The Search for the Duchess’s Husband

Artia looked at the nightstand.

 “If I hit the corner of the nightstand with my face, it will hurt a lot, won’t it?” 

Artia said, looking surprised (though it was hard to tell by the change in her expression).

 “And if I break any bones, my face could be disfigured forever.” “If I throw a rock in the air and catch it with my face… If I do it wrong and it hits me in the eye, I could lose my sight.” “Maybe we should wake Lloyd up and have him hit one, he’s good at that.” 

After listening to the string of ridiculous comments, Vivi said,

“I’ll do it.” 

Vivi was an expert.

 

At least she could do it much safer than the methods Artia had suggested.

 

But Artia couldn’t bring herself to nod in agreement.

 “Can you…?” “Yes.” 

Vivi took a deep

breath and looked at Artia.

 “I’ll try to make it as painless as possible.” “Okay, then, please.” 

Artia nodded and closed her eyes.

 

Vivi looked at Artia with a pained expression, then slapped her cheek.

 Pak-! 

The pain was much worse than when she had been slapped by Lyrica or Lloyd.

 

It was as if her cheek had been torn from her body.

 

But Artia didn’t show the slightest sign of pain.

 

Vivi looked like she was going to cry.

 

It was the first time she had ever seen such a look on her normally calm face.

 

Artia smiled as she took Vivi’s trembling hand in hers.

 “It doesn’t hurt at all. Thank you, Vivi.” 

Vivi smiled at Artia, one cheek red and swollen, and a single tear escaped her eye.

 

Knowing that Vivi’s presence here would complicate things, Artia urged her to stay at the hotel outside the mansion and gave her the jewelry.

 

But Vivi pleaded.

 “I want to be near my master.” 

Finally, Vivi returned to her secret chamber.

 

Afterwards, Artia sent a letter to the Imperial Court informing them of Lloyd’s attack.

 

Normally, the Imperial family did not interfere in such petty domestic matters.

 

Nevertheless, the letter was sent to provide indirect evidence that Artia had been molested and assaulted.

 

But then a surprising thing happened.

 

Within hours of sending the letter, a knight from the imperial court arrived.

 

‘What the hell is going on? Is there anyone in the royal family who feels sorry for me?’

 

The story of Artia and Lloyd is making the rounds these days, so it’s not out of the question.

 

Whoever it was, it was a great help to Artia.

 “We will protect Duchess Artia.” 

The Knights of Gold stood outside Artia’s door, their eyes narrowed.

 

Lloyd, intimidated by their angry aura, hadn’t dared to approach Artia.

 

Artia’s long-awaited freedom was a peaceful one.

 

She ate in the dining room, walked in the garden, and read in her room.

 

After several days of this, the day finally arrived.

 

The day the emperor would decide on the divorce of the Duke and Duchess of Edenberg.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Kilian, standing cross-legged in a darkened room with the curtains drawn, spoke.

 “Today…” 

Nocturne, who was setting the teacups, cocked his head.

 “What do you mean?” “Today is the day Artia von Edenberg gets a divorce.” 

Nocturne was surprised.

 

Every nobleman seemed to be talking about the Duke and Duchess of Edenberg’s divorce these days, but Killian remembered such a thing.

 

For someone who can’t even remember his own birthday…

 

Anyway, he’s been acting weird lately.

 “It’s still unclear whether they’ll divorce or not, because while many people have come out in favor of the Duke and Duchess of Edenberg’s divorce, there are still many who say it’s not proper for a married couple to separate.” 

Nocturne said, trying not to look at Killian sternly.

 

In the end, it was the Emperor’s decision that mattered.

 

There was no one in the Empire who knew what the Emperor’s mind was like when he was confined to the palace due to illness.

 “What is it?” 

Nocturne’s shoulders hunched in fear.

 

He could feel Killian watching him with uncanny eyes.

 

No matter how much he thought about it, he couldn’t figure out why he was angry.

 

Instead of answering, Killian pushed himself to his feet.

 

The loose robe revealed a muscular body.

 

Unlike his beautiful, goddess-like face, his battle-hardened body was more than muscular, it was animalistic.

 “I’m scared…” 

Killian said to Nocturne, who swallowed hard, instinctively feeling threatened.

 “Prepare to conquer.” “……?!” 

After living on the battlefield for so long, Killian hated being stuffy.

 

On days when he didn’t have a particular agenda, he’d wear just a shirt with the collar unbuttoned, or, like today, he’d walk around half-naked in his robe.

 “Is there an event I don’t know about?” 

Nocturne wondered, but didn’t say it out loud.

 

When Killian gave an order, it was the first-rate skill of a servant of the Mad King to follow it without question.

 “I will be ready.” 

After Nocturne disappeared, Killian ran a hand through his hair.

 

His golden eyes glinted in the darkness.

 

Like a cat about to receive the gift for which it had waited.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Artia stood in front of the mirror.

 “A lady’s make-up should be colorful and beautiful.” 

But not today.

 

Today’s Artia von Edenberg had to look as pitiful as possible.

 

Fortunately, that wasn’t too difficult.

 

Her collarbone stuck out under her plain black dres

s, and her arms were as thin as dry twigs.

 

It was the effect of a few days of fasting.

 “I’m already thin, but if I lose any more weight, I’ll collapse.” 

It didn’t end there.

 

Her face still bore the marks of Lloyd’s slap (actually, Vivi’s slap) a few days earlier.

 

Artia muttered to herself as she patted the creeping bruise.

 “It’s worth it to pretend I’m applying a healing potion to a scar.” 

The effect was obvious.

 

Every time the Golden Knight looked at Artia’s face, his eyes were fierce and he shouted,

“Lloyd’s killer”.

 “The Emperor ought to do the same…” 

She did everything she could to make sure that if the emperor granted the divorce, there wouldn’t be much of a backlash from the nobility.

 

She even sent the emperor a long list of reasons why Artia should divorce Lloyd.

 

Still, she could not rest easily.

 

The emperor had never granted a divorce in his 29-year reign.

 “Please let me be divorced today.” 

Artia prayed to the goddess in a desperate voice and left the room.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Lloyd’s offer to ride in the carriage with her was flatly rejected.

 “No.” “Artia…” 

Lloyd was forced to back away as the golden knights escorting Artia glared at him.

 

Eventually, the two rode to the palace in separate carriages.

 

The servant led them into the great chapel.

 

The white marble building was used for worship, weddings of royalty and high nobility, and other imperial events.

 

As Artia entered the building in her black dress, she thought back to three years ago.

  

She stood there in a pure white dress.

 

She hadn’t eaten in over a month, and she hadn’t had the energy to make her waist any smaller.

 

The dress, studded with thousands of jewels, was too heavy, and her feet, trapped in pointed shoes, hurt with every step.

 

Worst of all, she had to stand in front of so many people.

 

It was a moment worse than hell for Artia, who was afraid of people’s eyes.

 

But she was happy.

 

She had Lloyd by her side.

 

She was truly happy to be married to the man she loved.

  

But contrary to her expectations, Artia’s marriage was lonely, sad, hateful, and unhappy.

 

It lasted three years.

 “That’s enough, Artia,”

she said,

“let’s get rid of this stupid first love. 

Unlike three years ago, there were no guests here today. In the silence, Artia looked up.

 

On the podium sat an old man with gray hair.

 

It was Gregory von Orpheus, Emperor of the Empire.

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