The Search for the Duchess’s Husband

Dark-haired Artia looked at Humphrey and said.

 “My mother always said that she could bear the pain of her illness because I was by her side.” 

It wasn’t as if Artia had any special powers.

 

She simply had the wondrous strength of a daughter her mother loved.

 

So why not others?

 “I dyed my hair black on purpose,”

she says,

“so that my aunt would be comforted by the resemblance to her long-lost daughter.” 

It was a crazy, crazy story.

 

Fortunately, Humphrey wasn’t angry that someone would dare to imitate his dead daughter, but he wasn’t exactly pleased with Artia’s suggestion.

 

As Humphrey looked on in confusion, Artia continued.

 “If my aunt does not like what she sees in me, I will apologize immediately and leave the manor, but if she likes me at all, please accept my offer.” 

Humphrey’s eyes flickered wildly.

 

Artia was too much like Julia for him to

dismiss her as nonsense.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Humphrey opened the door.

 

In a darkened room with drawn curtains lay a thin woman.

 

It was Helen, his wife, the Count’s hostess.

 

Twenty years ago, with the death of their daughter, she had given up all her duties.

 

Humphrey raised an eyebrow at the vial on the table.

 “Not taking your medication again.” 

Helen opened her eyes in embarrassment.

 

Her lips were as dry as fallen leaves and her voice sounded colder than winter.

 “Darling, don’t give me any more medicine. And don’t call the doctor, it’s all useless.” “Helen!” “Life has been nothing but hell for me since I lost Julie… I just want to go now… I want to go to the other side and see my daughter’s face…” 

With these sad words, Helen closed her eyes again.

 

When she fell asleep, she could see her daughter in her dreams.

 

She looked like a dead person.

 

Humphrey looked at his wife with a torn heart, then spoke with determination.

 “Helen, there’s someone I want you to meet.” “…….” 

He looked at Helen who didn’t move.

 “Come in.” 

The old door, rarely opened except for her husband’s entrance and exit, swung open and she heard footsteps, but Helen didn’t open her closed eyes.

 

The doctor? The apothecary? The witch doctor? The old friend?

 

She didn’t want to see anyone.

 

Humphrey nudged his motionless wife.

 “Take a look.” “…….” 

Humphrey was a loving husband, but he could be stubborn, especially when it came to curing Helen’s illness.

 

Eager to get back to sleep as soon as possible, Helen slowly opened her eyes.

 

A dark-haired Artia stood before her with a sunny smile.

 “……!” 

Suddenly, Helen’s dull, dead eyes came alive.

 

Humphrey felt hopeful at the sight and was about to int

roduce her to Artia when Helen jumped out of bed and hugged her.

 “Julie!” “……!” 

Humphrey and Artia’s eyes widened at the same time.

 

Helen sobbed as if her daughter had returned from the other side.

 “Julie, my darling daughter. I missed you, Mommy missed you so, so much…” 

The voice was so tender that Artia couldn’t say no, and she meekly hugged Helen.

 

* * *

 

 

Helen hugged Artia and cried for a long time, then broke down.

 

She didn’t let go of Artia’s hand even when she lost it.

 

‘I can’t take my hand off…’

 

In the end, Artia stayed by Helen’s side the whole time she was being examined.

 

As Artia sat on the side of the bed with Helen holding her hand, Humphrey looked at her in confusion.

 “Helen thinks you’re really Julie.” 

Artia was equally confused.

 

She had hoped that Helen would feel a kinship with her because of her resemblance to Juliet.

 

She had never imagined that Helen would mistake her for her daughter.

 “How is that possible?” 

She dyed her hair black, but they didn’t look exactly like twins.

 

Her eyes were different colors.

 

Worst of all, Julie was dead.

 

John, Helen’s doctor, interrupted.

 “Let me explain. It seems that the shock of seeing someone who looks like Lady Juliet has caused her to go into delirium.” “Delirium?” “Yes. It’s when a person loses their sense of reality in certain areas and distorts their perceptions to suit their own desires.” “Such as…!” 

Humphrey’s face paled. John spoke up quickly.

 “You shouldn’t worry too much about it. It usually goes away after a while when the mind calms down.” 

But John’s words did nothing to soften Humphrey’s stony expression.

 

Artia bit her lip.

 “She’s already delirious at the sight of me, and now she has collapsed.” 

Humphrey’s voice came to Artia, who bowed her head, ready to take any anger in stride.

 “Artia, will you continue to pretend to be Julia?” “What?!” 

Artia’s head snapped up at the unexpected words.

 

Humphrey’s voice rose.

 “I’m not asking you to pretend to be Juliet forever. I want you to stay at Helen’s side as Juliet, if only for a little while.” 

The look in Helen’s eyes when she saw Artia.

 

They shone with the same warmth as when her daughter was alive, and she longed to see her again.

 “But…” 

Humphrey’s voice was pleading as he looked at Artia’s hesitant face.

 “If you do me a favor, I’ll give you two billion gold or whatever you want.” 

The tables had turned from a few hours before.

 

But Artia couldn’t bring herself to nod.

 “No matter how delusional she is, if she stays with me, she’ll realize that I’m not her daughter, and that will shock her even more.” 

John, who had been listening, interrupted.

 “That is fair enough. But lately she has refused to eat or take any medicine, and she is in a very serious condition. If you can find the strength to devote yourself to her care, even for a few days, we may be able to improve her condition, at least to the point where her life is no longer in danger.” 

Humphrey nodded.

 “Yes, that’s none of your business, just pretend to be Juliet and when Helen comes to her senses, even tomorrow, you’ll get the money your promised and leave the manor.” 

Humphrey’s eyes were desperate and intense.

 

It was hard to believe that this was the same depressed man who had greeted Artia.

 

Artia looked confused.

 “This wasn’t my plan…” 

She had intended to take advantage of Mrs. Blührens’s affection for her daughter, but she had no intention of becoming her real daughter.

 

“Julie.”

 

She remembered the warmth she’d felt when Helen had embraced her.

 

“My sweet girl, I missed you.”

 

Her voice was full of longing.

 

His heart was heavy at the thought of deceiving such a woman. The fear of hurting this poor woman even more washed over her.

 

‘…But if I do this, I can get the money.’

 

Lake Annecy, filled with memories of her mother, could not be taken away from her by the snake-like Shylock.

 

Most of all, the image of the skeletal woman calling her daughter’s name so desperately reminded her of her own mother.

 

Finally, Artia made a decision.

 “I don’t know how many days it will be, but I will stay by her side.” 

Artia nodded, hoping it would bring her some comfort.

 

 

* * *

 

 

The next day, Helen woke up and as soon as she saw Artia, she jumped up and hugged her.

 “Julie!” 

Artia remembered Humphrey’s words.

 “Juliette was so stupid that even as an adult she called her mommy like a child.” 

Mommy.

 

It felt strange and awkward, like a title she’d been called so long ago.

 

But if she was going to imitate Juliette, she had to do it as well as she could, so she carefully parted her lips.

 “Mom.” 

Helen smiled.

 “Yes, my daughter.” 

How warm and loving those eyes were.

 

Artia felt a pang in her heart.

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