The Search for the Duchess’s Husband

A picturesque blue summer day with white puffy clouds. A party was held on an even greener beach.

 

A woman, buried in a sea of affectionate fathers, healthy mothers, and playful friends, smiled brightly.

 “Happy birthday!” 

People congratulated her warmly.

 

After enjoying the party, the woman walked along the beach.

 

The cool breeze blew in her hair, and the fine sand and lapping sea tickled her feet.

 

As she hummed happily, her eyes widened.

 

A wave bigger than a giant crashed in from the other side. The woman’s pale face was ruined, but the wave was faster.

 Bam! 

A giant wave crashed over her.

 

She couldn’t utter a single cry and was swept away by the wave. 

 

‘No, I don’t want to die,’

she thought as she struggled in the cold water.

 

‘There are so many things I want to do… Someone, anyone, please save me!’

 

At the same time as she screamed, seawater filled her mouth.

 

After a while, the woman opened her eyes.

 “I thought… was dead?” 

As she muttered this, a wave of memories washed over her.

 

Artia von Edenberg.

 

An ailing mother, lying in bed, smiling faintly.

 

Her father, angrily wielding a broomstick. 

 

The grand wedding with Lloyd.

 

Her father’s sad funeral.

 

The marriage from hell…

 

The words that came out after she remembered everything.

“Lloyd, you son of a bitch.” 

No, those words were meant for the lovable, valiant and brave dogs of the earth.

 

‘Lloyd, you son of a bitch, you could feed me all the shit of cows and horses in the world and I wouldn’t be cool.’

I thought, correcting my swear words with some satisfaction.

 

She didn’t know how it had happened, but one thing was certain: she had become Artia.

 

Strangely, this absurd reality felt natural.

 “Maybe it’s because I almost died and came back to life…”

Artia muttered to herself and picked up the mirror on her bedside table.

 

The moment she caught sight of her reflection, a cry of pure amazement escaped her.

 “Wow…” 

Artia had always thought she was ugly, having been ignored by people.

 

Wealthy. Wavy silver hair and blood as white as snow.

 “It’s a ridiculous illusion, Artia.” 

Pink eyes like strawberry syrup mixed with white milk.

 

She wasn’t a classic beauty, with sharp features, but she had a clear, harmlessly pretty face that asserted,

“I’m good.”

 

She liked her eyes the most.

 “I’ve been teased that they’re a cloudy pink, not the red that runs in the Dukes of Edenberg for generations, that I’m the wrong half of the family.” 

But in her eyes, she was just as pretty as a spring flower.

 “With a face like this, coming back from the dead isn’t so bad.” 

She laughed softly, her eyes darting up and down her face.

 “But if I’m in this body, where did the real Artia go?” 

The last image of Artia flashed through her mind.

 

Sinking into the depths of the lake, screaming that she hated herself, that she wanted to disappear from this world.

 “Did I become me in another world? I hope not…” 

‘Is it because my memories are intact? Or because I became Artia.’

 

Rather than the embarrassment of becoming someone else, she felt a twin-sisterly affinity for Artia.

 

At the same time, she felt sorry for her, that she had to go through such a painful time alone.

 

It was then.

 *Growl* 

An embarrassed cow rumbled in her stomach, interrupting her serious thoughts.

 

She looked down and realized how hungry she was.

 “Let’s eat first.” 

She tugged hard on her groin.

 

But no matter how long she waited, the maid never showed up.

 

Artia wasn’t surprised, as this happened to her all the time, but she was annoyed.

 “She’s the mistress of the manor, after all, and she doesn’t deserve to be treated so poorly.” 

She was about to tug on the string again when the door swung open with a bang and a woman appeared.

 

Her eyes are as big as a puppy’s.

 

A royal ribbon in her thick, wavy, mauve hair.

 

Despite her cute face, the woman had a mature body and lunged at Artia.

 “You’re awake, sis!” 

Lyrica.

 

The baby bird…  No, it was Lloyd’s mistress.

 

***

 

A year ago, Lloyd had brought her to the mansion.

 “I’ve found a girl I love with all my heart, and I’m going to keep her by my side for the rest of my life.”

Lloyd, with Lyrica in his arms, said in a sweet voice.

 “Hello, I’m Lyrica, and since I’m with the Duke, you can call me sister, okay?” 

Although it was normal for a nobleman to have a lover or two, it was rare for him to bring them into his home.

 

It was disrespectful to their spouses.

 

How could a commoner speak to a noblewoman?

 

It was absurd.

 

But Lloyd spoke without a glance at Artia.

 “Call her what you will, baby bird, sister or brother.” 

Lyrica giggled.

“What do you mean, big brother? He’s not some thug who lives in the back alleys.” 

Artia couldn’t say anything to either of them, only fidgeted with her hands clutching the hem of her skirt.

 

Thus began the cohabitation of one man and two women.

 

Lloyd’s affection for Lyrica was unabashed throughout the mansion.

 “My darling Lyrica, my baby bird.” 

Every time she saw her, Artia’s heart felt like it was being torn apart.

 

But she didn’t dare show her feelings.

 

For fear of making Lloyd hate her even more.

 

All she could do was bite her lip and turn away from the two of them.

 

Behind her, she heard Lyrica’s voice.

 “Where are you going, sis, come play with me!” “What are you talking about, you cheating bitch?” *** 

Artia glared at Lyrica, her anger rising even now.

 

Either Lyrics didn’t notice, or she didn’t care (though the latter was likely). 

 

Lyrica hugged Artia tighter.

 “You have no idea how worried I was  when you wouldn’t open your eyes.” 

Lloyd buried himself in Lyrica’s arms on that fictional day.

 

She was as dry and soft as a hot water bag in winter.

 

But unlike a nice hot water bag that warms you up, this one made Artia’s heart grow as cold as a winter’s day.

 

Artia’s eyebrows furrowed and the tip of her nose twitched as she considered Lyrica an enemy.

 “Can you move away from me, because if you don’t, I’m going to pass out again from the smell of your cheap cologne.” 

It’s humiliating to be told that anyone smells bad.

 

Even if it’s because of an intentionally heavy dose of perfume.

 

Lyrica took a step back, her face bright red.

 

Artia lowered the hand holding the bridge of her nose and let out a snort, as if she could finally breathe.

 

Then, as if in retrospect, Lyrica said,

“That was a harsh thing to say to someone who ran to you because she was worried about you.” “I’m sorry, so I’ll forgive you specifically this one time. For all the rude things you’ve done to me today.”

Artia said in a gentle tone, like a teacher correcting a child who is not quite up to par.

 “What, rude behavior?”

Lyrica said, shocked.

 “One, you barged into my room without permission. Two, you didn’t greet me with a polite hello, but instead called me by the disrespectful title of sister. Three, you touched my body without permission.”  

Artia continued, her pink eyes full of Lyrica,

“For a commoner to behave this way toward the Duchess of Edenberg is an offense that deserves to be flogged and thrown out of the manor.”Visit my Ko-fi for advance chapter discounts!!