The Search for the Duchess’s Husband

People gossiped behind Artia’s back about her lightly pigmented skin.

 “What kind of a duchess looks so pale. With a face like that, she could be so angry she wouldn’t scare an ant.” 

Wrong.

 

Being majestic is not what you see, but what you feel.

 

A moment later, Lyrica slapped the back of her head, her face contorted.

 

Artia smirked.

“For a baby bird, you do have a good instinct for danger.” 

Artia’s eyes twinkled softly.

 “But I can’t let you go so easily. I’ll allow you to leave the room. But this time, I want you to leave with some decorum.” 

*** 

 *Sigh* 

In the end, Lyrica was allowed to leave the room only after bowing at the waist.

 

Artia remembered the look on Lyrica’s face just before she left the room.

 “She looked like she’d just been slapped by a weed.” 

It was understandable.

 

Artia had never said a bad word to anyone, not even to the commoner mistress who had sided with her husband.

 “You can’t do that, Artia. There’s a difference between a hogwash and a Good Samaritan.” 

Rage is the difference.

 

When you have to be mad, you have to be mad.

 

Properly and firmly.

 

Artia pulled at the rope again, and instead of calling for a maid, she pushed herself up.

 

She was a little dizzy from lying down for so long, but not so much that she couldn’t walk.

 

The maids called to her as she walked down the hall.

 “Why has the lady left her room? Since you came to this manor, Lady Artia, you’ve been ill and you’ve always stayed in your room.” “She fell into the lake and was unconscious for days.” “Maybe she still hasn’t gotten over it.” “You better stay out of this. She usually doesn’t even look up, just stares at the ground.” 

The voices were muffled, but Artia could hear them clearly, thanks to her much brighter ears than the others.

 

A blunt voice cut through the mocking comments.

 “Stop it, everyone, this is not for the honored guest.” 

Artia turned her head to the source of the voice.

 

A tall maid with a long scar across her cheek stood among the petite maids.

 

The other maids frowned at her.

 “Just between you and me. Do you have to be so nice to make us feel better?” “I’m not pretending to be nice, I’m just telling you how to behave as a maid.” “You are—!” 

The maids’ accusatory voices grew louder, but the maid with the scar on her cheek continued her silent scolding.

 

Artia glared at her, raised the corner of her mouth, and turned away.

 

A moment later, having reached her destination, Artia opened the door.

 

***

 

In the room was a stern looking maid with her hair in a neat bun.

 

It was Elma, the maid.

 “What brings you all the way here?”

she asked angrily. 

 

Her tone was gruff, as if to say,

“Why are you bothering me when I’m relaxing?’

 

In the past, Artia would have run away in a huff, but now her eyes narrowed slightly.

 “I have something to tell you.” “Then you should have summoned me through the maid. What kind of noblewoman comes to a maid’s chamber?” “I tried, but no matter how hard I tugged at the rope, the maid would not come to my room. The headmaid must have trained her well.” 

Elma made the same face Lyrica had made earlier.

 

She looked as if she had just been slapped by a weed for standing still.

 “It’s too early for that look…” 

Artia cut to the chase.

“How long have you been working at Edenberg Manor?” “Since my master ascended to the dukedom, so it’s been three years.” “You must have saved a lot of money in three years.” 

‘What money? Is she trying to make a case for paying her a little more than other noble families? Some overgrown duchess who’d let her maids take care of everything?’

Elma thought.

 

Artia turned to Elma, who wrinkled her nose as if thinking of something rude.

 “I’m sure you would have been paid well for whatever you stole from the Edenberg estate, wouldn’t you?”  

Elma’s eyes widened.

 

She gave her a look that said,

“How-?!”

 

Elma was stunned.

 “How could I not know?” 

Lloyd didn’t care about Ansalim, and Artia couldn’t even make eye contact with the maid, let alone the headmaid.

 

Thanks to the Duke and Duchess, Elma was able to steal with ease. It was easy enough for Artia to see if she was paying attention.

 “If we do a proper investigation, we’ll find out how many crates of water you stole.” 

A maid working for a nobleman and profiting from his goods didn’t end with simple theft.

 

She was guilty of insulting the nobility, which was punished much more severely than a common crime.

 

The higher the rank of the family to which the maid belonged, the harsher the punishment.

 “You stole from the duke, so at least your wrists will be slashed. Add to that the crime of embezzling the Duke’s money by going through the books you kept, and you’re looking at a beheading.” 

Elma’s face hardened at the amusement in Artia’s voice.

 

Elma smiled awkwardly and stammered.

“Oh, how horrible of you to say such a thing. Isn’t Your Ladyship a compassionate woman, not to be offended by such trifles?” 

A compassionate one.

 

It was never a compliment the maids threw at Artia.

 

It meant,

“You’re a fool.”

 

Artia knew the truth.

 

Fearing the maids’ reactions, she kept her mouth shut, but what she really wanted to say was this.

 “If you say one more kind word to me, I’ll rip out your evil tongue and tie it with a ribbon.” 

Elma clamped her hand over her mouth as if her tongue was about to be ripped out.

 

The corner of Artia’s mouth twitched at the harsher reaction than she’d expected.

 “You’re afraid. That makes it easier to talk to you.” 

Artia hadn’t come all this way just to accuse Elma of a crime.

 

She had a purpose.

 

Artia spoke in a low voice.

 “Don’t worry, Elma. From now on, if you honor me as befits the Duchess of Edenberg, your tongue will be in its proper place, and so will your throat.” 

With a bang! Elma fell to her knees so hard she thought the floor would give way.

 

There was a reason why a woman foolish enough to get herself into trouble for a few dollars had become the Duke’s maid.

 

Elma had the ability to see at a glance who was in power and wag her tail.

 

Elma bowed her head and said.

 “I am sorry for my behavior, and I will serve you sincerely. Please have mercy on me.” 

Artia was not stupid enough to believe her.

 

She had no intention of showing mercy. But…

 

“If a dirty paddle has any use, I’ll use it.”

 

It was never too late to throw it away.

 

***

 

Threatening Elma paid off.

 

After that day, the attitude of the maids who served Artia changed dramatically.

 

At the tug of a string, the waiting maid entered the room in a flash.

 “You called for me, my lady.” “My mouth is bored, please bring me a snack.” “Yes.” 

The maid quickly brought the snack.

 

The clear glass was filled with thinly sliced carrot sticks.

 

She took one of the carrot sticks and put it in her mouth, and it crunched, and the unique aroma and taste of carrots filled her mouth.

 

Artia was moved to tears.

 “It’s delicious…” 

Surprisingly, the current Artia had a lot in common with the real Artia.

 

For starters, they both loved vegetables.

 

Especially carrots!

 

She can’t believe she had a colleague who was treated like a rare species for liking carrots…

 

They also shared the same hobbies and tastes.

 

The secret library in Artia’s room was lined with hundreds of books, each one a swoon-worthy love story.

 

Lying on her plush bed, Artia giggled and opened a book.

 

The title was

“The Hot Bedroom of the Northern Duke.”

 

It was about a Northern Duke, cold to everything in the world, who falls in love with his bride, who is sold to him, and becomes as hot as an active volcano.

 

Hot as an active volcano.

 

It was a cliché in this genre, but it made her heart race.

 

She thought,

“How happy would she be with a man like that?”

 

But reality was too cruel.

 

Damn, Lloyd became her husband.

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