The Search for the Duchess’s Husband

“……!” 

Only then did Artia realize why Catherine had done this crazy thing.

 

It wasn’t just that she had gone crazy with gambling.

 

She wanted her to marry Simone.

 

Even if it’s the last thing she wants.

 

The pink eyes that had shone so brightly a moment ago were now clouded.

 

Catherine’s heart sank at the sight of them.

 

Artia spoke, her voice dry and devoid of any warmth.

 “I have no intention of giving Lake Annecy to anyone, let alone marrying Simone, so you’d better figure out a way to pay me back in time.” “…….” “Before I start hating you with all my heart.” “……!” 

With these words, Artia left the room.

 

Standing as still as if she had been hit over the head with a hammer, Catherine remembered the day she first met Artia, long ago.

 

The young Artia had been red-faced and staring at the floor. Her hands were fidgeting with the hem of her skirt.

Catherine’s eyes widened at the sight.

She’s not a wicked stepmother from a fairy tale.

As she raised her eyebrows, a small voice called out to her.

“Oh, hello, Mother.”

Artia had been calling her mother ever since.

So, she had no idea.

How loving it was to call her mother.

 “Before I began to hate you with all my heart.” 

It wasn’t until Artia called her that that she realized.

 

That the tenuous bond of family had been completely severed.

 “What have I done…!” 

A wave of remorse

 washed over her, but the damage was done.

  

* * *

 

 

In Artia’s hand was a loan note from Catherine.

 

1.5 billion gold.

 

The interest rate was 200% for three months. With interest, she would need three billion gold.

 

The most disturbing clause was the last one.

 

“If the principal and interest are not repaid by the due date, the name of Lake Annecy will be forfeited to Shylock von Rushan.”

 

Artia frowned.

 “It’s a bad contract any way you look at it.” “Perhaps we should ask the court to annul the treaty itself?” 

But the Empire had no laws against excessive interest in moneylending.

 

Shylock hadn’t forced Catherine to lend him the money, so there was no legal recourse.

 “There’s only one way out: pay the debt on time.” 

Edenberg was a duke, albeit a lesser one than before. He had the wealth to pay off the three billion gold.

 

There was only one problem.

 

He didn’t have the money to pay Artia right away.

 “To get that much money, we’d have to sell the family lands.” 

This led to a second problem.

 

After Artia’s divorce, the power to buy and sell the family’s assets had passed to the family elders.

 

This meant that she would need the elders’ cooperation to resolve the situation.

 “What kind of law is this, that I have to ask their permission to spend my own money?” 

The fire was burning inside her, but she had to put it out now.

 

Artia wrote a letter to the elders.

 

 

My mother has gambled herself into great debt.

Please agree to the sale of the estate, for the sake of Edenberg’s honor, she must pay it off as soon as possible. 

 

 

She wrote straightforwardly, not sugarcoating or hiding the situation, and sent the letter by the manor’s best-horsed servant.

 

It was a matter of urgency.

 

It took several days for a reply to arrive.

 

Artia quickly read the letters from the three elders.

 

Each letter was slightly different, but all had the same message.

 

 

There is no place for you at home, only women, and all sorts of shameful things are happening.

I am ashamed of myself and cannot bear it.

(followed by a long list of accusations)

…It is unacceptable to use the wealth of the Dukes of Edenberg, which has been safeguarded for so many generations, to pay for such foolishness.

Let your mother and you sort this out. 

 

 

The youngest uncle, who was particularly condescending, even added a sarcastic remark.

 

 

It’s not a serious matter, is it?

As long as you hand over the useless land or marry Simone von Rushan, that’s all that matters.

 

 

Artia did not mention in her letter that Lake Annecy had been mortgaged, or that Baron Rushan had offered her hand in marriage.

 

It wouldn’t have helped.

 

But the elders knew all about it.

 “Could it be that the Elders have been touched by Shylock?” 

If so, they would never cooperate with Artia.

 

It wouldn’t matter who they gave it to, even if it was a small piece of land that their niece didn’t really care about.

 

And if Artia couldn’t give up the land, Shylock would make her a deal that would make her happy to marry Simone.

 

Artia’s pink eyes grew cold.

 

‘If I can intimidate the Elders into agreeing…’

 

But then she shook her head.

 

There were about two months until the redemption date, not enough time for that.

 

 

* * *

 

 

The Rushans weren’t the only family in the empire who practiced finance. Artia went to another nobleman.

 “Please lend me money. I will repay you on time.” 

But…

 “I apologize, my lady. I respect and trust the name of the Duke of Edenberg, but I cannot lend you such a large sum of money without clear collateral.” 

Here, there, and everywhere the same thing was said.

 

Finally, one of the men said with a pitiful look on his face.

 “You’re in trouble, of course I want to help you, I’ll lend you the money.” “……!” 

The man smiled, twitching his white mustache at Artia, whose eyes lit up.

 “That is, if you will be my wife.” 

Artia barely resisted throwing the tea on the table in the man’s face.

 

As she walked away, the man yelled behind her back.

 “You won’t find anyone in this realm who will lend you money so easily, and if you do, you’ll find yourself playing with the elders of the Dukes of Edenberg and Baron Rushan!” 

Only then did Artia realize that Shylock and the Elders were carefully maneuvering to sabotage her.

 

Artia bit her lip.

 “If I can’t borrow money, I’ll make it.” 

She needed the Elders’ approval to sell real estate or businesses, but not the manor.

 

She scoured the mansion for anything that might be worth money.

 

The paintings on the walls, the ornaments scattered throughout, the clothes and jewelry in the rooms, even the carriages and horses.

 

Artia then summoned the owner of the thrift store she had visited with Catherine to the mansion. After carefully examining the mountain of stuff, the owner said with a smile.

 “If you donate all this stuff, I can give you one billion gold as a token of my gratitude.” 

Artia raised an eyebrow.

 “Barely?” 

The boss spoke as if he knew what Artia was thinking.

 “They’re all nice things, but they’re old and worn, and things that go out of style are less valuable, and on top of that, the payment date you want is too short – there aren’t many places that can pay that much in cash, right away.” 

Artia wiped her forehead.

 “I’ll think about it and get back to you.” “Of course.” 

The boss gave her a crisp bow, not seeming to regret anything, and disappeared.

 

Alone in the empty room, Artia stared at the piles and muttered to herself.

 “What’s the use of being born a nobleman…” 

Her father was never affectionate, and her mother died too soon. Her first love was trashy, and she was ignored by her husband’s aunt and maids.

 

She thought the divorce would make things easier, but this time her stepmother had an accident, and she was faced with debt and marriage threats.

 

In the meantime, her relatives are hindering her instead of helping her.

 

Suddenly, she felt a surge of anger.

 “Ugh!” 

Artia grabbed a fluffy pillow and thumped it on the bed.

 

“

How am I going to get the other two billion gold!” 

Her arms were still thin and frail from constant exercise, but the power of her anger was great.

 

The end of the pillow burst open under the force of the blow, spilling out the white cotton.

 

There was a knock on the door and Vivi’s voice came through.

 “Master, you have a visitor.” 

Artia stopped moving and drew her eyebrows together.

 

Every visitor to the manor so far, including suitors, had made things difficult for her, and today she would not let anyone get away with anything.

 

Artia tightened her grip on the pillow.

 

But she dropped it at the sound of Vivi’s voice.

 “It’s Prince Killian.” Visit my Ko-fi for advance chapter discounts!!