Rantuane, after meeting Depelto several times, couldn’t shake off a strange feeling.
‘Does he love his daughter… or hate her?’
Whenever Seila was mentioned, Depelto became emotional.
Sometimes he frowned, speaking as though he wasn’t particularly fond of her.
‘But for someone who claims that, he seems to miss her quite a lot.’
Perhaps his loneliness stemmed from this.
‘Or maybe… his longing for his late wife is simply too great.’
She wanted to comfort him, to soothe him gently.
As weeks passed, Rantuane came to understand Depelto’s heart a little more.
‘He’s someone who tried to hate Seila.’
It was as if loving Seila meant betraying his dead wife.
Though she couldn’t be certain, he seemed to carry a warped sense of guilt.
“Seila will soon return to the family,” she said softly. “When that happens, it would be good to have a deep, serious conversation with her. Conversations are necessary between people. Just like the one we’re having now.”
Rantuane held Depelto’s hand, looking up at the rising moon with him.
And then, a few days later, she returned with a contract.
She had seen the gaping hole in Depelto’s heart, and she came to believe it was her mission to fill it.
“This is a marriage contract. Let’s get married. Until the day you no longer hurt, I’ll stay by your side.”
Looking at her gentle face, I couldn’t help but worry. What on earth was I supposed to do about this?
Then it struck me.
Ordinarily, people didn’t draw up contracts for marriage.
It wasn’t unheard of, but it wasn’t common either.
‘But if it’s Rantuane, of course she would draft one.’
That was her pattern.
She would appear like sunlight before some “pitiful” person—though what exactly was pitiful about Depelto, I had no idea—begin a romance, then proceed to a contractual marriage.
“Only I can save this man.”
That was the delusion she lived under.
Rantuane let out a light, airy laugh.
“Do you really need to confirm that? I’m going to be your mother, after all.”
“Yes. I must confirm it. Because I don’t want to watch someone who isn’t my mother impersonate her.”
I was already in a foul mood, and her constant use of the word “mother” only made it worse.
That word was my trigger.
To me, “mother” was the one who abandoned us, only to come crawling back after That Woman, That Game hit it big, demanding pocket money.
“If you insist, I can show you the contract.”
“Did you use the standard imperial marriage contract? The official one?”
Naturally, she must have.
There wouldn’t be any predatory clauses like ‘All family property will now be mine!’
Her desire to “save” Depelto was real, after all.
“That’s right. I know what you’re worried about, but you don’t have to be. As you say, it’s the standard imperial contract.”
“Annul it.”
“My dear, your father needs me.”
Her lips pressed together, her gaze firm on me.
Even if I disliked her, it was clear she was determined to go through with this marriage.
“Lady Rantuane—no, Baroness Mirva… or should I say, Baroness Monmarcel? What should I call you?”
“……”
Rantuane froze, visibly shaken.
For the record, the imperial standard marriage contract doesn’t include remarriage history.
“Does Lord Depelto know that Lady Rantuane has already been married twice before?”
A contract didn’t need to list prior marriages, but if one was concealed, the contract became void.
“I was going to tell him. I was only afraid that Sir Depelto would reject me if I said it too soon. But I swear, I intended to confess before the wedding. Truly, believe me, Sir Depelto!”
Flustered, Rantuane’s face turned red as her eyes welled with tears.
“Having been married twice before isn’t wrong, is it?”
“Of course not. I don’t consider that a flaw. If you really love someone, the past doesn’t matter.”
But this was different.
“However, Baron Mirva and Baron Monmarcel—both of them died of the same cause. Sudden heart failure, wasn’t it?”
“That was just an accident, Seila. The imperial investigation bureau already closed the case, and several papers covered it thoroughly. I suffered greatly because of it. Please don’t insult me with baseless rumors.”
Rantuane, the so-called “benevolent villainess,” always loved people with holes in their hearts.
But once those holes were filled?
Her burning passion quickly turned into betrayal and hatred.
“You’ve changed. It seems you don’t need me anymore.”
A “benevolent villainess”? More like a lunatic.
“It’s time to complete your salvation. I love you.”
For her, “salvation” meant eternal rest.
Baron Mirva and Baron Monmarcel had been murdered by Rantuane.
By then, Depelto’s brows furrowed.
“Seila. Why are you so hostile toward the woman who would be your stepmother?”
“Because…”
I hesitated.
Could it be Depelto was truly head over heels for her?
If so, reason and logic wouldn’t matter.
But then Depelto spoke again.
“Do you feel like I’m being stolen away from you? Are you really that childish?”
…What kind of ridiculous nonsense was that?
Why did he sound proud about it?
I didn’t even want to respond to that absurdity.
I continued instead.
“Do you know, my lord, that all the estates of the Mirva and Monmarcel families ultimately ended up in Lady Rantuane’s possession?”
Rantuane quickly defended herself.
“As I said, those are nothing but sensational rumors spread in the papers. Most of those estates were donated back to society. Seila, you’re gravely defaming my honor with these baseless accusations—right in front of your father, no less.”
“……”
“Apologize. I’ll forgive you just this once.”
I smiled faintly at her.
“You say I have no proof?”
“Yes. The imperial investigators already cleared my name.”
“Do you know someone named Galf, Lady Rantuane?”
Her once-confident face suddenly turned ashen.
“He’s the young noble I once dueled with. The heir of the First Vassal House of Queibek, the Berrec family.”
Incidentally, Rantuane had a daughter who came of age just last year.
Officially, she was an orphan. In truth, she was Rantuane’s biological child.
And that daughter had secretly promised marriage to Galf.
How could a commoner promise marriage to the Berrec heir? By offering an enormous dowry of 10 billion won.
And that money had come directly from Rantuane.
Her talk of “donating to society” was a lie.
True, the official inheritance had been donated.
But like most noble families, both Mirva and Monmarcel had vast hidden wealth, and Rantuane had siphoned every bit of it to support her daughter.
‘Wow, I can’t believe I still remember all these details.’
I hadn’t known all this from the start.
‘Never thought I’d actually benefit from Lee Juhwan’s nagging.’
Since I wasn’t directly involved in Rantuane’s subplots, my knowledge had been limited.
But once, the team lead had told me:
‘Do a thorough report on all of Rantuane’s stories. The boss wants it.’
I thought it was pointless busywork, just another way for Juhwan to mess with me.
Well, maybe it was partly that. But it also broadened my perspective.
In the end, Rantuane’s content became one of the key factors in That Woman, That Game’s success.
‘Her stories always turned into messy soap operas.’
That resonated with a particular demographic—the kind that loved morning dramas.
Thanks to that, the game gained the reputation of being “a game mothers and daughters can enjoy together,” which translated directly into sales.
Something I’d never considered.
‘There really is more than just selling the main characters.’
Through all this, I had nearly memorized every detail of Rantuane’s lore.
I guess studying while cursing makes it stick better.
“She promised marriage to a young noble, offering a dowry of 10 billion.”
“……”
My eyes narrowed.
Surely this was the moment she’d surrender.
Because Rantuane loved her daughter more than life itself.
“Will you dismiss this as another baseless rumor? If you step down quietly, I won’t bring it up again.”
She remained silent for a long while before finally speaking.
“Give me three days to think.”
Wow.
Did she really just drop that cliché line here?
That was practically a murder notice.
