~Chapter 6~
“Milady?”
They had reached their destination, but the lady gave no reply.
‘Hmm.’
Butler Glenn silently looked down at his young lady, who now stood frozen like a statue.
Her head was bowed so deeply he couldn’t see her expression. But leaning over to peek at her face would be a breach of etiquette.
Even so, one thing was clear—her feelings were a mess.
He didn’t need to see her face to notice her eyes trembling endlessly beneath her lowered lashes.
‘Milady…’
Glenn’s fist clenched tightly.
Though this was her estate, it must have felt completely unfamiliar to her.
The frail lady had barely visited the capital estate since early childhood, always staying away under the pretense of focusing on recovery.
And now, with the Count and Countess both gone, she must have felt truly alone.
It was remarkable she was even standing.
The fireplace’s warmth barely reached the hallway. Glenn could no longer leave her standing in the cold.
He gently called again.
“Milady?”
“Ah, yes! Sorry, I was lost in thought for a moment.”
“There’s no need to apologize.”
Glenn gestured toward a door.
“Do you recognize this place?”
In front of a door that clearly didn’t lead to an ordinary room, the lady tilted her head.
“Hmm… It seems familiar, but it’s been so long…”
“Yes, of course.”
With a brief reply, Glenn took out a key, slid it into the lock, and turned it.
Click. As the door opened, sunlight streamed in through the already drawn curtains.
At the same time, the lady’s eyes widened.
It was the shared office where the Earl and Countess McCurry had once worked together.
As realization dawned, the lady fell silent for a moment—then spoke again.
“May I call you by your name?”
“That is not a question you need to ask, Milady. You may call me whatever is most comfortable—Glenn or Butler.”
“Thanks. Then I’ll call you Glenn. Can I ask a favor?”
Perhaps she was going to ask for help with preparations for her engagement to the Duke’s family.
Anticipating that, Glenn had already made a reservation with the empire’s best dressmaker.
Feeling proud of his foresight, Glenn replied,
“I have already arranged for the best dressmaker in the capital—no, in the entire empire—”
“Can you instead bring me five years of financial ledgers, the land registry, and any other documents you believe the new head of this estate should see?”
Glenn’s mouth fell open.
‘Can I even show her that?’
This wasn’t a time to obey orders—it was a time to resist.
“The estate’s finances are something I know thoroughly. You don’t need to look yourself—just ask me—”
Bang!
A delicate hand slammed down on the desk.
The lady winced and curled her fingers into a soft fist.
“…Ahem! Have you forgotten who I am?”
“You are Lady Riden.”
“Then, as the master of House McCurry, bring me the ledgers.”
Sigh… This isn’t good.
So firm.
There was no way Glenn could win this.
With a heavy heart, Glenn turned toward the safe.
From now on, she was no longer Dain—she was Riden.
She had decided to live as Riden, and the sooner she addressed herself that way, the easier it would become.
Soon, towering stacks of documents piled up on her desk.
“Thanks, Glenn.”
She gave a brief nod and prepared to dive in when—
“Um… Milady.”
Glenn looked down at her with an uneasy expression.
Guessing what he wanted to say, Riden was about to sharply cut him off with a “Don’t bother.”
“The estate… is in serious financial trouble.”
“Financial trouble?”
Riden couldn’t believe it.
“…But the mansion is so grand.”
“It was built during the family’s golden age…”
“And the many servants all seemed cheerful and well?”
“I’m the only one who knows the full financial picture…”
She didn’t want to hear any more.
“I’ll likely have questions while reviewing these—stay with me.”
“Yes, Milady.”
Riden began combing through the ledgers, starting with the accounting books.
Just as Glenn had said, the finances were a disaster.
If only they had kept their business ventures going—things might not be this bad.
But after the couple died in that tragic carriage accident, the estate was like a ship adrift without a captain.
“Why didn’t you tell me? Even today—you tried to keep this from me until I demanded it.”
Glenn hesitated before finally speaking.
“Once you become the Duke’s wife, the right to manage this estate would transfer to the Duke’s household. I didn’t want to trouble you unnecessarily with—”
“Unnecessary?”
I’m not going to become a duchess! This is my business!
“What if the Duke’s family fired all of you the moment I got married?”
“I didn’t want you to worry about such things—”
Bang!
Riden slammed the desk even harder this time.
“That’s exactly why I’m here! Even if I become a duchess, I’m still Riden McCurry!”
If I hadn’t insisted, I might never have known and could’ve been tossed onto the streets!
Ignoring her stinging hand, Riden dug into the documents again.
Fortunately, there were still some stable income sources in the county. With proper restructuring, they could phase out the failing businesses.
The real issue was the marriage contract.
Riden skimmed through the elegant leather-bound agreement.
‘This is no small-time marriage—it’s a contract between noble houses.’
In South Korea, even if a father forced such a marriage on his daughter, the law wouldn’t uphold it—contracts that infringe on basic rights like freedom of marriage are void.
‘But I don’t know how the laws work here.’
Shouting “I won’t marry!” without understanding the risks might land her with a huge penalty.
“Glenn.”
“Yes, Milady.”
This time, surely she’d ask for the top dressmaker…
Glenn straightened up.
“Bring me the best lawyer—as quickly as possible. And make sure they’re trustworthy and discreet. I intend to keep the contents of our discussion secret.”
Glenn’s proud posture crumbled while Riden buried herself once more in her mountain of paperwork.
Some time later at the Kenwolf Dukedom…
The moment Ethan arrived in the capital, he was whisked straight past his ducal residence to the imperial palace.
After all, the star of the victory celebration couldn’t be absent.
Held hostage at a drunken revelry until dawn, Ethan had only just returned this morning and managed to snatch a brief nap.
“What kind of energy do those old geezers even have to drink like that… Sorry I got back so late, Mother.”
He greeted his mother, smiling.
Then, opening his arms wide, he stepped in for a hug.
As expected—
Samantha dashed toward the doorway the moment she spotted Ethan.
Her son, returned from war after three years!
But with a face full of emotion, instead of hugging him, she grabbed the towel draped over his shoulder and whacked him across the chest.
Whack!
“Ow, Mother. That stings.”
But Samantha didn’t care. Her beating continued.
Ethan, having rushed to her room with only a quick wash and wearing a loosely tied robe, was met with the sting of motherly love as his bare chest was thoroughly scolded.
Whack! Whack!
Ethan folded his hands modestly over his chest.
“I think I’m getting hit more than I did during the war.”
“I told you to always present yourself properly! What kind of delinquent shows up at noon with his chest hanging out like he’s just come from a brothel?!”
“Ha ha, you must be overjoyed to see me. I’m alive and well.”
He pulled her into a warm hug, despite his reddened chest.
His mother wasn’t one for affectionate words.
But Ethan understood—her beatings meant she was relieved he was alive.
“I’m okay. I didn’t get hurt.”
Ethan gently patted her small shoulders as she slumped against him.
He had surely suffered wounds that weren’t visible—just like his father.
The family’s curse had passed from her husband to Ethan.
Samantha worried he might follow in his father’s tragic footsteps.
She bit her lip to hide her concern.
But then, she noticed something.
“Ethan, where did the shadows under your eyes go? Why is your complexion so healthy?”
Cursed by a bloodline curse, Ethan had long suffered insomnia.
Plus, he’d just returned from war, and that night had also been a full moon—a day when the curse peaked.
She expected him to look wrecked.
Instead, he looked refreshed.
With a blank expression, Ethan replied,
“I slept very well recently. That might be why.”
“When? When exactly?!”
“The night my fiancée secretly visited me.”
“That night? You spent the whole night together? She didn’t just stop by in disguise for a glance?”
“I think… she stayed until morning.”
“So it worked. It really worked.”
The Kenwolf family’s curse came from the dark god Berbes.
The countermeasure was to place the cursed heir in close proximity to someone strongly influenced by Shiraka, a god who opposed Berbes—thus neutralizing the curse.
It was a theoretical solution—but now Samantha saw the results with her own eyes.
“Now I understand!”
Seeing Ethan’s puzzled expression, she continued.
“If she only came to test you, she wouldn’t have stayed by your side all night. And she picked that exact night of all days. She knew who you were. She guessed what might happen—and stayed with you.”
Samantha tightened her grip on a letter in her hand.
Her informant had just sent word that since arriving at the Count’s estate, everyone had come to like Riden McCurry.
It contradicted the nasty rumors she’d heard before—but now, learning that the girl stayed up to save Ethan, it all made sense.
“I judged too quickly. She saved you, and I still resented her without even meeting her.”
“…”
“How can I repay her? What should I do for her?”
Excited, Samantha began listing possible gifts.
But Ethan had a different take.
“I’m pretty sure she came to test me.”
His voice turned gruff with displeasure.
If she only meant to save him, why hide her identity?
“She probably wanted to see just how cursed I really was, since I couldn’t even marry freely.”
By proving her usefulness and staying by his side, she could gain leverage in the marriage.
Suddenly frustrated, Ethan ran a hand through his hair.
That night, even in the oppressive humidity, her gentle chatter had been strangely comforting.
But now, knowing it might’ve been calculated—he felt irritated.
That warm memory was now tainted.
As Ethan muttered bitterly, Samantha asked in a quiet voice,
“…You’re not thinking of breaking off the marriage, are you?”
“I’ll marry her. She’d be a fool not to.”
Samantha gave him a curious look.
As if to say, Why so confident?
Where else could she find better terms than this?
He had asked himself that too—and reached the same conclusion.
Samantha leaned against the doorway, watching her son shift between scowling and smirking with concern.
This marriage had to happen.
Still uneasy, she called for her head maid once Ethan left.
“Where’s that girl heading next?”
“The Count’s butler made a personal reservation at a dressmaker.”
“Is that so…”
A determined look settled over Samantha’s face—as if she’d just made up her mind.
