~Chapter 10~
Mrs. Kim Si-eom felt a powerful urge to slam her head into something—but held herself back.
She had two sons who still needed to gain a lot, and the Duchess of Kenwolf was one of the most powerful women in the world, overflowing with wealth and influence.
So she pulled her mouth up into a strained smile and lowered her eyes in a show of fake humility.
“I believe we belong to the same ladies’ society. I look forward to seeing you again soon.”
She bowed her head to Samantha, who didn’t even bother replying, then turned to leave. Behind her, the boutique owner sneered.
“Excuse me, ma’am. Today was originally reserved for Lady McCurry only, so we won’t be making your dress. You can take your money back—we don’t need double.”
‘That bitch?!’
She’d been so happy to shove the money into her pocket earlier!
Mrs. Kim Si-eom was fuming, but she didn’t let her trembling smile drop until the very end.
She had two sons—both of marriageable age.
Meanwhile…
Samantha assumed that rescuing Riden from such an unpleasant scene must’ve earned her some points as a future mother-in-law.
But Riden’s thoughts were wildly different.
Watching the Marchioness of Florence slink away with her tail between her legs, Riden swallowed hard in fear.
“I’ll take it from here. You may go.”
A bigger monster had appeared, vanquished the smaller one, and claimed her as its prize.
Transferred without her consent to a far more terrifying woman, Riden stared blankly at the floor, then cast a quick glance at her future mother-in-law.
Their eyes met.
The duchess’s icy-white face and glowing crimson eyes looked like they could shatter her into eight pieces.
‘Is this some kind of magical realm? Is there dark magic at work here?’
If the Marchioness cost double, then this mother-in-law was “mother-in-law-style: double.”
If her trauma had a multiplier, this place had to be cursed with black magic that made everything twice as bad.
Samantha, unaware of these thoughts, quietly observed Riden with lowered eyes.
The small, skinny, yellow-tinted girl stood there trembling and barely breathing, like a dying chick.
‘My future daughter-in-law is extremely frail. If she’s not cared for properly, she’ll suffer terribly.’
She looked like she was on the verge of death. Samantha wanted to ask gently, Are you all right?, but they weren’t close enough for such words.
They’d only met once during the signing of the marriage contract. It was barely more than an acquaintance.
Samantha waved away Laria, the nanny, and others, clearing the room.
She thought hard about what to say, and finally opened her mouth.
“I heard you haven’t found a chaperone yet?”
“……”
“I’ll gladly take on that role.”
After glancing around the boutique, she continued.
“It looks like you came to have your debutante dress made. I’d like to handle that as well. Don’t worry—it will be of far better quality than anything here.”
“……”
“So don’t worry about a thing. High society may seem like a thorny path at first, but do you know who I am? Just hold your spoon—I’ll feed you everything.”
Her tone was that of a mother hen nurturing her chick. She was promising full support for her daughter-in-law’s entrance into society.
Feeling quite pleased with herself, Samantha smiled inwardly.
After all, she only had sons. Helping a future daughter-in-law with debutante preparations had always been a little dream of hers.
She finished her speech and fell silent…
…and Riden’s PTSD exploded.
She was transported to a scene from her past life—meeting her ex-mother-in-law for the first time after getting engaged.
That woman had said nothing at first, just stared at Dain.
Riden had immediately understood that gaze. The way someone looked at a pitiful orphan who couldn’t measure up to their noble family.
Then, after a long silence, Mrs. Kim had finally spoken:
“You must be worried about preparing for the wedding, but don’t be. You probably didn’t learn how, since you don’t have a mother. I’ll personally help you pick out household items for the newlywed home. You’re lucky to have such a caring mother-in-law.”
Creepy! Exactly the same!
Maybe even scarier.
Riden momentarily wondered how the duchess knew she hadn’t submitted a chaperone request—but figured it wasn’t impossible if the woman had been keeping tabs.
‘I’ll just say I don’t need a chaperone.’
She couldn’t shout about breaking the engagement yet—hadn’t seen the lawyer—but she could at least say no to the chaperone offer.
She opened her mouth.
“Um, Mother…”
“Did you just call me ‘Mother’?”
Gasp!
She’d gotten so absorbed in the moment, she had accidentally used a term from her past life!
Calling the duchess “Mother” when they’d practically just met… Riden rushed to correct herself, but Samantha spoke first.
“My daughter-in-law has a bold little streak, doesn’t she?”
So daring—calling me “Mother” like that!
Wanting to get closer so soon—how adorable.
Not to be outdone, Samantha proudly declared Riden “my daughter-in-law” and felt deeply satisfied.
Riden began to tremble uncontrollably.
She squeezed her eyes shut and replied,
“Ah, no. That was a mistake—I didn’t mean—”
“A mistake?”
Samantha’s voice turned as sharp as an icy dagger, and Riden couldn’t raise her head.
But then came something unexpected—a soft, kind voice that settled on Riden’s shoulders like a warm blanket.
“That couldn’t be. It was perfect.”
“…?”
“You did well. It was lovely to hear. Keep calling me Mother from now on.”
Wait… this is going differently?
Riden cautiously peeked up at the duchess. Her eyes, while still intense, now seemed warmer.
‘Maybe… maybe she’s different from my last mother-in-law?’
And she was.
Samantha, having only raised sons, felt something stir in her when she saw this small, timid girl so clearly frightened.
She wanted to reassure her.
‘Calling her my daughter-in-law feels too distant.’
Meeting Riden’s eyes with unusual gentleness, Samantha responded:
“No—if you’re my daughter-in-law, you’re like a daughter. I want to think of you as one.”
“……!”
I can’t believe I’m hearing this again.
At that moment, Riden’s PTSD reached its peak.
Pain stabbed through her chest, carved from years of accumulated wounds.
‘You idiot. Why are you getting your hopes up again? How many times will you repeat this? Do you need to die five more times to learn?’
Call her a daughter, call her anything—Riden had no intention of being either.
‘When is Glenn bringing the lawyer already?’
What’s he doing, studying for the bar exam?
She wasn’t going to marry. But since she couldn’t say it outright yet, at the very least—she had to reject the chaperone.
“Mother, I would truly appreciate you being my chaperone, but I’m afraid people might suspect there’s already an arrangement between the Kenwolf and McCurry houses…”
Their political marriage was a secret.
According to the contract, they were supposed to meet at the debutante ball, fall in love at first sight, and then marry naturally.
“Hmm, you make a good point.”
Phew, that was close.
Seeing Samantha deep in thought, Riden quietly let out a sigh of relief.
But just then, the duchess beamed.
“In that case, my dear…”
“……?”
“If you’re worried about appearances, I’ll just be your secret chaperone. How about that?”
“Secret… chaperone?”
Samantha gave her future daughter-in-law the brightest smile.
“Yes! You can secretly come live at the duchy, and I’ll personally teach you all the necessary social skills. That way, no rumors! Isn’t that great? I think it’s perfect, dear.”
No no no no no no NO.
Living with her in-laws before marriage?
And she said it with such a sweet smile—it was terrifying.
Clearly, the duchess was the upgraded version of Mrs. Kim Si-eom.
Riden nearly screamed.
“Um, I think staying at the duchy might cause some inconvenience—”
“Hmm? Inconvenience for me? Why?”
“I’m grateful, truly, but accepting such favors before marriage feels… inappropriate…”
“Nonsense. If that’s inappropriate, I want you to burden me every day.”
“B-but I have no parents. If I also leave the McCurry estate empty—”
“Wow.”
No, no, no, NO.
Riden screamed inside a thousand times.
Hold strong.
Reject it clearly. Say no. Just say it!
She opened her mouth wide and declared:
“Yes.”
Her hand dropped in despair.
That same answer she’d always given in her past life—yes, with slumped shoulders.
‘I really haven’t shaken this disease off…’
Diagnosis: “Yes-Yes Syndrome.”
A chronic illness from her past life—saying “yes” on the outside while screaming no, absolutely not, screw off inside.
It came from making bold suggestions to resolve conflicts—only to be crushed into submission twenty times in a row.
And Riden had the terminal stage.
Of course she said “yes” in front of her mother-in-law—it was practically instinct.
Despite getting a second life, her illness hadn’t gone away.
She was still a patient.
“No, no… since we have to avoid prying eyes, not the duchy… Yes! The count’s estate will do. I’ll send a carriage. All you need to do is come.”
“……Yes.”
Now fully aware she was a patient, Riden found the second “yes” came easily.
What else could she say?
Two days later.
Two sleek carriages glided through the gates of the McCurry estate.
