~Chapter 9~
While Riden was recalling the original story, she flinched as she saw the Marchioness of Florence approaching her.
“Me?”
Was she coming to her?
She looked around to see if maybe someone was behind her—but there was no one.
“Please don’t talk to me! Villainess!”
I’m not the original Riden! I’m not giving out money! Even if I had some, you wouldn’t be getting any!
“The young lady of House McCurry, yes?”
It happened.
She tried looking away, pretending to be distracted, but it was no use.
Even though a countess outranked a marchioness, older noblewomen with greater social experience deserved respect.
Since noblewomen kept their titles until their sons married, she still had to address the woman as the Marchioness of Florence.
Her body instinctively remembered how to respond.
Trying to appear composed, Riden offered a graceful curtsy, slightly lowering her waist and stepping one foot back.
“Good afternoon, Madam.”
“A truly good afternoon indeed. To happen upon such a… refined and precious young lady by chance. Hohoho. Yes, Lady Riden.”
Why are you calling my name out of nowhere and laughing like that?! Scary! Also, introduce yourself!
Riden already knew her name—thanks to her possession of this body—but the Marchioness hadn’t introduced herself yet.
The sense of danger Riden instinctively felt from a minor villain like the Marchioness made her take a cautious step back.
That was when the woman suddenly grabbed Riden’s hand.
“I heard you lost your parents recently? At an age when a young girl still needs guidance… How heartbreaking. Come now, I’ll help you choose your dress. I know exactly what styles best flatter a woman. In times like these, you need a wise elder by your side.”
Eyes wide, Riden tried to pull her hand away.
But the tighter she pulled, the harder the woman clutched her.
It felt like she was being dragged by a runaway dump truck.
“Madam, I appreciate your words, but I came with someone to help me with my dress. See, over there—that’s my nanny. So if you’d please—”
Flustered, she pointed at Corel nearby, but the Marchioness interrupted before she could finish.
“Nanny? What kind of taste would a nanny have? A nanny’s only useful for keeping a girl from crying while she changes clothes! You must feel bad rejecting me, but don’t worry about that. I’m offering help from the goodness of my heart. Understand?”
“No, it’s not guilt, it’s really—”
“I said it’s fine, now come along!”
As Riden was helplessly dragged along, a familiar scene flashed before her eyes.
It was a horrifying déjà vu from her past life—a confrontation with her former mother-in-law, Mrs. Kim Si-eom.
Every time Dain had gathered the courage to speak her truth, her words would bounce off the fortress of ignorance and condescension her mother-in-law had built around herself.
Dain’s carefully chosen words would shatter and scatter at her feet, eventually trampled underfoot.
Those shards of frustration lingered in every corner of the house, impossible to clean up no matter how hard she tried.
She’d always felt suffocated in that home.
Now, that same oppressive feeling washed over Riden.
She looked up at the Marchioness dragging her along.
Gasp!
It felt like she could see the invisible aura of ignorance and arrogance clinging to the woman.
Why the hell do I have to see this again in this world?!
“Ugh.”
Her trauma triggered physical symptoms.
Nausea surged, and she bit down on her lip to hold it back.
“You shouldn’t be so disrespectful to your elders, young lady. If you want your in-laws to like you, learn to decline properly. You’re at a marriageable age, after all. If I had to guess, you’ll be married this year. But with an attitude like that, who’d want you? That’s why someone like you especially needs thoughtful in-laws. Understand?”
BEEEEEP—
That sound—the ringing in her ears—was the same one she’d heard as she died and again when she woke in this world.
She could barely hear what the Marchioness was saying anymore.
Is this Riden’s body reacting this way?
Back when Dain had faced her former mother-in-law, she’d suffered emotionally, but never like this. Riden felt like she might collapse on the spot.
This girl needs to marry well—or not at all! I only survived because I was physically healthy. If she gets a mother-in-law like mine, she’ll die young!
“Ugh!”
As another wave of nausea hit, Riden clenched her jaw and struggled to breathe.
“Duchess Kenwolf!”
Laria cried out in alarm.
Watching from the private area inside the boutique was none other than Samantha Kenwolf, Duchess of the powerful Kenwolf family.
Samantha unfolded her arms and stood from her seat, thinking—
My child isn’t just physically weak—she’s mentally fragile too.
What’s happening?
Riden, dizzy and disoriented, looked toward the sudden arrival.
Laria had called the elegant silver-haired woman “Duchess Kenwolf.” That meant—
She’s my future mother-in-law!
Since the political engagement hadn’t been officially canceled, that title still stood.
The Duchess’s hair sparkled like strands of silver, her pale skin was icy white like carved marble, and her entire presence was as cold and sculpted as a master artisan’s statue.
Only her crimson eyes burned like fire, making anyone feel the urge to look away.
In short: absolutely terrifying!
Her previous mother-in-law had at least looked normal. This one? She was terrifying just by existing.
The nausea was now the least of Riden’s worries.
Standing between the ghost of her past and this fierce duchess, Riden just wanted to cry.
Why is she even here? In the original novel, the duchess only appeared closer to the wedding date.
But Riden had no time to process it.
Samantha’s fiery red eyes were locked on the hands of the Marchioness, still clutching Riden’s.
Then came her voice—noble and commanding:
“You there, unidentified lady?”
Mrs. Kim Si-eom’s insides twisted. Though the duchess’s question was simple, to her it felt like:
“I’m a duchess. And you are…?”
“…”
A duchess? Right after the royal family?!
She remembered the noble hierarchy her second son had once explained, complete with a pyramid chart.
Marchioness vs. Duchess? Night and day.
Frozen in place, Mrs. Kim couldn’t respond.
Samantha continued.
“You have some business with my ward?”
Her words seemed to say, Whatever it is, you shouldn’t.
Ward…?
She vaguely remembered her son explaining that a “ward” was a young lady under the sponsorship and protection of a chaperone.
So the duchess is this girl’s chaperone?
The thought that her desired daughter-in-law might already be claimed made Mrs. Kim tighten her grip.
Someone else understood the implications too: Laria, the boutique owner.
The notoriously aloof Duchess Kenwolf had personally declared herself Riden’s sponsor?
Until now, the power balance between the count’s daughter and the marchioness had been uncertain.
But with the duchess’s arrival, the authority was crystal clear.
Laria acted quickly.
She yanked the Marchioness’s hand away with surprising force and scolded,
“Marchioness! What do you think you’re doing? Lady McCurry is unwell! Look—her hand’s red! Just because you paid double, you think you own the place?”
“You—!”
Mrs. Kim turned to snap at her, then clamped her mouth shut.
She hurriedly plastered on a fake smile and bowed politely, imitating the curtsy Riden had used earlier.
“Duchess Kenwolf, I am Simone Florence, lady of the House of Florence. I was simply offering guidance to Lady McCurry ahead of her social debut. No expectations or compensation—purely out of goodwill—”
“I see.”
Without waiting for the rest, Samantha sliced through the sentence like a blade.
“I’ll handle things from here.”
“…”
“You may go.”
The dismissal was so blatant that Mrs. Kim’s hand trembled where it clutched her dress.
