~Chapter 22~
‘What… what just happened?’
Just moments ago, Riden had been sitting in the middle of the atelier.
But now, the space around her transformed into a familiar, suffocating place.
‘This is… my ex-in-law’s kitchen?’
She turned her head frantically and looked at Baron Dolomy.
He was still sitting with his daughter Henji by his side, pleading to Riden.
Seeing his face, Riden screamed internally.
Kim Si-eom’s face overlapped with his.
Through his face, she heard her ex-mother-in-law’s voice.
“There you go again. Don’t you get it? You’re the one ruining this family’s peace. Did you grow up without parents? Is that why you’re so hypersensitive and never let things go? Do you have to cause trouble until you’re satisfied?”
Riden didn’t realise her own face had gone pale as she clutched her skirt tightly.
Her ex-husband’s face flashed in her mind.
His exhausted eyes, always hiding behind his mother.
Whenever Riden raised small complaints from discomfort, her ex-husband would crush her by siding with his mother.
Baron Dolomy was unintentionally triggering her deepest wounds.
“What would someone like you, who’s never known parental love, ever understand! When you mistreat my son, it tears my heart apart!”
They always said hurting one person hurt two in a parent-child relationship, making it impossible for Riden to speak up to her husband.
She felt sweat gathering in her palms.
‘Get it together. You’re not Jung Da-in anymore. You’re Riden… This is just an illusion!’
Baron Dolomy wasn’t her ex-mother-in-law. Henji wasn’t her ex-husband.
But it felt like someone was squeezing her throat, and no words came out.
It was like sleep paralysis.
She couldn’t breathe.
Riden struggled to escape the nightmare, but her hands only soaked in sweat, no sound escaping her lips.
‘…This is just an illusion.’
She compulsively rubbed her damp palms against her dress and looked at Marick.
Looking at him reminded her that she wasn’t there anymore, that she could live differently now.
Marick was watching her too.
But instead of the reassurance she sought, his expression said:
“Why can’t you just agree and move on? Must you always resist and ruin the peace? Let’s just keep things easy.”
Her tense shoulders slumped. In this situation, she had only one choice.
Riden nodded almost imperceptibly.
It was a signal of permission.
“Really? You will allow it? Thank you, my lady! Henji, what are you doing? Bow your thanks!”
Henji bowed deeply before Riden.
“I deeply thank you for your gracious kindness.”
‘Hmph.’
Marick watched the scene, tapping his toe.
‘There’s something going on.’
When Riden looked at him, he responded with a gentle gaze.
It said: “Everything here is yours. Feel free to refuse if you wish.”
He had expected her to refuse with a smile, as she skillfully had earlier.
But this time, Riden chose differently.
He didn’t yet know why.
For now, Marick decided to simply watch what she would do next.
Henji, believing she had won access to the atelier, stood proudly.
“Then, may I continue choosing?”
“Yes, please do.”
Henji moved to the fabric section.
There, top-tier fabrics reserved for royalty and the highest noblewomen were piled neatly.
Henji tried to stand tall as she pointed at them.
“Tailor, which fabric is the most expensive? I want something that suits me well.”
Phil, the tailor, pulled out a few with a stoic face and laid them before her.
“These are expensive, aren’t they? I want something rare and hard to find.”
Phil replied coldly while sifting through them.
“None of these fabrics are cheap. These are the ones that suit the Baroness best.”
“…”
His eyes were icy, and his answers merciless.
‘Why is he treating me like this when I bowed and asked so politely?’
“I want to see silks or Shima cotton that the Duchess usually wears. I want the finest.”
Phil’s eyes narrowed even colder.
“Baroness, those are extremely expensive with limited production. Only a few pieces exist…”
He glanced at Riden and said,
“These fabrics are reserved first for Lady McCurry. While she has permitted you to have a dress made, that doesn’t mean you may take better fabrics than hers.”
Henji’s face flushed red up to her neck, her eyes burning.
“I deserve the best too! I’m the daughter of a noble family’s retainer. Isn’t it the duty of a future Duchess to care for her retainers?”
Her sharp outburst drew all eyes in the atelier.
And now, everyone looked at Riden.
Henji was seeking her approval.
Marick locked his gaze onto Riden, who stood silently like a doll.
“Yes.”
Riden’s voice was barely audible, like someone who had lost all will to fight long ago.
‘This won’t do.’
Marick recalled the morning’s letter from his mother.
[Let the Baron and his daughter act freely. I plan to use them as an educational example. Isn’t it fortunate a perfect sample appeared on its own?]
His mother planned to handle them directly, but Marick didn’t want to leave Riden like this.
His lips curved into a smile, but his eyes remained cold.
There were no other schedules.
Normally, she would have education in preparation for social season, but her teachers had not yet arrived.
Riden, exhausted from the morning, lay in bed for a nap.
‘I feel a little better.’
Even a brief rest helped her recover slightly.
But she still felt too weak to move, so she lay there, blinking slowly.
On the painted ceiling, cherubic angels flew happily.
‘What was that earlier… Is my body too weak?’
Knock knock.
“Miss, are you there?”
It was Corel.
“Yes, come in.”
Corel entered, humming happily.
She carried a wine bottle, returning from checking the cellar as Riden had asked.
Riden sprang up.
“Did you confirm it?”
“Yes, as you said, miss.”
Ah, it’s done! Now only execution remains.
She let out a relieved groan and flopped back down, but Corel sat beside her, whispering.
“By the way, miss. Please get up and look at this.”
Corel held up long boots.
“What’s that?”
“Your riding boots, of course.”
Riden’s eyes widened.
“I have riding boots? I can ride a horse?”
She had tried riding before but couldn’t even get on, thinking she simply couldn’t ride.
Corel chuckled fondly.
“You couldn’t ride alone due to your health, but you always loved horses. Every time the Count visited the estate, you begged him to take you riding.”
“Ah, I did…”
But now, why?
She no longer had a father to ride with her.
As she looked up in confusion, Corel answered brightly.
“The Count asked if you’d like to go riding around the villa with him.”
Why…?
Thinking of the reason, Riden’s head tilted to the side.
