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~Chapter 50~
Even though she couldn’t believe it, Riden asked with a suspicious look, “Seriously? Why would she cook herself?” Merrick nodded calmly.
The servants peeking from the kitchen also nodded like, “You just realized?”
Riden was about to ask “Why?” when—
“I heard you liked tomato soup when you were staying in the Count’s estate. When you can’t eat well, you should have comfort food from home.”
Riden stood up and tried to get the soup bowl back from the duchess, who had already taken it.
“Why did you take that!”
“Because I want to eat it.”
Riden hugged the bowl protectively like someone might snatch it away and started eating again.
She thought, She’s only being nice because her son would be affected if I got sick.
Halfway through finishing the soup, she asked:
“You’re telling me to stay near His Grace more often after eating this, right? Because I have a calming effect?”
“You’re sharp. You guessed right.”
Riden liked her honesty. No fake words like, “I care more about you than my son.” Just clean, straightforward.
Maybe it was the hot soup, but her stomach settled and she started to feel warm.
She finished the last spoonful and said,
“I like this more.”
“What do you mean?”
Riden looked down at her empty bowl.
She had often wondered what kind of person her mother might have been like if she had one.
This dish felt like something a mother would make—lovingly cooked but a bit off the mark. The kind that makes you scold her a little but smile anyway.
“Because it doesn’t taste perfect, it feels more like something a mom would make. That’s why I like it. Thank you, Duchess.”
Both the duchess and Merrick fell silent. Then the duchess slowly took off her half-mask.
Riden hesitantly asked,
“But… why do you keep wearing that mask?”
The duchess’s red eyes widened.
“Dear, are you okay?”
“Me?”
What does she mean ‘okay’?
Riden wasn’t sure, but answered confidently:
“I’m more than okay!”
‘Was that comment about the soup being bad too rude?’ she wondered.
So, she carefully offered a paper bag with the Sunset Cream logo on it.
“This is from a dessert café the Count’s household is reopening. Well, not new exactly, but we’re planning a relaunch. I brought some samples.”
The duchess opened the yellow box and commented briefly:
“It’s pretty.”
That one simple line made Riden feel happy.
“Would you like to try one?”
Inside were six assorted desserts. Merrick took a bite of a donut, and vanilla cream burst out with a strong orange aroma.
“It’s really good!”
The duchess nodded too.
“It’s excellent. Well done.”
Riden beamed. If even these two with refined palates liked it, it was sure to sell well.
‘If it suits their elite tastes, then we’re good.’
Then the duchess gave the paper bag a critical look.
“The box inside is fine, but the outer wrapping is too flimsy.”
Riden agreed with a nod—she’d thought the same thing.
‘But I can’t just hand over a bare cardboard box either…’
As she was thinking about that, the duchess called someone.
Riden had no intention of attending the salon hosted by Baroness Florence. She just wanted to anonymously distribute her tips to the noble ladies.
But then—
“My Lady, a letter has arrived for you.”
A letter? Who would send me a letter… Oh, maybe it’s Mari!
“Who’s it from? Lady Baroness Haerne?”
“No? It says it’s from Baroness Florence.”
“…!!”
Riden rushed to take the letter, holding her nose.
As soon as she lowered her hand from her nose—
“Blegh!”
“My Lady! Are you alright? Should I lay you down?”
“No, it’s fine. I’ve just been eating too many desserts while prepping the café. That must be it.”
She reassured the maid and opened the letter.
Why would she send me a letter?
[Lady Riden? How have you been? I was so struck by your presence at Atelier Laria the other day, I just had to write to you. You’re debuting this social season, right? I imagine it must be overwhelming without parents to guide you in choosing a proper suitor. That’s why I’m hosting this salon—for young ladies like you. I sincerely hope you’ll attend and brighten the gathering. Also, I heard there was a little misunderstanding between you and my son, the Baron. But isn’t he my child, after all? His taste surely comes from me. So it’s no surprise he was taken by you, just as I am. Some people misunderstood his attempt to greet you warmly. If you, too, are still under that misapprehension, I truly hope you’ll come to the salon. I’ll clear everything up. I’ll be waiting.]
Baroness Florence’s letter was clearly a scheme to lure Riden into attending her salon.
‘I wasn’t going to go…’
But now, reading it, Riden imagined the woman’s twisted expression when someone brought up the contents of her anonymous letter.
‘She probably wants me as a daughter-in-law.’
If a “carefully chosen bride” ends up laughing in her face, how would that Baroness feel?
Riden began to think deeply.
‘If I’m going to clash with a villainess eventually, maybe it’s better to make the first move—like I did with Baroness Dolomy.’
With that thought, she shoved the smelly letter aside with a grimace.
Madam Kim Si-eom woke up two hours earlier than usual that morning.
She stood by the window, looking out over the misty garden, then wrapped a shawl around her shoulders and walked outside.
Today was the day she would host her very first salon as Baroness Florence.
In her past life, she used to climb mountains on important days to soak in nature’s energy. Since she couldn’t do that here, she decided to mimic the ritual.
She observed the trees in the garden and stopped in front of one.
After inspecting it, she turned around—and began slamming her back into it.
Thud, thud.
This was her usual mountain ritual: slapping her back against a tree.
“If you take someone else’s precious daughter and make her suffer… won’t you go to hell? Hup!”
Madam Kim had prepared many things for today. The most important?
Memorizing answers that would impress the mothers of noble daughters.
She chanted as she struck the tree.
“Is it a sin… hup… to have a daughter? Hup!”
Suddenly, she stopped and sneered.
“Of course it is. Are daughters and sons the same?”
She nodded to herself, then resumed slapping her back against the tree.
After finishing her ritual, she returned inside and called for a maid.
“Have the flowers arrived?”
“Yes, Madam. Just now. Lavender and roses and—”
“No need to list them. Just make them look good. If it’s ugly, you’ll be punished.”
“Yes, Madam. I’ll do my best!”
To another maid, she asked about the tea and desserts for the salon.
“We’ve prepared Darjeeling and Earl Grey.”
“You better do well too. Unless you want to get whipped like your friend.”
“Yes, Madam.”
Then it was time to arrange the seating.
She looked over the drawing room chairs, deep in thought.
‘Which family’s daughter has the largest dowry?’
She had invited a string of mothers with unmarried daughters from the capital, and she wanted those with bigger dowries to sit closer to her.
‘I’ll place Riden up front where she’s most visible.’
Next came the outfit and accessories.
She changed into the outfit she’d prepared, then opened her jewelry box.
She chose pearls—simple yet elegant.
Too flashy, and she’d look like a greedy mother-in-law. Simplicity was best.
“And tell Sungmin—no, I mean Damian—not to leave the house today.”
