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Chapter 42
“Eric, it seems my mother really likes me.”
“That’s surprising. She’s usually so difficult.”
“Just like I captured your heart, I’ve won over your mother’s heart at first sight.”
It was hard to believe that they were getting married tomorrow. In her mind, it had been an unexpected, sudden scenario. Doana had imagined a more conventional reaction: Eric’s mother showing up to scold her, slap her, or try to bribe her to leave—just like the dramatic scenes in the Korean dramas she had seen. But none of that happened.
“No matter how I think about it, I really am the protagonist of a novel.”
Otherwise, nothing would have gone so smoothly. Doana hummed a tune as she approached Eric. She perched herself on his lap, where he was still sitting sullenly.
“Aren’t you excited? We’re getting married tomorrow.”
“Maybe because I’ve done this once already.”
…Really. There’s nothing you can’t say in front of the woman you’re marrying. She wasn’t in the best mood, but today she decided not to quarrel.
“I’ve been married before, after all.”
Of course, not in this novel, but back in Korea.
“It shouldn’t be much different. After all, this novel was written by a Korean author.”
Weddings were essentially the same everywhere. The difference was only in how much money was spent; the core events were the same. Entering the hall, greeting people, exchanging vows of love, watching the congratulatory performances, taking photos, and eating. It felt like there weren’t any cameras in this world… Doana stared at a large portrait of Rose and Eric hanging in the center of the room. Rose was wearing a wedding dress, likely painted on their wedding day. The portrait looked very much like the real person. Doana muttered as she looked up at it.
“But shouldn’t we take that down now? You’re about to be a groom, after all. Having your ex-wife’s portrait hanging is just… strange.”
Eric’s gaze followed hers upward. He had forgotten about the portrait. Seeing it again brought memories of his wedding day with Rose—the shy smile on her face in her pure white dress.
“She was really beautiful that day.”
Eric frowned at the passing thought.
“What am I thinking? Beautiful? That foolish woman?”
He quickly dismissed the thought.
“When you dwell in memories, you come up with all sorts of useless ideas.”
It seemed his memories had been idealized. Eric called a servant into his room.
“Take that down.”
“Yes, sir.”
Doana realized that “take down” didn’t mean throw away, so she asked cautiously.
“Take it down? Where to?”
“There’s a storage room for things like this.”
Her cautious guess had been correct.
“Why not just burn it instead of storing it?”
It didn’t make sense to her. Her fiancé seemed strangely nostalgic about his ex-wife.
“How can you even store something that big? Wouldn’t it be better to just burn it?”
Doana casually linked her arm with Eric’s and whispered softly. The portrait was removed successfully, but burning it was another matter.
“Burn it? You dare suggest burning a painting with my face in it?”
Eric’s reaction was more defiant than she expected. Doana looked at him directly, trying to soothe him.
“Come now. That’s not what I meant.”
Doana swallowed the words that were rising to her lips. Eric’s expression was chillingly cold.
“Burning the painting must have some big meaning here.”
The customs in the novel were not the same as in Korea. Doana decided to step back; it wasn’t worth upsetting Eric. The servant carrying the portrait looked at Eric, who spoke coldly.
“Make sure it goes to the storage room.”
“Yes, sir.”
The servant bowed, holding the large portrait, and waddled out.
“Cheer up. Don’t let wrinkles form on that handsome face.”
Doana playfully kissed Eric on the cheek.
“Hmm. Still not feeling good? Shall I make you feel better?”
She seductively wrapped her arms around his neck and looked at him provocatively. Her lips brushed against his—forehead, nose, cheek, and even neck. Sitting on his lap, she got up and gently pushed the chair he was sitting on, kneeling before him. Submissive gestures were one of Eric’s favorite traits. Doana blinked her long lashes at him. Was it working? Eric’s gaze softened compared to before. The room felt heated, like a fireplace had been lit.
Doana and Eric exchanged heated looks without needing words. Then, an oblivious servant knocked on the door.
“Count, is Doana here? The guest sent by your mother has arrived to measure the dress for tomorrow.”
Doana sprang up from her kneeling position.
“Oh, the designer my mother sent is already here!”
Her face flushed as she smiled. Only Eric seemed a little disappointed. He grabbed Doana’s waist, forcing her back onto his lap.
“Do we… really have to go now?”
His hands circled her waist. His flushed face showed he was slightly provoked by her teasing. Normally, she could have succumbed quickly, but she wanted to prioritize fitting her wedding dress for tomorrow over indulging him.
“The guest sent by your mother can’t be kept waiting.”
Doana freed herself from Eric’s arms and followed the servant to the reception room, walking confidently.
“Well, the former Countess liked Doana right away.”
“Really?”
“Yes. She said we should arrange the wedding immediately after seeing her.”
“My goodness… What is happening?”
“Rising in status really happens in an instant.”
“With someone like Doana, I might have a chance too, right?”
“Don’t talk nonsense.”
The entire estate was in a frenzy preparing for Eric and Doana’s wedding, all because Tersia instructed them to start preparing immediately. Everyone expected Doana to be the bride. Doana smiled victoriously at the whispers of people around her, including those who had previously looked down on her. They avoided her gaze like they’d seen a ghost.
“You should have treated me better from the start. Now you’ve all been marked.”
She muttered to herself, walking proudly. Upon reaching the reception room, the servants opened the doors respectfully. Doana felt a sense of superiority. Cushions, finger foods, and her favorite rooibos tea had all been prepared. Her pride swelled at the meticulous attention.
“Ah, this is the taste of power.”
Servants constantly watched her, ensuring her comfort. Doana smiled at them. Most of the staff had previously ignored her…
“Now they finally know how to line up properly.”
Before she even officially became the Countess, she had ousted Gwen and divorced Rose. The servants would certainly know the consequences of her gaining even more power.
“Hello, I’m the chief designer from Montblanc.”
“Nice to meet you, I’m Doana.”
Doana arrogantly nodded at the designer. The designer, a daughter of a famous family, narrowed her eyes but smiled politely.
“Oh my, your proportions are perfect. Anything will suit you.”
“Yes, but make it as extravagant as possible. A wedding only happens once. We can’t let it look cheap.”
Even in her previous life, Doana preferred only the finest. She had held her wedding in the most expensive hotel in Korea and rented an exorbitantly expensive dress. Though she had financial troubles due to her parents cutting support, her then-husband, Lee Dohyun, had provided everything she wanted.
“Extravagant…”
The Montblanc designer paused meaningfully.
“Well, if you want, I can make you stand out more than anyone else at the venue tomorrow.”
“Of course. I’m the main character tomorrow. I need to be far more dazzling than anyone else. Isn’t that basic for a chief designer?”
Doana spoke condescendingly. The designer, used to high-born treatment, suppressed her anger for Tersia’s sake.
“I suppose too much of anything isn’t good, though?”
“You don’t know. A wedding should always be excessive. Extravagant, sparkling. Moderation doesn’t even show the money spent.”
Doana emphasized the luxury of her wedding in Korea. The designer smiled, promising to fulfill her wishes.
“Welcome back.”
Alone in the Serviat mansion, Rose heard the door open and went downstairs. The Serviats entered, their expressions complicated.
“Was something wrong?”
Rose, sensing their unease, asked worriedly.
“Should I tell her…”
“There’s no need to tell her. Best not to.”
Whereas Libera hesitated, Damon was firm, repeating his warning before heading to the bathroom.
“Mother, what is it?”
“Your father said not to tell you. I don’t think it’s necessary anyway.”
Libera remained silent. Rose, with her honed intuition from surviving the novel, already understood why they were reacting this way.
“I know it involves Eric.”
“How did you know?”
Though she hadn’t had such perceptiveness in Korea, she had guessed correctly. Libera’s eyes flickered nervously. There was only one secret left after the divorce: Eric’s remarriage. If a friend’s husband remarried the day after his divorce, she would have hidden it too.
“I already know Eric is remarrying.”
Rose pretended to know, though she didn’t. Libera handed her the invitation.
“The ex-wife who’s still in contact with him told me. They’re getting married tomorrow.”
Seeing her ex-husband’s invitation twice—fortunately, this time it was just “ex.” Rose stared silently at the names. Groom: Eric de Wens. Bride: …
“…Huh?”
Rose tilted her head, expecting Doana’s name, but the invitation read: Bride: Belliana Dicar. It was another woman entirely.
