II - 37

Through her half-lowered eyelids, the first light of dawn seeped in. 

Perhaps it was the overwhelming beauty of this new sight that left her heart tangled with conflicting emotions. 

The annex was several times larger than her family home. Reflecting on the luxurious thoughts she indulged in while gazing at the garden, she interpreted them as a sign that there was no going back to her old life. 

These were things she was entitled to enjoy by I-jun’s side. 

“How calculating of me.” 

I-ryeong twisted her lips into a self-deprecating smile. How quickly she had started taking her newfound Cinderella-like life for granted. 

A deeply twisted emotion clawed its way out from within her chest, tightening her throat. 

It felt like mocking herself—she was merely wearing expensive clothes and pretending to be a princess. 

The bitter concoction of her own making left her feeling miserable. 

“No, no…” 

Turning away, she closed the curtains again and took in the pitch-black bedroom. Even in the darkness, she could sense the layout well enough to walk toward the bathroom without turning on the lights. The bathroom, connected to the walk-in closet, was larger than her entire room back at her parents’ house. 

I-ryeong stripped off her pajamas and stepped under the warm stream of water from the showerhead. As she wiped away the droplets soaking her face, she surveyed the bathroom she still hadn’t fully adjusted to. 

Below the large window on one wall stood a hot spring bath made of hinoki wood. Despite her preference for a simple bathtub, I-jun had insisted on installing this oversized tub. 

It was big enough to fit three adults comfortably—almost as if he intended for them to use it together. 

“I must be losing my mind.” 

Midway through lathering shampoo into her hair, I-ryeong shook her head violently. 

In her runaway imagination, vivid red blush spread across pale, untouched skin. 

“It’s because I didn’t sleep enough. That’s all.” 

Blaming her lack of sleep, she forcibly erased the embarrassing images from her mind. 

She applied foam to her chest, the soft lather enveloping her curves almost like his caresses. 

His careful yet urgent touch came to mind—the way he had cupped her breasts, kissed them hungrily, and sucked gently. 

“I’m going crazy…” 

Her cheeks flushed red with embarrassment, and an intense, tingling sensation made her legs feel weak for a moment. 

I-ryeong quickly washed away the remaining foam from her chest and thighs, then hurried out of the bathroom. 

“I-jun?” 

Wearing only a shower robe, she called out for him again, but there was still no response. 

Unlike before, she didn’t feel disappointed. In fact, she felt relieved and swiftly entered the walk-in closet. 

Her clothes were neatly organized by color, ready to wear. 

“Mrs. Choi’s handiwork, huh?” 

Thinking of Mrs. Choi, who managed the annex, a smile spread across her face. 

I-ryeong picked out a freshly pressed hanbok, changed into it, and sat in front of the vanity. With little time to spare, she tied her damp hair up into a neat bun without fully drying it. 

“Huff… It’s fine. Everything will be fine.” 

Looking into the mirror, she spoke aloud to steel herself. Still, her face remained pale, tension refusing to fade completely. 

Touching her cold lips, now devoid of warmth, she opened the vanity drawer. 

Inside, rows of cosmetics were meticulously arranged. 

“Who prepared these?” 

As the question crossed her mind, I-jun’s face naturally came to mind. 

Imagining it was his gift, she picked out a lipstick. 

It was a matte-textured lipstick from AE Cosmetics’ winter collection. A subtle beige-pink shade that blended seamlessly with her translucent skin and suited the morning perfectly. 

“Is this your work too, Vice President Seo?” 

I-ryeong marveled at how just applying the lipstick transformed her appearance. Though she’d only painted her lips, it felt as though she’d done a full face of makeup. 

Holding a small handheld mirror, she carefully examined her lips from different angles and lightly blotted them with a tissue. 

“It really doesn’t smudge…” 

The lipstick clung to her lips as if magnetized, refusing to budge easily. It had caused a storm among customers when released, praised for its unique charm and attractive color. It was already pre-selected as a seasonal item. 

She remembered how well it sold during winter field visits, especially when paired with minimal makeup. 

“He truly is impressive. No doubt about it.” 

I-jun’s exceptional pigmentation skills were unmatched in the industry. He had established AE Cosmetics’ distinct identity, something competitors couldn’t replicate. 

I-ryeong admired his unparalleled talent but also envied it. 

“I’m going to be late.” 

Snapping out of her thoughts, she practiced smiling a few times in the mirror before hastily rising from her seat.

Though she could tell her smile looked forced, she no longer had time to dwell on it. 

“Alright! Chae I-ryeong, you’ve got this!” 

As she stepped out of the bedroom, she repeated her self-pep talk several times. But the inexplicable tension and trembling refused to fade easily. 

In the end, I-ryeong stopped in front of the door handle, frozen in place. Reflecting back, she realized that her inability to fall asleep last night was because of what awaited her today. 

She had planned to wake up early, cross over to the main house, and help with breakfast preparations. No one had asked her to do so, but as a new family member, she felt an unspoken obligation to contribute. 

Shaking her head lightly to clear her thoughts, she opened the door. 

The bedroom, nestled deep within the annex, required passing through a long hallway to reach the living room. 

Holding the hem of her hanbok, she walked silently down the hallway, careful not to make a sound. 

Porcelain vases and paintings greeted her along the way. She gazed at the understated, monochromatic objets d’art, swallowing her rising emotions several times before finally reaching the living room. 

“Madam?” 

Chief Kim, who had been arranging a flower vase on the living room table, turned toward I-ryeong with a puzzled expression. 

“Did you sleep well?” 

I-ryeong approached Chief Kim, offering a polite smile as she greeted her. 

Since they would be spending their married life together, she didn’t want to draw boundaries or remain distant. 

“Yes, thanks to you, I slept well. Did you rest comfortably too?” 

Chief Kim folded her hands neatly over her apron and continued speaking. 

“If your bed feels uncomfortable at all, please don’t hesitate to let me know.” 

“I will,” I-ryeong replied with a brief nod. 

Though Chief Kim’s formal tone made her slightly uncomfortable, she didn’t show it and instead turned to leave. 

The distance from the annex to the main house wasn’t short, so she decided to hurry as fast as possible. 

“Madam?” 

Chief Kim stopped I-ryeong as she turned to leave. 

“Yes? Do you have something to say?” 

I-ryeong glanced back briefly, her mind racing with urgency as she worried about being late even if she hurried. 

“Are you going somewhere early in the morning? I ask because you’re wearing a hanbok.” 

“I’m heading over to the main house.” 

I-ryeong responded with a puzzled look, as if questioning why this was even being asked. 

“Could it be… for breakfast?” 

“Yes, Mrs. Choi.” 

I-ryeong finally turned her body fully to face Chief Kim. 

The slight smile on Mrs. Choi’s face made I-ryeong feel instinctively that something was off. 

“You don’t need to worry about that. Breakfast at the main house is under the master’s jurisdiction, and even the eldest daughter-in-law doesn’t participate.” 

“The eldest daughter-in-law?” 

I-ryeong trailed off, feeling uneasy as though her insistence was merely stubbornness. 

“Master Seo hasn’t called for you, Madam.” 

The “master” Mrs. Choi referred to was her father-in-law. 

She already knew well that meals at Dogok-dong were overseen by her father-in-law. 

But wasn’t today a special day worthy of meaning? 

“Are you sure it’s alright?” 

“This is just how things are done here at Dogok-dong.” 

What kind of place was this? A place where the opinions of those below didn’t matter? 

Feeling like an outsider who didn’t know what everyone else seemed to understand, she couldn’t help but furrow her brow. 

“Madam?” 

Mrs. Choi showed concern, but I-ryeong’s expression only grew darker. 

She was now drowning in memories of her past. 

When was it? Somewhere in her forgotten elementary school days, she remembered standing in front of the blackboard to solve a math problem. 

It was a problem she clearly knew how to solve, but the whispers of her classmates behind her distracted her, leaving her unable to write down the answer. 

“She came in second place after losing to Mingyu on the final exam.” 

“She acts like she’s better than everyone, but look at her now—pathetic.” 

Unable to take their teasing as a joke, she froze in place. 

Her classmates burst into laughter, mocking her. It wasn’t embarrassment but sheer bewilderment that left her paralyzed, unable to step away from the blackboard. 

That memory came rushing back now. This exact moment felt just like that—trapped, overwhelmed, and utterly stuck.

The smile of Mrs. Choi, whom she had thought to be kind, now felt uncomfortable—almost as if it mocked her for not knowing better. 

“It must be difficult to understand, right? It’s your first day here.” 

“Mrs. Choi...” 

In the end, I-ryeong clenched her fists tightly and bit down hard on her lower lip. 

She was ashamed of the foolish assumptions she had made. 

If there was any fault, it lay with her for not paying closer attention to this household—and with I-jun for not giving her even the slightest hint. 

“Then why did you place the hanbok in the walk-in closet of the bedroom?” 

Unable to contain her frustration, she inadvertently directed her anger at Mrs. Choi. 

She immediately realized her mistake, but it was too late to take it back. 

“I heard that the hanbok was prepared by you, Madam. Since it holds special meaning, I thought it would be best to keep it somewhere visible so you could store it separately.” 

Mrs. Choi’s expression remained gentle and composed, just as it always had been, without a trace of displeasure. 

“I suppose I made a mistake.” 

“No, no! It wasn’t a mistake!” 

I-ryeong waved her hands frantically, vehemently denying it as she explained further. 

She had assumed that placing such an infrequently worn garment like a hanbok in the temporary closet instead of the dressing room was a subtle cue to pay her respects. 

“I should have informed you beforehand, but it’s too late now.” 

“I’m sorry, Mrs. Choi.” 

“What do you have to apologize for, Madam? It’s my oversight.” 

Mrs. Choi’s kindly expression didn’t seem artificial or forced. 

And in her warm tone, I-ryeong felt an inexplicable lump form in her throat.