Chapter 26
We were going to meet my mother-in-law—the Grand Duchess—just like that?
Honestly, I didn’t want to.
First, the idea of meeting my future husband’s mother was terrifying on its own.
Second, I still remembered how she’d looked at me with dislike on the day of my engagement to Arnold.
Third, even though I sent her and the Grand Duke a New Year’s card every year after that engagement, not once did I ever get a reply.
Fourth, she never called me over, never asked to see me—and not even at Arnold’s funeral did we cross paths. She had clearly avoided me.
To her, I was already the unwanted fiancée of her second son. And now, she’d probably think I was scheming to marry her first son instead—and even trying to bring a strange child into the Glentino family! And all this not long after Arnold’s death.
Disaster. Everything about this meeting was against me.
Still, I nodded quickly.
“Alright. Let’s go see the Grand Duchess.”
“You don’t really want to, do you? Then instead, I can—wait, what?” Owen paused, surprised. “You’re really okay with this?”
“What choice do I have? Like you said, I’ll have to meet her sooner or later anyway.”
The sooner it was done, the better for me.
Besides, wasn’t this a cheap price to pay for winning the most handsome man in the empire? A bargain, if you thought about it.
Owen still looked stunned.
“W-well, I suppose that’s true.”
“Then let’s leave tomorrow. We should also tell Arne. He must be awake from his nap by now.” I stood up quickly.
“Yes, let’s go together.”
Actually, I had some confidence. No matter how much the Grand Duchess disliked me, she couldn’t stop the marriage. As for registering Arne into the Glentino family, Owen’s authority as duke would be enough.
So this wasn’t really about asking permission. It was more like going to ask for forgiveness. A thought that reminded me a little of what Owen himself often did—but I shook my head.
And besides, if she saw Arne—such an adorable child—her heart would soften.
…Or would she hate him even more if she believed he was my son?
At least she wouldn’t imprison me or try to assassinate me like Leonie, right?
A creeping unease rose inside me.
On our way out of the sitting room, I called to Owen.
“Owen.”
“Yes, Sophia?”
“You’d better play your role as husband properly this time.”
Understanding me in his own way, he replied confidently,
“Don’t worry. I’ll bring some guards with us.”
Good grief! The fact that we even needed guards just to meet his mother was what worried me!
I stood with a heavy heart in front of Arne’s bedroom door. Owen and I planned to explain everything to him carefully:
That I would become his mother, that Owen would be his father, that we would soon marry, and that we were going to ask Owen’s mother for her blessing. Also, that legally he would be registered as the youngest son of House Glentino.
We wouldn’t use difficult words, but I worried how much Arne could really understand.
Knock, knock.
“Who is it?” came his voice from inside. Ah, so he was already awake.
I took a deep breath.
“Arne, can we come in for a moment?”
The next thing I heard was the patter of small feet. Arne opened the door himself, clutching Popo tightly in his arms.
I hesitated, lost in thought, and Arne just stood there staring at me. When I finally looked down at him, I saw tears glistening in his eyes.
Startled, I bent down and touched his shoulders.
“Arne, what’s wrong? Did someone upset you?”
As I tried to wipe his tears, he began crying harder. After a while, through hiccups and sobs, he finally whispered:
“Please… don’t abandon me, Mom…”
My heart ached.
This angelic child, crying like that, broke me. I hugged him tightly.
“Arne, of course I’d never do that. Who told you something like that?”
Still sniffling, he said in his little nasal voice,
“But… but… Mom’s face looked so strange.”
“My face? How?”
“Like a judge at a cute pig contest, looking at a piglet that barely lost.”
Oh dear.
I pulled him into another hug. But then he let out a little piglet snort, so I quickly loosened my hold.
“You silly boy. How could such a beautiful piglet lose? And even if you did, it wouldn’t matter. You don’t need anyone else’s approval. You already shine like a jewel, just by being you.”
I lifted him easily onto the bed. He was so light, far too thin for a boy his age. I’d have to fatten him up with food later.
But first, there was something I needed to do.
With all the chaos—the funeral, Owen’s sudden proposal, my leaving the marquess’s house—I had never actually introduced myself to Arne properly.
Thinking back, maybe fate had tied us together. The first time I met him at Arnold’s funeral, he’d called me “pretty sister.” Who would have thought he’d end up becoming my son?
As Owen said, life’s best surprises often came this way.
Arne had calmed down a little, so I took his small hand, looked into his eyes, and said,
“Arne, hello. My name is Sophia ta Bartoli.”
His eyes went wide, but he sat quietly, repeating my name under his breath as if memorizing it.
Owen, catching on, came to stand beside me.
“I’m your Aunt Ellie’s big sister. And I’m so happy you came into my life. I’ve never been a mom before, so I might not be perfect—but I promise I’ll care for you and love you.”
Arne’s eyes widened even more. I waited nervously for his response.
Finally, in a trembling voice, he asked,
“Even if I’m… stupid? Even if I’m useless?”
His words made my throat tighten.
It reminded me of my past life. Back then, I believed I had to prove myself valuable in order to earn my father’s love—that I was unworthy of affection otherwise. I had even convinced myself I couldn’t love myself.
But that was wrong.
I squeezed Arne’s hand and said firmly,
“Family isn’t about being useful. Just existing, just being by each other’s side, makes you precious. Family is the one group of people in this world who will always be on your side. How could you not be important?”
His green eyes sparkled at my words.
I realized I was saying this to myself as much as to him. In this new life, I had chosen a new family—my own family.
Tears pricked at my eyes, so I quickly tugged Owen closer.
“And this is the man who’ll be your father. Owen, introduce yourself.”
Obediently, he spoke.
“Hello, Arne. I’m Owen ta Glentino. We’ve seen each other often, haven’t we?”
I nudged him, and he bent down so his eyes met Arne’s.
Arne tilted his head and asked innocently,
“What is a father?”
Owen smiled softly.
“He’s someone who loves your mother. And of course, he also loves his children. As your father, I promise to cherish and love you together with your mom. Because now… we’re family.”
I’d expected him to brush it off, but instead, his words were surprisingly warm.
Arne nodded, his eyes shining.
He was like me—someone who had never really known what a father was. But now, he’d learn.
And as proof, he looked at us both and said brightly,
“Then I’ll cherish and love Mom and Dad too. Please take care of me, Mom, Dad.”
