Chapter 11 – The Cheese, the Hamster, and the Mother-in-Law
When I entered the room, I remembered Tangent’s worried face.
She must’ve known this would happen the moment I received that letter from the North. She’d spent her life reading the moods of nobles — she could probably smell trouble coming before it arrived.
***
“Are you certain you’re fine with these terms?”
Cartiman’s sharp voice cut through the silence.
“If you can’t accept them, then there will be no marriage. Answer me.”
I could feel his eyes on me — cold, calculating.
For the longest time, I’d thought he was the hamster in the cage.
Turns out, I was the one behind the glass, and he was the one tapping on the bars to see how I’d react.
“Still under the illusion that I’d ever fall for you, huh?”
If this were the old Aileen — the one who’d written him love letters until her fingers bled — she would’ve burst into tears by now.
But that woman’s long gone.
These days, the only thing I cry over is a losing lottery ticket.
***
“I don’t care what you do,” I said flatly. “Just make sure the rumors about our marriage spread properly. I don’t want anyone talking behind my back when I get the mining rights.”
“You’re quite sharp,” he said. “Not even a little disappointed?”
“Why would I be? Expecting congratulations for a one-year play would be shameless, don’t you think?”
“Seems you know your place.”
“Of course. Being poor and clueless is a death sentence.”
He actually chuckled — barely.
“Keep that attitude.”
He handed me the pen.
“This version of you is far better than before.”
***
And just like that, with a few strokes of ink spelling Aileen Dante, I became a married woman.
There was no wedding, no priest, no audience.
In this world, a single signed document was all it took.
Romance? Zero. Bureaucracy? Also zero.
All that was left was work — monitoring the shipment of precious magical metals from the mines back to our estate.
And, unfortunately, getting familiar with the Duke’s mansion: checking my new room (which was his room), greeting the butler, and pretending to care about furniture placement.
It was tedious, boring, and not nearly as satisfying as counting my soon-to-be gold coins.
Outside, snow began to fall — my first day here, and already the first snow of the year.
They say if it rains or snows on your wedding day, your marriage will last.
Pretty, sure. But I wasn’t counting on it.
***
“I can’t stand this! I’m going to make it public!”
“Finally, your big day has come. Sorry I never paid your salary. Once I make money, I’ll add a bonus too.”
Tangent pouted.
“Excuse me?! You think I’m mad about that?!”
“Why, are you planning a coup to take my title or something? Bit ambitious, don’t you think?”
“Of course not! I’d never do that! I’m angry at this rotten Duke’s family — hoarding gold and jewels and still refusing to hold a proper wedding for you!”
Ah. That explained the frown.
“Don’t risk your career over this,” I said. “Instead, put that sharp memory to good use — find out where the bathrooms are.”
“Understood. I’ll locate the lavatories and the dining hall while I’m at it.”
“You’re the best, Tangent. I’ve known you five minutes and already you get me.”
She grinned, gave a dramatic bow, and marched off.
Honestly, it was touching — someone furious for my sake.
But no tears. Not this time. I was a cool, city woman now.
At least… that’s what I told myself until dinner.
***
“Oh my god, this is so good…”
Okay, I lied. One more round of tears.
The meat was heavenly — perfectly cooked, dripping with wine-red juice.
I actually cried a little.
How could someone eat like this every day and still have the personality of a brick?
At least I wasn’t paying for it. The “thrift points” system didn’t penalize me for someone else’s food, so I ate shamelessly.
Totally worth marrying him.
***
“Is it good?”
“—!”
Across the table sat her — the Duchess, Lady Lilac.
Her gaze dropped to my hand gripping the knife like I was about to duel the steak.
Her polite smile didn’t quite hide the fact that I was murdering table manners in front of her.
‘Why am I dining alone with my mother-in-law on my first day of marriage?!’
It felt less like dinner and more like an interrogation.
Everyone else was “busy,” apparently.
Which meant the only two people at the table were me… and the woman who probably wanted to strangle me.
“I thought I’d be eating alone,” she said smoothly. “I’m glad for the company. Why do you look so tense? Surely you didn’t think I’d join you?”
“Of course not, ma’am! This is your home, after all. It’d be unthinkable of me to assume otherwise.”
I forced my best polite smile.
She cut her steak with unnerving precision — like she was dissecting a frog.
Then she stopped.
“I’m glad you came.”
Her gaze lifted — sharp, assessing.
I felt like I was the one on the cutting board now.
“I’ve been very curious about you.”
“I’m afraid I’m rather boring,” I said quickly.
“Nonsense. For eight years, my son has flinched at the word ‘marriage.’ For the last three, he’s practically hissed whenever I said it aloud. Yet here you are — his wife. Tell me, what kind of spell did you cast on him?”
“If I could use magic, I’d be rich by now. Unfortunately, I can’t.”
“Then it must’ve been a miracle. Or perhaps… you’re a devil. Men are said to follow beautiful devils without question.”
“I’m not sure what you mean, ma’am.”
She lifted her fork.
“Let me give you an example. That salad bowl in front of you. When Cartiman was five, I tried everything to make him eat his greens. He’d eat anything — except cheese. Even now, he won’t touch it.”
“If he’s hungry enough, he’ll eat it.”
“Don’t be absurd. No noble child is ever allowed to starve.”
Ouch.
Point taken. Not a noble, got it.
“So… what are you getting at?”
“My point is this — you’re the cheese. The thing he swore he’d never eat. No matter how hungry he gets, he’d rather put down the fork than taste it. And yet… here you are. Be honest. You have a theory, don’t you?”
***
The atmosphere was heavy. My stomach was full, but my seat was getting uncomfortable.
I gulped down my juice instead of replying — freshly squeezed, thank goodness.
Finally, I said,
“I don’t know why he married me, truly. But there is one thing that struck me as strange.”
“Go on.”
“When he visited the Marquisate that day… he didn’t seem like a man renewing an engagement. He looked like someone coming to break it.”
After all, showing up without a single gift was rude — practically shouting I’m not here to court you.
“He must’ve planned to call it off,” I said. “But something changed his mind.”
***
“Interesting. And what made him change it?”
“I think you’re right. I’m the cheese — flavorless, unappealing cheese. He meant to throw me out, but then noticed something odd.”
Lilac’s eyebrow rose. “Odd?”
“It spoke,” I said simply.
“The cheese… spoke?”
“Yes. Maybe not literally, but enough to make him pause. A talking cheese. Weird, right? So instead of tossing it, he decided to keep it on the table — just to see what it’d say next.”
I shrugged. “That’s my theory.”
***
“I see…”
Lady Lilac looked down into her soup, her expression unreadable.
I slid the salad bowl toward her, ignoring etiquette for once.
“I know I’m not the daughter-in-law you wanted. I don’t expect love or wealth. I just needed a bit of help — that’s all.”
“I’ve heard,” she said. “You wanted access to a mine.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“I hear everything that happens in this estate. Don’t look so nervous. I’m not angry.”
Her tone softened — slightly.
“There are twenty-five mines in our territory,” she said.
“That’s… a lot.”
“Not really. Many are shut down to control market prices. Giving you one is hardly a sacrifice.”
That jerk.
Cartiman had made it sound like he was doing me a huge favor!
“Well, I understand now,” Lilac said at last. “You’re the dancing cheese. And Cartiman… is the hamster staring at it, intrigued.”
“Exactly!” I said brightly.
She chuckled — briefly. Then her tone shifted again, sharp as a knife.
“But my biggest complaint lies elsewhere.”
Her expression changed.
Oh no. Was I about to be kicked out already?
“Why did you say this isn’t your home?” she asked suddenly.
“P-pardon?”
“You told me earlier, ‘This isn’t my house, it’s the Duke’s.’ Why would you say that? You’re married. This is your home now. Or do you have another one?”
“Well, the Dante Marquisate still—”
“It’s bankrupt.”
“…”
“So you’ll dine with us often from now on.”
What.
Excuse me?
Was this woman… inviting me to dinner?
Or was it a threat disguised as hospitality?
Either way, my fork froze mid-air as one thought echoed in my head:
“This mother-in-law… is going to be a handful.”
