Chapter : 03
What… was that?
Thinking she must have imagined it, Iona rubbed her eyes and looked again, but the words had vanished.
She was certain there had been some kind of translucent golden panel decorated with ornate patterns.
And there had definitely been writing on it.
‘Did I finally lose my mind because this feels too satisfying?’
She had genuinely wanted to smash that damned Saintess statue to pieces.
“Have you truly gone insane? How could you disgrace yourself like this in front of the Saintess?”
Her palms burned where the axe handle had scraped against them.
Felix paid no attention whatsoever to the state of her hands. He focused solely on wrenching the hatchet away from her.
The rough wood handle scraped painfully across her tender skin once more.
“Are you alright, Saintess?”
“I-I’m fine. But I think the madam’s mental state may be… unstable.”
Biting down hard on her lower lip from the stinging pain, Iona waited.
The instant Felix turned his back on her to speak to the Saintess—
She hurled herself bodily at the statue.
“—!”
Before Felix, who had sensed something wrong, could stop her, the Saintess statue tilted dangerously—
And toppled over.
Crash!
The statue shattered spectacularly, exploding into fragments that scattered all over the ridiculous garden.
Her hair had come loose. Sweat covered her skin. She was breathing hard.
But inside?
Inside, she felt refreshed.
“Yes. That’s more like it.”
Muttering coldly, she whipped around to glare at the speechless Felix.
There was no point asking if he knew what day it was.
No point asking whether he understood emotional cheating was still cheating.
There was no need for any of it.
They had been married for years. Did he think she had never once tried to talk things out?
‘Why should I waste my breath talking to a bastard who never listens anyway?’
Conversation was something you had with people.
“Saintess, are you hurt?!”
After glaring at Iona as though he wanted to kill her, Felix finally forced himself to calm down and focused on comforting the Saintess instead.
Iona had expected exactly that.
With a mocking snort, she turned away.
The hatchet had been taken from her, but her sense of victory overflowed.
Besides—
She still had both hands, didn’t she?
“M-My lady?”
“My lady, why are you acting like— Eek!”
“Kyaaaaah!”
Crash! Smash! Bang! CRAAAASH!!!
‘You told me that if I was going to act crazy, I should do it properly?’
Fine.
Then she would completely destroy this place.
This damned household!
“IS IT! A CRIME! THAT I’M PRETTY?!!!”
Iona screamed at the top of her lungs as she hurled a painting from the hallway wall.
Her married life had been hellish.
Not a single person bearing the Teresia name had liked her.
They criticized everything—what she ate, what she wore, how she walked, even the way she breathed.
Even her beauty had been treated like a sin!
Her mother-in-law forbade her from using perfume.
Forbidden from buying new dresses.
Forbidden from wearing clothes adorned with jewels.
Forbidden even from applying lipstick.
They only seemed satisfied if she remained plain-faced in outdated, shabby dresses.
Iona, who had spent her entire life as her father’s doll, had always been lavishly dressed since birth.
Frugality had been an utterly foreign concept to her.
But even so, she had tried to adapt somehow.
‘I endured everything.’
They used frugality as an excuse to barely give her any allowance.
They used abstinence as an excuse to starve her whenever they pleased.
‘Because I had nowhere else to go.’
If she couldn’t be happy at her family home anyway, she had thought she should at least endure things here.
‘But why? Why did I have to endure it?’
If the only thing waiting for her in the end was such a miserable death.
“What in the world has happened here?!”
Hair completely disheveled and breathing heavily like a madwoman, Iona slowly turned around with wild eyes.
Leading a crowd of frightened servants was the true ruler of this estate—
Griselda Teresia.
“I thought perhaps you had finally learned your place lately, but this is exactly why lowborn trash who worship Isis are hopeless. Had it not been for His Majesty the Emperor’s orders, my son would never have married something so beneath him!”
“Ha.”
“Just look at what you’ve done! What kind of outrageous behavior is this?!”
Griselda pointed accusingly at her, face flushed with fury.
Since she was already tired, Iona calmly took the opportunity to catch her breath and casually cleaned her ear with her pinky finger.
“Y-you insolent little—! Bring me a cane immediately. I’ll teach her a proper lesson myself!”
Griselda Teresia wore a dark dress buttoned tightly up to the neck, her silver hair pinned up without a single strand loose.
Its style and length looked so outdated it might have been fashionable twenty years ago.
But Griselda firmly believed that thrift and modesty were life’s greatest virtues according to Baldur’s teachings.
She genuinely believed her appearance was elegant.
And that simplicity itself was beauty.
‘She’s so old-fashioned she probably doesn’t even realize how society views the Teresia family.’
Being unfashionable wasn’t the only issue.
Among nobles, the Teresia family was quietly mocked for lacking refinement.
People called them misers.
‘And naturally… I was the one forced to endure those sneers.’
After all, no one dared speak badly in front of Griselda herself.
‘But seriously, isn’t this unfair? They called me extravagant and wasteful with money, yet they also mocked the Teresias for being cheap. Which is it?’
Though honestly, truth didn’t matter.
People just wanted an excuse to criticize someone.
Meanwhile, Griselda continued glaring at Iona as though searching for faults.
‘She wastes money without a second thought!’
To Griselda, everything about Iona looked excessively luxurious.
‘As expected of someone born vulgar.’
Just look at that blonde hair.
Even the color lacked modesty and grace.
Despite reducing Iona’s household budget to teach her frugality, her hair still gleamed beautifully every single time.
Was she spending all her money on expensive oils?
And her skin—how much had she spent to make it shine like that?
Griselda had even forbidden her from using cosmetics.
“Teresia Dowager Madam.”
“What?”
The title made Griselda doubt her own ears.
Not “Mother.”
Not even “Madam.”
But “Dowager Madam Teresia.”
A title that subtly implied Griselda should no longer be acting like the mistress of the household.
Naturally, she was deeply offended.
“Who exactly do you think you are, talking about disciplining someone with a cane?”
“And what gives you the confidence to speak so boldly?”
Until yesterday, Iona would lower her gaze the moment their eyes met.
Griselda had treated her like she barely existed.
But now?
Now Iona stood tall with her back straight and chin lifted proudly.
Her eyes even gleamed wildly.
“As far as I know, I am the mistress of this estate. Or perhaps you married my husband instead, Dowager Madam?”
“What nonsense are you spouting?! How dare you say such a thing!”
“Oh? It’s just that you act so confidently while trying to control me that I thought perhaps I was the mistress interfering in your passionate relationship with my husband.”
“Disgusting! Don’t say such revolting things! My son—my son would never do something like that!”
Griselda recoiled in horror.
The maids stood frozen between the explosive clash of the elder and younger mistresses.
Should they bring the cane?
Or not?
The hesitation of servants who normally obeyed instantly made Griselda inwardly panic.
And Iona merely smirked because this, too, was exactly what she had expected.
‘Like master, like servants. They’re all cowards who only test the waters and pick easy targets.’
There was a reason Iona was causing this much chaos.
If you wanted to overturn a household, you couldn’t do it halfway.
You had to go all the way.
Because nobody wanted to provoke a truly rabid beast.
And besides—
This was a dream, wasn’t it?
‘Anyway, it’s a dream. Whatever this is, it has to be a dream.’
That was the conclusion she settled on.
“Bring the cane at once! I think she’s truly lost her mind!”
“Go ahead and bring it. I’ll show you a hell beyond your imagination. I can make people like you beg me to kill them.”
While Griselda shouted with veins bulging in her neck, Iona spoke calmly and smiled sweetly.
“You called me a villainess, didn’t you? A luxurious, frivolous, wicked worshipper of Isis. You repeated it so often that now I’m thinking maybe I really should become exactly that.”
The maids, too terrified to even breathe properly, exchanged nervous glances and subtly tried pushing the task onto one another.
‘The younger madam has completely snapped.’
‘Well… she had reasons to.’
‘You know the rumors from before her marriage, right? That noble lady who rivaled her in high society disappeared suddenly and was later found dead downstream in the river. They say the younger madam arranged it.’
‘That’s terrifying. What if we end up like that?’
Certainly, the punishment from the elder madam was frightening too.
But at worst it would mean skipping dinner, writing reflection letters, and being locked in the prayer room to repent.
‘But the younger madam? There’s no telling what she might do.’
After making their calculations, none of the maids moved.
Griselda exploded in fury.
Iona crossed her arms and leaned casually to one side.
A thoroughly improper posture.
One Griselda absolutely despised.
“Mother, these days you should be more careful around your daughter-in-law.”
“…!”
“You really should’ve known when to stop.”
