Mother-in-Law Refuses to Regress! (7 Chapters Left to Complete) - Chapter 8

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Guinevere resolved that in this life, she would absolutely never teach William magic again.

If he didn’t know magic in the first place, he wouldn’t have used time regression magic at all.

“Don’t get your hopes up for no reason. Just go quietly to the Knight Department and learn swordsmanship.”

“Mother, if that’s the case, I’d rather learn alchemy myself.”

“Aren’t you perfectly capable of self-studying alchemy anyway?”

At that, William’s face showed clear surprise—he hadn’t expected Guinevere to know.

‘Has he only just started self-studying alchemy at this point in time?’

Even so, the barrier he’d set up in the mouse hole was already of exceptional quality.

“At your current level, you’d just skip grades and graduate early if you went to the academy—so why bother? Keep studying alchemy on your own like now, and train as a knight. Graduate as valedictorian.”

“…….”

“You’re not going to tell me you can’t do it, are you?”

“No.”

William felt utterly bewildered—he’d assumed his mother would insist he apply to the Magic Department without fail.

She’d strongly urged him toward the Knight Department, yet she hadn’t dismissed alchemy either.

For the first time, he felt as though his mother had truly acknowledged him.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Oh, it’s nothing… I’ll just… go to the Knight Department then…”

“William, that’s great! We’ll both become knights together!”

Larisa beamed and tugged at William’s hand, then grabbed Guinevere’s with her other hand and declared,

“I’ll work hard and become a knight who protects Mother!”

‘So this is why everyone says “Daughter, daughter…”’

Guinevere couldn’t help but smile contentedly.

After all, William had never been even remotely adorable since birth. This was the first time she’d seen such a childlike child.

*

On his way back to his room, William still felt dazed. Guinevere’s words kept echoing in his mind.

“At your current level, you’d just skip grades and graduate early if you went to the academy—so why bother?”

Not only did his mother know he’d been secretly studying alchemy—she’d even judged his skill level. It was quite a shock.

Guinevere Rodante was a woman who showed not a shred of interest in her children. That was the public perception, and he’d believed it too.

‘Maybe she’s not quite that indifferent after all… She probably cares, since I’m her only son.’

Feeling oddly flustered, William scratched his head. Though he’d been pressured into aiming for the Knight Department, it was still a hundred—no, a thousand—times better than being forced into the Magic Department.

“William will definitely look amazing as a knight!”

“Really?”

“Of course! Yap, yap!”

Larisa picked up a twig and pretended to swing a sword through the air. Her movements were clumsy, but utterly adorable.

“You’d be amazing as a knight too, Lara.”

William wiped his nose as he spoke—he’d just used her nickname for the first time.

Everyone and their dog—even the boss of a back-alley pickpocket gang—called Larisa “Lara,” so wasn’t it ridiculous that he’d been the only one not using it?

“Huh? What did you just say?”

“Hm?”

“Did you just call me Lara?”

“Well… um, yeah?”

Larisa clapped her hands together and exclaimed,

“Wow! Does this mean we’re getting closer now?”

‘We weren’t close before?’

William felt hurt.

“Hey, can I call you by a nickname too, then?”

“……Sure.”

His delayed response was simply because nobody had ever used a nickname for him before.

William felt as though this little girl, Larisa, was completely reshaping his life.

“Then I’ll call you Willi!”

Trending

“Why? Most people usually call guys Bill or Liam, right?”

“But Willi is way, way cuter!”

Larisa declared confidently. But when she saw William’s expression, she sensed he wasn’t entirely pleased. She whispered carefully,

“I’ll call you William in front of others. Willi can be our secret nickname—just for us, okay?”

William grinned broadly and replied,

“Fine.”

The thought of others calling him “Willi” made him want to punch someone immediately—but what did it matter what Larisa called him when they were alone?

William didn’t care at all.

Then, with a start, his expression hardened.

‘…Wait, isn’t this dangerous? She’s only seven!’

Why on earth had he casually imagined being alone with a seven-year-old child?

William was overcome with self-loathing.

‘Get a grip, you idiot. Larisa’s seven! She’s a tiny, precious child you’re supposed to protect!’

Desperate to avoid spiraling into self-hatred, he shifted blame squarely onto Guinevere.

‘This is all Mother’s fault! Why did she have to bring her here saying we’d get married!’

If Guinevere hadn’t said that, Larisa would’ve remained nothing more than a grubby pickpocket kid from the slums to him.

Therefore, this absurd notion was entirely Guinevere’s doing—and he convinced himself of it.

*

Larisa pressed the heirloom she’d reclaimed from Jeje. The portrait inside the locket looked exactly like her mother.

“Mom…”

I miss you.

She knew the person in the portrait wasn’t actually her mother.

Unlike her mother’s tousled white hair, the woman in the portrait looked like nobility. Her eye color was different too—her mother had the same red eyes as Larisa, but the woman in the portrait had green ones.

Still, whenever Larisa missed her mother, she’d stare at the portrait inside the locket.

‘She must be Mom’s mother—my grandmother.’

Her mother had never sold this locket, no matter how hard or impoverished life became.

She hadn’t kept it pressed constantly to her chest, but she’d never sold it—not even when both of them went hungry. That alone proved how precious it was.

Thus, Larisa had hidden the heirloom in a secret family spot known to no one.

Well, technically not “no one”—she had once told Jeje, who was like family to her.

At only seven years old, Larisa had already grasped a harsh truth from this incident:

‘The things that truly matter must never be revealed to anyone.’

Larisa put the locket around her neck and made a firm resolution.

Then her mother’s voice echoed in her mind:

“Larisa, make a good impression on Lady Guinevere. But don’t just blindly obey. Always listen to the voice in your heart, and strive to live the life you truly want.”

Until her very last moment, her mother had worried only about Larisa. Larisa vowed to honor her mother’s final wish.

“The life I truly want… Then I need to find out what the price Lady Guinevere mentioned really is! If it’s something like my heart, that’d be terrible!”

Larisa marched briskly to find Guinevere. She knocked decisively on the door to Guinevere’s laboratory and called out loudly,

“Mother! It’s me—Larisa! I’m here!”

“What… Larisa?”

Guinevere opened the door, looking utterly baffled.

Larisa didn’t know it, but there was an unspoken rule in Guinevere’s mansion: anyone who disturbed her research would never leave on their own two feet.

‘But tossing Larisa—who doesn’t even know levitation magic—out the window would be too cruel.’

“Why are you here?”

“Mother, thank you so much for feeding me and giving me a place to sleep all this time. I’ll repay this kindness someday!”

Guinevere smiled warmly and said,

“That’s what I like to hear.”

“So I’ll be leaving now.”

“What?”

“I’m going back home.”

Guinevere stared blankly and asked,

ads

“What? No, why?”

“I’m afraid if I keep owing you, I won’t be able to repay it.”

Larisa used debt as an excuse, but it held some truth. Considering all the clothes, meals, and lodging she’d received, she might never repay it—even as an adult.

Guinevere quickly replied,

“Wait—debt? I brought you here because of a promise I made with your mother. You’re to remain under my protection until you come of age.”

“But you never told me what the price was!”

‘Oh dear… What kind of child is this…?’

Could this child possibly also possess those missing fifty years of memories? Was that why she acted so unlike a normal child? Guinevere briefly entertained the absurd thought before recalling that even William—the one who’d actually turned back time—had lost all his memories.

Without immense magical power like her own to shield the mind, such a thing was impossible. Guinevere sighed and said,

“The price is really nothing much. It’s something you can easily handle.”

“Then please tell me.”

“……”

“I said, please tell me!”

“…It’s… just that…”

Guinevere bit her lip. The deeper her hesitation grew, the more stubbornly Larisa clenched her own jaw.

Larisa hadn’t come here just to recklessly leave home. She’d come because she couldn’t stop wondering—she needed to confirm what that “price” truly was.

She was certain, deep down, that the agreement between them was anything but ordinary.

“If you won’t tell me, I’ll just leave.”

‘I see… I have no choice but to tell her.’

Guinevere’s expression hardened. Normally an icy beauty, her face now took on an ominous cast—but she spoke with utmost seriousness.

“The price… is that you bear my son’s child.”

Just as expected—an extraordinary price indeed. Larisa asked fearfully,

“W-what will you do with the child?”

Instantly, all sorts of rumors flooded her mind—ripping out a newborn’s heart… But then she also recalled William’s words: that a crooked old woman held more magic than a baby.

Gradually, her fear began to fade. She gathered her courage and met Guinevere’s gaze—only to find the woman looking at her with tender, wistful eyes as she spoke softly,

“That child will be happier than anyone else in the world.”

Her voice was firm yet gentle.

“So happy they’ll never wish to turn back time, even for a single moment—because they’ll be my grandchild, Guinevere Rodante’s grandchild.”

Larisa felt the sincerity in Guinevere’s words. But something still puzzled her…

“But… why me, of all people…?”

“Because you and William are destined for each other.”

Had she read the stars or something? Larisa swallowed hard.

“Destiny?”

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