PROLOGUE

“If you ever have my child, I would personally kill it with my own hands.”

Lahart’s voice echoed. Iren forced a bitter smile. The only person who could say such words was none other than her husband.

The words were so shocking that even now, three days later, it felt like he was still whispering them right in front of her.

“It’s important. You’ll need a successor someday.”

“Is there any reason why the successor must come from you?”

“…Do you hate me that much?”

“Yes. With your weak body and that Phaeson blood, there’s no reason for you to bear my child.”

Lahart’s voice was chilling, his mouth twisted into a smirk. The wind blowing from the Hundred Year Mountain Range, the northern end and the roof of the world, seemed warmer than his voice.

“These are the hands that killed your father and brothers. Adding one more drop of blood now won’t change anything.”

“When you appeared at the gallows, I thought you had come to save me.”

Her whisper echoed in the solitary laboratory.

There was a time when she thought of him as the savior who pulled her out of hell.

“You really did save me. I didn’t understand it back then… It took me five years to realize.”

Why you saved my life and granted me the position of the duchess.

“You can never die without my permission.”

It was to drop me into hell with your own hands.

Iren opened the drawer attached to the desk she mainly used in the research laboratory. There were only two small bottles in the drawer where research materials were organized.

She took out the bottles and placed them on the desk.

One was a pure white concoction without a speck of dust, and the other was a pitch-black concoction that seemed to be infused with the deepest darkness.

The two concoctions shone in the glass bottle where they were mixed.

The effects of the two potions were as extreme as their colors. One was an antidote that could not only cure a poisoned body, but also save the life ruined by it. The other was a deadly poison that could temporarily stop the heart and induce a comatose state.

The two potions were the culmination of Iren’s efforts of research.

Iren picked up the bottle containing the poison. What was inside was poison, but to her, it was just like an antidote.

It was the only way to change her twisted and broken life, which was plunging her into an endless abyss.

With her eyes tightly closed, Iren touched her belly with the remaining hand that wasn’t holding a bottle.

She didn’t feel anything yet. It would be strange to feel something when her belly didn’t even have a bump yet.

But a small life was growing inside her.

As she thought so, she felt like warmth was being transmitted through her palm. Strange, but warm, and incredibly lovely.

“Don’t worry. I’ll protect you.”

Since Lahart declared that he would personally kill this child, it was no longer their child. It was solely Iren’s child.

Since her family had collapsed, she had been living as Lahart’s wife, with no desire for anything except completing the antidote. It was her duty, and the reason Lahart kept her alive.

She never coveted fancy dresses, beautiful jewels, or fine accessories. But now, she had one desire, something she wanted to achieve at all costs in her remaining life. A being she had to protect.

‘I want to be happy now. Is it okay for me to be happy?’

After taking the antidote, Lahart would live a new life. The violet scars covering half of his body would disappear, and he would no longer feel the excruciating pain that came and went.

Once the stigma of being cursed disappeared, a lady who wanted to marry him would surely appear.

For the both of us, my disappearance would be a good thing.

Most of all, Iren no longer wanted to live with Lahart.

“It will all be fine.”

Iren took one last look around the research lab. It was filled with neatly organized books, documents, and various herbs collected from everywhere.

Feeling both empty and refreshed, she put the antidote in the drawer and returned to her office. It was time for lunch, and she was sure that Lahart would send someone to her office to inquire about her absence.

“Now, let’s end this. This loveless marriage that only brings each other pain.”

Iren drank every drop of the liquid in the vial. It felt like her throat was burning. The scorching sensation spread from her throat to her entire body.

Then, a tremendous pain, as if a giant hand was squeezing her heart, shook her whole body.

“Ugh…!”

Though she tried to hold on, the pain was too much to bear.

In the end, Iren collapsed to the floor.

‘I’m going to lose consciousness soon.’

With the last of her strength, she smashed the vial against the desk leg. The shattered pieces turned into smoke and dispersed. It was an especially prepared magic vial that leaves no trace behind.

This death must not fail.

Irelaide Phaeson must die.

Only then could I escape from Lahart.

With that thought, Iren’s consciousness faded away.

* * *

At that moment, an unexplained sense of anxiety caused Lahart to turn his gaze to the sword hanging on the wall.

Amidst the noisy footsteps, the door suddenly swung open without a knock. The butler, who rarely lost his composure, looked distressed as he exclaimed,

“My lord, the lady…!”

“What about Iren?”

Contrary to his urgent arrival, the butler struggled to continue.

“I told you to bring her to me regardless of her condition.”

“My lord, that… How should I put it…”

“Speak directly.”

His anxiety surged. Lahart drew the sword from the wall and strapped it to his waist. It was his own way of trying to calm himself down.

The butler groaned, then spoke with a dark expression.

“The madam… has passed away.”

“What?”

“She collapsed in the study… She’s not breathing.”

Clang.

As Lahart reached for a sword from its sheath, his hand slipped.

Leaving the fallen sword behind, Lahart rushed to Iren’s laboratory.

* * *

“Is she really dead?”

Although her body was not as damaged as his, Iren was also not free from poison. Her body was marked with black, red, or purplish spots.

But Iren insisted she had been diligently taking her medicine. She was not a woman to lie.

He remembered that her complexion was not as good lately. The maids subtly complained that their mistress’s appetite had decreased, and the head maid even reported on it.

But Iren’s complexion had always been pale. And she wasn’t one to eat a lot to begin with.

It was all because of the history of the damn Phaeson family.

Could those have been signs of death?

Surely not.

“Yes… I’m sorry, Your Grace. Truly sorry.”

“Understood. You may leave now.”

The doctor left trembling. He was already the fifteenth doctor to come.

Lahart looked at Iren lying on the bed with a desolate gaze.

Are you dead? You, Irelaide? You left my side without my permission?

“This is a lie.”

Lahart staggered forward and touched Iren’s hand. It was cold and stiff. It felt harder than frozen clay.

Lahart actually didn’t remember anything. After hearing the butler’s words, he headed to Iren’s study and the last thing he remembered was seeing her sprawled on the floor.

When he came to his senses, he found himself urging a magician to cast a spell on her and calling for a doctor to confirm if she was really dead.

“Iren.”

No matter how many times he called, her tightly closed eyes wouldn’t open.

“Irelaide.”

Even when he bent her finger with force, it only lasted for a moment. Her finger, devoid of warmth, stiffly returned to its place.

“Irelaide Cardius.”

Their detailed observations varied slightly, but the doctors’ conclusions were all the same.

Poisoned.

To think that she who was born into the noble Phaeson family, who rose to the ranks of nobility with poison alone, had succumbed to poison.

Lahart burst into laughter.

“Haha…”

Could there be such a ridiculous death?

Stupid. Foolish. If she was going to die like this, why did she stubbornly indulge my whims to please me?

“Could you arrange a laboratory for me? I want to work on an antidote.”

“We’ll need to investigate in detail, but it seems that the Duchess has been poisoned.”

The doctor clearly said it. Iren died from poisoning.

“…Lab.”

There was a laboratory in the basement of the mansion where Iren researched antidotes. And it was none other than him to put it in there, to keep it out of sight.

Iren gathered various ingredients to create an antidote. Unlike other nobles, he didn’t hesitate to spare any expense.

“All poisons have an antidote.”

It was a phrase that pierced his ears like a nail. A phrase that used to irritate him with its faint hope now couldn’t be more welcome.

There might be an antidote in the laboratory that suited Iren.

Iren was already dead. Her heart had stopped, her breathing had ceased, and her blood had turned cold. Lahart, who had seen many dead on the battlefield, knew from the moment he saw her collapsed in the study.

But he couldn’t accept it. This was hers, the Cardius Ducal Castle. There was nothing Irelaide could do here without his permission.

Even if it meant death.

No, Irelaide Cardius was not supposed to die without his consent.

5 years. It had only been 5 years.

Lahart left the room with a cold expression. The butler and aide waiting in the corridor followed him.

* * *

At the entrance to the underground laboratory. There was a tightly closed door.

Lahart broke the door with his sword. The butler and aide, who followed him out of concern for the duke with his sword in hand and his eyes glowing, were terrified. But Lahart paid no attention.

The laboratory was empty.

Lahart opened the medicine cabinet that stood like a wall.

Empty. All empty.

Even the bookshelf where documents were supposed to be. Even the equipment that Iren had purchased instead of dresses and jewels.

Nowhere to be seen.

It was too tidy for a place where an antidote had been researched until yesterday.

The owner of this place knew the day of her death.

So you wanted to die without my knowledge, Irelaide. How dare you…

Thud—

The sound echoed alone in the cold, empty space where its owner had disappeared.

It was Lahart’s uncontrollable rage that made him slam his fist on the desk.

Lahart was not a person who expressed emotions in this way. He was ruthless and cruel enough to not even bat an eyelash after killing his own parents, the former Duke and Duchess.

What made him so angry was the brief letter placed next to the vial left alone.

It was Iren’s will.

[To Duke Cardius,

This is the antidote to relieve the poison that has afflicted you.

I sincerely hope that this medicine can bring you peace, Duke.

All the poisons, antidotes, ingredients, and records that I had for research have been disposed of, so please rest assured.

I would also appreciate it if my body could be disposed of without leaving any traces.

I am grateful for all the kindness you have shown me.

Irelaide Phaeson.]

In the end, Iren kept her promise. The promise to create an antidote for him.

And then she died. As if saying she wanted to rest now that her task was done, she even said to Lahart that she didn’t want to leave a body behind.

If that’s your wish, then it should be granted.

Lahart tucked the antidote and the letter close to his chest and ascended the stairs. He gestured for the waiting butler and issued an order.

“Irelaide Cardius will be laid to rest in the family grave.”

“I will make the arrangements.”

“Summon a mage. Instruct them to use magic to ensure that the body does not decay even after 200 years.”

“Understood.”

Irelaide Phaeson? What a joke.

As Irelaide Cardius, as the wife of Duke Cardius, she must remain by my side forever.

That includes the traces of poison she left in my body.