A fork sank deep into the rich chocolate cake.

Another piece of that dark, sinful confection disappeared into a pretty mouth.

Again.

And again.

And again.

For an entire hour.

Hannah, the maid who had brought the cake, looked as pale as a condemned prisoner awaiting execution.

‘Well, it’s not surprising she’s terrified.’

The Marquis, Dolores’s father, was very strict about her keeping her figure.

Dolores treated her body with the severity of a prison warden.

She resisted her favorite sweets.

Resisted them.

And resisted them again.

Eventually, she started forcing her fingers down her throat to make herself vomit.

All because she was afraid that Adrian’s love would fade.

She was afraid he would leave her for someone younger with firmer skin and never come back.

It was absurd.

‘Just wait and see.’

Thunk.

The sharp fork stabbed viciously into the dark cake.

Eyes blazing, Dolores swallowed another mouthful of its wicked sweetness.

‘This time, I’ll live differently.’

Her father, who had never cared whether she suffered in her marriage.

Her brother, who had drained her private funds dry without a shred of guilt.

Thunk!

The fork tore through the cake again, as though disemboweling a corpse.

‘I’ll leave them with nothing.’

‘Even if I have to use all the knowledge I possess.’

Although she had been treated little better than a decorative empress, she knew what would happen over the next twenty years.

But were her family the only ones who deserved to be punished in this life?

No — the source of all her misery was someone else entirely.

‘Adrian.’

Screeech.

The fork scraped across the plate, producing an unpleasant sound that echoed through the room.

This was the man she had believed would be her lifelong companion: The beautiful crown prince. The pride and future of the Empire.

But beneath the surface, he was so indulgent, selfish and cruel as to mock her infertility.

‘And without my consent, he took the bastard child he had with Angelica…’

The memory resurfaced.

She remembered Adrian placing a blonde-haired baby, who looked exactly like him, into her arms.

The moment flashed before her eyes.

Clatter!

Dolores flung the fork away.

“Ugh…!”

“My lady?!”

The maids cried out in alarm, but Dolores had already started running towards the bathroom.

Her esophagus convulsed violently.

Her vision turned blindingly white.

Cold sweat streamed down her body as though she were riding a runaway horse.

Her shoulders trembled uncontrollably.

“Urgh…! Ugh…!”

In the end, she vomited up nearly half the cake she had eaten.

‘I’m pathetic.’

‘Getting shaken by old memories like this.’

The people who had ruined her life were perfectly fine.

So why was she the one left broken?

‘I still have a long way to go.’

Never again would she sink to such a miserable depth.

This time, Dolores Rochester would protect her elegance and dignity until the very end.

‘And for that…’

As she rinsed her mouth out, Dolores remembered the idea that had occurred to her while she was eating the cake.

But was it even possible?

Perhaps not.

Still, she had no other options.

Before marriage, a woman like her could not even dream of amassing her own fortune.

No matter how much she hated it, there was only one path open to her.

‘Grand Duke Lesrexion.’

She would have to seek that man’s help.

‘Even before my marriage, we never got along.’

Their relationship remained terrible throughout her time as empress.

He had always seen her as a pathetic woman clinging desperately to a throne that was empty.

Unsurprisingly, she had grown to hate him.

‘But hating him was strangely refreshing.’

Hating her husband’s mistresses also meant hating Adrian.

It meant confronting the misery of her own situation.

A bottomless despair.

‘But hating the Grand Duke was simple.’

Direct.

Straightforward.

After exchanging sharp words and glaring at each other, she often felt strangely relieved.

It was as though a weight had been lifted from her chest.

‘But there’s one thing that’s different now…’

The difference now was that Dolores knew exactly what kind of proposal would pique the man’s interest.

She also knew how to make it happen.

She turned to look at the fidgeting maid.

“Hannah, where are Father and my brother?”

“They’ve both gone out to inspect the Gilbert Territory.”

“Ah. So it’s today.”

At the mention of that cursed territory, a faint crease appeared between Dolores’s brows.

The Gilbert Territory had been part of her late mother’s dowry.

‘And it should have been entirely mine.’

In the Albion Empire, women had virtually no means of earning money independently.

This is why it became traditional for noblewomen to inherit land as part of their dowries.

However, if the eldest son of the family needed it, it was considered a daughter’s duty to surrender the land.

“Hah.”

The thought of how humiliatingly she had groveled to Adrian over that territory made her blood boil.

Simply beating her gambling-addicted brother for wasting it would not have been enough.

This time, she was determined to reclaim it.

‘Still, this is the perfect opportunity.’

She had to meet the man before her father and brother returned.

Gilbert Territory was not far away.

They would probably be back by evening.

She had very little time.

“Hannah, bring me my coat. I’m leaving immediately.”

“Y-Your coat? At a time like this? Where are you going?”

“I need to visit the chapel on Howard Street.”

“Pardon…? But today isn’t even a day of worship.”

“I wish to offer a prayer of gratitude for my upcoming marriage.”

Dolores answered with a beautiful smile.

‘As if.’

She had been an atheist ever since her years as Empress.

During her time as the infertile Crown Princess, she prayed every day.

Not once did any god answer her prayers.

‘Of course, if there truly is a being responsible for giving me a second life, I’d gladly kneel at their feet in gratitude.’

She neglected to mention that the Lancaster Estate was located right next to the chapel.

A few hours later, Dolores burst into the Grand Duke’s residence, kicking the door open — a rather impolite thing to do.

***

And so, after Dolores proposed a deal involving the Alaister Territory—Lesrexion curled his lips into a fierce smile.

“Lady Dolly. I thought you were merely a pretty doll, just as your nickname suggests… but it seems you possess quite the imagination.”

The beautiful face before him wavered slightly.

Dolores Rochester.

The woman who always smiled.

At social gatherings.

She stood beside his distinguished Crown Prince brother.

Everywhere.

Always smiling.

And every time he saw that smile, he felt a twinge of unease.

‘Even when we were children…’

It had been that way ever since he was first introduced to her as his brother’s fiancée.

Seeing her smile irritated him more than rolling around the harsh frontiers of the Empire at the Emperor’s command.

It was an artificial smile.

A manufactured expression.

Now, seeing the corners of that woman’s lips tremble pleased him immensely.

Crossing his arms, Lesrexion tilted his head with interest.

‘Hmm. Why is this woman suddenly using her head?’

The Dolores he had known since childhood…

‘She may be the most beautiful woman in Albion’s social circles.’

The Empire’s Diamond was never renowned for her intellect.

And yet—

Somehow, Dolores had correctly guessed the one thing he had secretly coveted for years.

The Alaister Territory.

The land that bore half of his bloodline.

For a moment, the smile faltered on Dolores’s lips.

Then, as though nothing had happened, she quickly regained her composure, her smile returning with it.

Seeing her recover so easily stirred something dark within Lesrexion.

‘I’d like to shatter that expression again.’

“Since you’ve already mocked it as imagination, I’ll make sure to see that imagination through to the end.”

“By all means, Lady Dolly.”

“Even though Your Highness behaves like a wastrel who knows nothing of proper etiquette, His Majesty remains remarkably lenient toward you—”

“Hah. Are you insulting me to my face now?”

“That’s because you’ve earned countless military achievements along the frontier. For the honor of the Imperial Family.”

At this, Lesrexion simply shrugged his broad shoulders.

His fate as the second prince had been sealed from the moment of his birth.

The precious, noble Adrian had to stay safe in the capital.

After all, if the esteemed crown prince were to receive so much as a scratch, it would be as though the world itself were coming to an end.

While Adrian was kept safe behind palace walls, Lesrexion spent his life wandering the borderlands.

That was simply how things had always been.

But the mocking look in his eyes vanished the moment she spoke again.

A chill settled over his expression as her next words reached him.

“Yet His Majesty has never once mentioned granting you the Alaister Territory as your reward.”

“…”

“Because His Majesty is afraid. If he grants you that land, he cannot predict how its people will react.”

Lesrexion was the son of Princess Juliana.

He was the last surviving member of the royal family of Alaister.

From a political perspective, allowing him to govern the territory would not have been a bad decision.

But would the former citizens of the fallen kingdom remain obedient?

Might they not rally behind their rightful heir and strive to regain their independence?

“So please help me break off my engagement to Crown Prince Adrian, Your Highness.”

In exchange, she would tell him how to obtain the Alaister Territory.

And Lesrexion…

“Haha.”

He rose from his seat and laughed dryly.

He walked towards Dolores in a slow and deliberate manner.

It was the same predatory presence that had prompted his aides to complain.

“At least make some noise when you’re approaching. You stalk around like a beast hunting prey in the dark.”

Before Dolores could react, he gently lifted her chin.

“Lady Dolly.”

“Mm… Grand Duke.”

“You’re willing to slander the man you’re about to marry? It seems you have no concern for the consequences.”

Even to his own ears, his voice sounded dangerously low.

Sinister.

The sight of Dolores’s flawless face turning even paler pleased him immensely.

‘How adorable.’

‘Look at her. She’s frightened by the very words she spoke herself.’

Did she really not understand why he was known as the Beast of Albion?

She had seen the chaos he caused in the Imperial Palace first-hand when he was fifteen.

And yet she still dared to provoke him.

The way she tried to push his hand away with her fan was absurdly amusing, too.

“Remove your hand. It’s improper.”

“Hmph.”

Lesrexion slowly withdrew it.

Spilling the blood of an unarmed woman would only have dirtied his hands.

However, if it had happened on the frontier, it would have been a different story.

Instead, he gestured towards the drawing room door with exaggerated courtesy.

“Very well, Lady Dolly, future author of grand fantasies. Thank you for the delightful conversation, but I’d appreciate it if you left now.”

“But you haven’t forgotten that we’ll be seeing each other again at Madame Loire’s soirée, have you?”

“Ah. Tch.”

Mentioning her name caused him to click his tongue involuntarily.

Madame Loire was the Emperor’s long-term mistress.

She had maintained her position through the reigns of two empresses, and her title carried enough influence that even the Emperor’s sons could not afford to disregard her.

For Lesrexion, however, such gatherings were especially intolerable.

An outcast among the nobility, he was never welcome in high society.

Every invitation felt less like a courtesy and more like a reminder of exactly where he stood.

“I’ll be expecting a different answer then, Your Highness.”

Yet somehow, Dolores’s calm and utterly shameless response irritated him far more than the upcoming soirée ever could.

Hadn’t frightening her earlier been enough?

“Listen here, Dolores Rochester. While I’m still being polite—”

“483 Howard Street.”

“…!”

The irritation simmering within him vanished in an instant.

Lesrexion’s jaw muscles tightened.

It was an attack he had never seen coming.

Although he quickly regained control of his expression, Dolores’s green eyes gleamed with triumph.

If he tried to stop her now, she would just find another way to attack.

After all, it was always the one with something to lose who made the first move.

Dolores had already turned halfway towards the door when she looked back and smiled.

Lesrexion smiled as well.

To an outside observer, it might have seemed like a pleasant exchange.

But beneath those smiles, neither of them lowered their guard for even a moment.

Yet their eyes were locked on each other like drawn bayonets, sharp with murderous intent.

“I would strongly recommend tightening your security, Your Highness. This spring is proving to be quite dry.”

“Dolores Rochester. I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“I’ll tell you how I found out at the party.”

With effortless grace, Dolores curtsied slightly.

She was the very image of perfection.

The flawless elegance expected of the Porcelain Doll of High Society.

“I wish Your Highness a peaceful day.”

With that, she turned and walked away.