Dalia searched through her memories from before her regression. Now that she thought about it, there were some people who truly deserved to die.

They preyed on the weak, satisfying their corrupt desires to the point of murder, yet they were regarded by society as quiet and insignificant, like the second son of some baron.

They saddled the desperate with insurmountable debts, pushing them deeper into the abyss, while outwardly being praised for their talents, like the youngest son of a count.

There were others who would eventually make the headlines. As Dalia thought of them, one name stood out in her mind.

A woman who had killed several young ladies – girls who had never even had a chance to bloom – with poison, yet was known as a strict and highly respected teacher of etiquette.

Unlike the others, she was the only woman who could easily summon Duke Fraser with her name and reputation alone.

With a cold, indifferent expression, Dalia wrote her an invitation.

“It will be an unfortunate accident.”

Even if the Duchess of Fraser were mocked, no one would dare poison her directly. So Dalia’s death would undoubtedly be attributed to poisoning, but it would have to be made to look like an accident.

“Ah, even if it’s an accident, since it’s linked to the Fraser Duke family, whoever is accused as the culprit will live a life worse than death”.

And the woman deserved it.

“Shall I say, ‘Those who rise with poison will fall with poison’?”

From now on she would carefully build up a relationship with this woman, inviting her regularly for tea, subtly planting the tea leaves mixed with Alois that had been set aside for poison in the minds of those around her.

She would recommend it to the woman and occasionally hint to others that it was the woman’s suggestion. In the future, no matter what the woman said, no one would question the words of the late Duchess.

Having completed another step in her escape plan, Dalia turned her attention to the mountain of documents.

For a moment, the sound of papers being shuffled and a pen being scratched filled the room, but then it stopped. For the upcoming Foundation Festival, the royal family…

As she leafed through the meaningless documents, the memory of the Foundation banquet before her regression suddenly washed over her like a tidal wave.

Dalia instinctively straightened her chest. She remembered the moment he had ruthlessly scarred her there.

Her love for him had vanished then, leaving nothing of value behind. And even before her chest had split, it had never been whole.

Thinking of her heart, bruised and dark, she touched it gently and let out a dry, hollow laugh. Now that she thought about it, it was true.

Although the bruise was no longer there, it had once been a living mark. A terrible bruise that should never have existed on the body of a noble Duchess. Dalia slowly ran her fingertip over the spot where the bruise had once been – a bruise of her own making.

She never grew tired of unrequited love, but after Irvelyn appeared and Curtis’ passionate love began to burn, she couldn’t bring herself to speak.

In the end, she remained silent, pounding her own chest in agony as if it would burst, a wound deeper than any scar she had ever carried.

“I can’t breathe. You’ve taken all my breath away.” 

“I… I can’t breathe.” 

Her cries, unheard by anyone, slowly faded into nothingness, just like her heart – bruised, dark and incomprehensible. No one could understand the pain she was carrying.

If only she hadn’t known. If only she had been like a blind woman, unable to see the truth. 

If only, if only…

She had wished that countless times, but it was already too late. 

“Irvelyn. How beautiful. Please, take my hand.” 

“Irvelyn. Irvelyn. Irvelyn.”

As she watched Curtis politely ask Irvelyn to dance, she could hear his voice desperately calling her name.

Those moments, one by one, became haunting memories that tormented Dalia.

She slowly withered away, like a plant growing alone in the wrong place, in the wrong way.

Even though she knew she was rotting, she couldn’t leave – because of love, because of him. And because it was her choice, she couldn’t bring herself to blame him.

She couldn’t accuse Irvelyn of having an affair with Curtis, because Curtis had treated her so perfectly and gentlemanly. So, despite biting her tongue in frustration, she couldn’t even bring herself to warn her.

Ah, how perfect he was in every way. He left no room for Dalia, his former wife, and not the slightest flaw for Irvelyn, his new wife.

And now she would leave without leaving anything behind.

While Dalia carefully considered the final step of her escape plan, she continued to manage the Duke’s affairs with impeccable precision.

***

“Phew, it feels like the Foundation Festival was just yesterday, and now it’s already winter.”

“This person must be out of his mind. It’s been a long time since the Festival ended.” 

“That’s exactly what I’m saying. Ugh, it’s so cold. I hope it ends soon so I can have some hot soup.”

On a winter morning, when coats are thicker and breath turns white in the air, winter has truly arrived. The carriage, weaving through the busy crowd, made its way to the Duke Fraser’s residence.

As it approached the area closest to the palace, the carriage entered the main gate. A middle-aged woman, her hair neatly styled, stepped out.

Known in society as a respected teacher of etiquette, she had become close to the Duchess of Fraser since the Foundation Festival the previous autumn. Over the past few months, their friendship had blossomed and they now spoke of each other with pride. 

“Welcome, My Lady.”

When the butler, Sebastian, greeted her personally, the lady lifted her chin slightly and forced a stern, overly pretentious smile on her face.

“The Duchess…” 

“I will lead you.” 

After a brief moment, the lady engaged in light conversation with Dalia, as she had before, and they chatted merrily. 

“The scent is lovely.” 

“I am delighted to introduce you to this wonderful tea.” 

“Your taste is truly refined, madam. I hope the young ladies of today will learn from it…” 

In front of the lady was tea without Alois, while in Dalia’s cup was tea with Alois. However, due to the strong aroma of the tea, anyone with normal senses would have difficulty telling the difference. 

“I have to go now.” 

“All right, please come again. Conversations with you are always enjoyable.” 

“Of course. It’s an honour.” 

A few minutes passed after the lady, who continued to talk about things Dalia had no interest in hearing, left.

“Kh-hm.”
With a short cough, Dalia licked the blood from her lips. Even though she had taken the antidote, poison was still poison. Dalia swallowed the bitter taste of blood and wiped her pale cheek.

“Not much longer now.”

***

On a day when the cold wind stung her skin and rattled the windows, Dalia sat alone in her office and counted the days. One day, two days, and then two more. 

Four days from now, Curtis would arrive unexpectedly at the Duke’s residence at three in the afternoon, and that day would be the perfect opportunity for her.

After a year of careful preparation, everything was finally falling into place. Dalia would drink the poison and escape death at Curtis’s hands.

The beginning of her plan wouldn’t involve showing him the whole process – her coughing up blood and her heart stopping – but she would make him think she was dead. 

While she had been drinking tea mixed with Alois, she had always taken the antidote as well. So even if she didn’t take the antidote immediately after drinking the poison, her breathing would stop for a short time. Of course, she would have to take the antidote as soon as she regained consciousness… 

With her life on the line, Dalia had meticulously examined all the supplies and even experimented on some rats. She pushed the documents aside and pulled the dark stone from her pocket.

This stone was much heavier than those normally used for squeezing fruit or draining water. It was the key to the ‘escape method’ that had been the final source of Dalia’s troubles.

Having to prepare everything herself, without any help from others, had been a struggle, but as they say, necessity is the mother of invention. Eventually she came up with a solution. 

Once inside the coffin, with the lid closed and buried underground, there would be no way to escape, so she had to act quickly before that happened.

After all, once she was inside the coffin and had regained consciousness, her only chance of escape would be to use the weight of the stone to help her escape.

According to Empire burial customs, once the coffin lid is closed, it cannot be reopened – which was fortunate for Dalia.