Prologue
It was the second time already.
Her hollow stomach felt as if it had carved out her very heart. She no longer had the strength to feel pain or the will to grieve.
Only the flickering candle, left behind by the grumbling maids, remained to comfort the soul that had faded away into the air.
“Haa…”
Even tears felt like a luxury now.
She could instinctively sense that death was right around the corner.
Was this a hallucination—seeing him just before dying?
Lying on her back, Anne muttered softly as she gazed at the gray ceiling.
“If I manage to get up…”
The dark, towering figure carried a familiar, longed-for scent.
It really was him.
“I’ll make sure to divorce you.”
Was it her imagination, or did his shoulders flinch just slightly?
Anne couldn’t be sure. But soon, she decided it didn’t matter.
The candlelight trembled faintly in front of her eyes.
Its weak glow held off the darkness for just a moment.
In the dim light, the man’s shadow stretched across the fireplace, long and wavering.
Even as a trail of moisture ran down the woman’s cheek, the man standing in the distance didn’t move.
Anne no longer had the strength to reach out to him.
This was truly the end.
She would never get up again. She should’ve divorced him long ago.
No—she should’ve never married him in the first place.
Regret meant nothing before death.
“I won’t be the shackle that binds you anymore. So please…”
Anne closed her eyes before she could finish.
Only the half-melted candle flickered with a soft crackle over her damp, clammy face, casting a faint glow.
