Prologue

When Cordelia opened her eyes in the morning, she realized that today was her twentieth birthday.

At seven, she wished for a big teddy bear.

At ten, she wanted to be a happy princess from a fairy tale.

At fifteen, her only wish was to escape the suffocating poverty that weighed her down.

“O sacred morning star that protects Vasquez.”

She clasped her hands together and made a wish for her twentieth birthday gift.

With a desperate plea mixed in, begging that if you have any conscience, please grant this one.

“Please, kill my husband.”

* * *

‘He’s not dead yet.’

As she gazed at her husband with sad eyes, the maid beside her offered gentle consolation.

“Don’t worry too much, young mistress. The master will wake up soon.”

“Yes, he should.”

She forced a smile, pulling up the corners of her mouth. The maid began wiping the hand of the man lying like a corpse, after soaking a towel in water.

It had already been five months since Cordelia’s husband, Craig Abrams, lost consciousness after falling from his horse.

The physician who first examined Craig said he wouldn’t last ten days, but time passed, and now five months had gone by.

‘He should have died cleanly when he fell from the horse. How long do I have to keep taking care of this living corpse?’

Cordelia muttered these terrifying words to herself as if it were nothing.

Sometimes, when left alone in the room with him, she was overwhelmed by the desire to press a pillow over his face.

‘You’re a daughter of Vasquez? Your face is passable, but I wonder about your figure.’

On their wedding night, Craig had looked the bride up and down with lecherous eyes, smacking his lips.

Cordelia’s face turned bright red at the insult she had never experienced before. Seeing this, Craig’s two mistresses burst into laughter.

‘It’s your first night as husband and wife. How can you bring other women into the bridal chamber…?’

‘Yes, I know. I prepared this especially for you. Say hello. This is Alicia. That one is Elizabeth.’

It didn’t take long to judge what kind of person Craig Abrams was.

He was a man who felt no shame in bringing mistresses into the bedroom on his wedding night and cavorting shamelessly in front of his bride.

“The master needs to wake up soon.”

“Indeed.”

As she uttered words she didn’t mean, the door suddenly burst open without any warning.

“Oh my!”

Startled by the sound, the maid spilled the washbasin she was holding. The water soaked the bedding and dripped onto the floor. The maid’s face turned pale.

“Oh dear, what should we do?”

“What are you doing?”

An irritated woman’s voice came from behind. Cordelia hastily stood up.

“Mother-in-law. You’re here.”

“Just because I’m not around, you pour water on my son’s body? Have you gone mad?”

“Madam, actually…”

The maid hurriedly stepped forward to confess her fault, but Cordelia blocked her.

“I apologize, Mother-in-law. It was my mistake.”

“You think sorry is enough? Craig’s body is soaked! Oh, my poor son. To think such a dimwit is his wife… Wake up soon, my child. Your mother’s heart is burning to ashes with worry.”

The lavishly dressed woman dabbed at her dry eyes with a handkerchief. Cordelia stood silently with her eyes lowered.

‘If anyone knew, they’d think he was her real son.’

Although she pretended to care deeply, in truth, Helena and Craig despised each other.

Helena, who had taken the position of mistress of the Abrams house shortly after Craig’s birth mother died, openly criticized Craig’s debauchery.

However, when the previous count died suddenly and she became a loose end, Helena’s attitude changed completely.

“Why are you standing there blankly? Hurry up and wipe the water! Craig must be so cold!”

At her scolding, Cordelia bent down to wipe the soaked bedding herself. Still unsatisfied, Helena spitefully said to Cordelia,

“You skip your meal today and go pray at the temple until tomorrow morning. Pray for Craig to wake up safely.”

“I will do so.”

“Useless thing. We shouldn’t have let you into the mansion from the start. Everything has gone wrong since you came to the castle!”

“…”

Helena glared at Cordelia with eyes full of contempt. As if Cordelia were the cause of all misfortune.

“What good is being one of the sacred eight families? Hah, you’re completely bankrupt and falling apart. Do you even know how much money Abrams has poured into your family?”

“…I’m always grateful, Mother-in-law.”

Cordelia forced a smile, trying not to reveal her rotting inner thoughts. It was the only way she could endure in this household.

The sacred eight families.

These are the eight families that founded Ershe along with the first king, Wilhelm. They are also called prince-electors because they hold the right to vote in selecting the king of Ershe.

But Vasquez, one of those eight families, had long since lost its glorious splendor and was now just an empty shell.

‘If it weren’t for Father, I could have avoided this miserable fate.’

Unfortunately, Cordelia’s marriage to Craig Abrams was not of her own will.

It was because her father, blinded by gold, sold his daughter off, saying they needed money for her sick father’s medicine—or more accurately, “Go earn money for my medicine.”

The misfortunes of Vasquez grew ever larger due to barren territory and foolish investment failures. The wheat from their diminishing lands was their only source of income.

With only minimal servants left, Vasquez Castle gradually turned into a gloomy, desolate place. Even meat appeared less and less frequently on the dining table.

Nevertheless, her father, the Prince-Elector of Vasquez, refused to let go of his pride.

Instead, he sold his daughter.

‘Cordelia, my daughter. You’re finally going to do something worthwhile.’

‘What do you mean? Surely, you’re not sending me to the Abrams?’

When the marriage proposal first came from the Abrams, Vasquez furiously rejected it.

He shouted that those “vulgar nouveau riche,” who had been elevated to the rank of count less than 20 years ago, didn’t know their place.

However, that meager pride easily crumbled before the sum of five hundred thousand linquids—a large amount to some, small to others.

‘The wedding date is already set, so prepare yourself quietly.’

‘But Father!’

‘How dare you talk back to your father.’

‘I don’t want to! There are rumors that man already has five mistresses. If it’s for medicine money, I’d rather talk to Baron Nicksan…’

‘Silence! Who are you to pretend you know anything? Tsk tsk. This is what happens when you read useless books. It’s all because of your worthless mother.’

Her father clicked his tongue and spoke ill of her already deceased mother.

He seemed to have forgotten that the once-healthy finances had collapsed after Cordelia’s mother passed away.

‘Sister, listen to Father. You know this is the best option.’

‘The best option? Dennis, how can you of all people say such a thing to me?’

‘It’s because it’s me that I’m saying this. Why are you being so selfish? How else are we going to pay for Father’s medicine? You have to get married anyway. Can’t you do this much for your family?’

Her younger brother Dennis, two years her junior, snapped at her irritably.

At the word “selfish,” Cordelia felt more dumbfounded than angry.

The money Dennis had spent just to call his fencing instructor was equivalent to several years’ wages for the servants. To raise that money, Cordelia had to wear dresses with mended hems over and over again.

‘Don’t even think about coming back.’

Her father made sure to drive the point home, fearing his daughter might try to run back home.

‘Even if you die, you should die there. This is no longer a place for you to return.’

‘Father…’

For a father sending his daughter off to marriage, he was excessively cold-hearted.

She clung to the small window of the carriage, watching the house she had lived in all her life shrink to a mere dot.

She cried her eyes out, then soon dried up. Cordelia, sold off to a scoundrel for just a few coins, realized that day:

‘In this world, the only one I can trust is myself…’

“Don’t stand there stupidly in a daze, at least massage Craig’s arms. Ugh, do I have to tell you everything?”

“…I understand, Mother-in-law.”

“Don’t even think about slacking off when I’m not around.”

Only after venting her irritation did Helena leave the room. After the door closed completely, the maid hesitated before speaking.

“Young mistress, I’m truly sorry. It was because of me.”

“It’s alright. I’m used to being scolded by the Mother-in-law anyway. Emily, you could be kicked out if you fall out of her favor. And your wedding is just around the corner.”

“But it wasn’t your fault, young mistress, and now you can’t even eat and have to pray until tomorrow morning…”

“I’m fine.”

Cordelia comforted her with a very faint smile. Emily’s eyes immediately turned red.

“Th-thank you so much, young mistress.”

“Don’t cry, tell me how your wedding preparations are going.”

“Sniff. Yes. There’s a dress that Kevin’s mother wore, we’re planning to use that as the wedding dress.”

It was simple to gain sympathy and favor among the servants.

A mother-in-law eager to find fault, a husband who kept mistresses daily, and the Abrams family members who looked down on her. It was a perfect situation to receive pity from people.

After learning that such sentiment flowed among the servants, Cordelia deliberately imitated the role of a ‘pitiful and unfortunate’ mistress.

‘If I’m going to be pitied anyway, I might as well use it.’

She thought in an extremely practical manner.

Receiving goodwill in any form was important, and it was even more crucial that it couldn’t be used as a weakness against her.

Fortunately, Cordelia had the talent to maintain the delicate balance between being a pitiful mistress and an approachable one.

Behind the face of the gently smiling mistress, Cordelia was assessing the situation more coldly than anyone else.

‘If only this man would die, I’d be free.’

If Craig died, the title of count would pass to another heir, and then no one would care where Cordelia went.

So Cordelia prayed every night.

Please, kill her husband.