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Prologue
It was already the second time.
The empty stomach had already carved away even her heart. She no longer had the strength to feel pain or the energy to grieve.
Only the candles, lit by the maids as they grumbled before leaving, flickered faintly in the air, as if trying to console a vanished soul.
“…Haah…”
Even tears had become a luxury. She could instinctively tell that death was right before her. Was what she saw before dying merely an illusion?
Ann lay on the gray ceiling, murmuring softly.
“If I ever get up from this place…”
The black, towering shape carried a familiar and long-missed scent. It was him.
“I’ll make sure to divorce you.”
The man’s shoulder seemed to twitch for a moment—was that just her imagination?
Ann couldn’t be sure, but soon decided it didn’t matter either way.
The candlelight flickered weakly in front of her eyes. The light, briefly dispelling the darkness, was faint and powerless.
In that dim glow, the man’s shadow stretched long across the wall, as if it would swallow the fireplace whole. Even as tears traced down the woman’s eyes, the man standing at a distance did not move.
Ann no longer had the strength to reach out to him.
This was truly the end.
She should have been unable to get up. She should have divorced him long ago.
No—she never should have married him in the first place.
Belated regrets were useless in the face of death.
“You are not going to be a shackle binding your own ankle. So…”
Ann’s unfinished words trailed off as she closed her eyes.
On her damp, clammy face, only the half-melted candle continued to burn with a faint crackling light.
