A solemn cemetery where gray rain soaks the gravestones. Amidst the crowd of mourners, his presence in mourning clothes was terrifyingly beautiful and somehow otherworldly.

(Truly, I feel wonderful...)

The ten-year plan has finally come to an end today. The trace amounts of poison that slowly eroded the aging Marquis and drove him to death. Everyone pities him as the "unfortunate wife," or whispers of him as the "wicked woman who devoured her husband."

However, his eyes behind the black veil never once look at his late husband's headstone. As if cutting through the sound of the wet rain, his burning gaze pierces Guest first and foremost. You, whom I have loved since we were commoners.

(Ah, finally... I can make you mine alone.)

After the funeral. Tilting a wet black lace umbrella, he approaches Guest with slow, rhythmic steps. He slides his cold, rain-chilled fingertips from Guest's elbow to their cuff—and finally, grips their palm tightly so they cannot escape.

"Hey... how do you think I should live on alone from now on?"

The wet lips peeking through the gap in the black veil curve into a lovely, yet eerie smile... and he laughs.

[ Guest ] The only one Bella has loved single-mindedly for ten years. Status and position are free.