Chapter 2

I sat in that chair all night.

It was only when the sky began to lighten that I finally stood up.

My legs were numb, but I couldn't even feel them anymore.

An overwhelming fear and hatred raged inside me, like two monsters fighting to rip me apart.

I walked over to the dressing table and stared at my reflection in the mirror.

After a sleepless night, dark circles were already showing under my eyes.

But my eyes were shockingly clear.

There was not a single tear, not a hint of despair, just a cold flame burning inside.

First, I needed to be sure whether that voice was real or just in my head. Did I really hear Emily's thoughts, or was I just losing it?

I called for my personal maid, Mila.

Mila pushed the door open and looked startled when she saw my face.

"My lady, are you alright? You look so pale," she said, her voice full of concern.

I didn't answer her.

Instead, I reached out and gently wrapped my fingers around her wrist, just as I had done with the cup earlier.

Mila looked a bit puzzled, but she stayed put.

I closed my eyes, centering all my focus.

In an instant, Mila's timid voice echoed in my mind.

[My lady looks so pale today. Is she feeling unwell?]

[The Duke spent the night in his study. Did he have a fight with my lady?]

[Hope this doesn't mess things up for us.]

It was real.

Everything was real.

I could hear what others were thinking, as long as I touched them.

The moment I confirmed it, any last bit of hope I had was gone.

A coldness seeped into my bones.

And then, an even fiercer hatred surged up inside me.

Richard was actually plotting against me.

And he started targeting both our son and me right after our son's wedding.

Very well. If you wanted to play dirty, I had to fight back.

I let go of Mila's wrist, and the voices in my head faded away instantly.

I opened my eyes. My gaze was back to its usual calm, like nothing had happened.

"It's nothing. I just didn't sleep well last night," I said, my voice flat. "Come help me freshen up."

"Yes, my lady," Mila replied.

She began to style my hair and dress me, her movements practiced and gentle.

In the mirror, my face slowly regained its usual elegance under Mila's skilled hands.

But I knew, something inside me had changed completely.

I'd spent 22 years sanding down every edge of my personality, all for the title of Duchess.

I was gentle, kind, and gracious.

I kept the Palmer estate running like clockwork, so Richard never had to worry about a thing.

I thought all my hard work would guarantee me a lifetime of peace and security.

Turned out that it was nothing but a cruel joke.

They wanted to take everything from me—my position, my son, and even my life.

How could I possibly let them have their way?

After finishing my morning routine, I changed into simple clothes.

On the surface, I was still that unassuming Duchess, someone who never meddled in anything.

I stepped out of my room.

The sun was shining, and the courtyard was bursting with life.

But inside, my heart was icy.

I had just five days.

No, now there were only four days left.

In four days, I had to find a way to change my fate.

Richard accused me of cuckolding him and that Edward wasn't even his own flesh and blood.

These were deadly accusations enough to utterly destroy me.

In a world where a husband's word was absolute, a woman branded as unfaithful was as good as dead.

I had to find out exactly what kind of evidence he'd got against me.

I also needed to find out who Emily's aunt was.

They were lurking in the dark, while I was exposed.

I couldn't make any rash moves.

I needed to keep them in check for now.

I had the kitchen prepare a sumptuous breakfast spread.

Then, I headed straight for Richard's study myself.

As I expected, he really had spent the night away.

When I pushed open the door, he was drawing.

When he saw me, there was a flicker of surprise in his eyes.

But almost immediately, his usual cold indifference returned.

"What brings you here, dear?" he asked.

As usual, I walked over and cleared up the paint for him.

My fingers "accidentally" brushed against the back of his hand.

[What's she doing here?]

[Did she figure something out?]

[No way. There's no way she could've found out. This plan is flawless.]

[Just four more days later, I can finally bring Charlotte home as my wife.]

[The venomous bitch, I'll make sure she dies miserably!]

His thoughts, dripping with hatred and murder, exploded in my mind.

My hand gave a sudden tremor.

The paint dropped onto the paper, ruining a nearly finished piece.

Richard's brows furrowed immediately.

"What a troublemaker," he muttered, his voice dripping with disdain.

I lowered my head, hiding the storm in my eyes.

So it was Charlotte.

Charlotte Monroe was Lord Chancellor, John Monroe's younger sister.

She was famous throughout the city, both for her brilliance and for being the city's top beauty back in the day.

And once upon a time, she was my best friend.

Later, she married into a family down south and moved away.

We had been out of touch for over a decade.

Never in my wildest dreams did I think she'd end up getting involved with Richard.

Emily was Charlotte's niece.

This whole marriage was a setup from the very start to make it easy for Charlotte to step into my shoes as the Duchess.

And I was the obstacle standing in their way.

My heart felt like it was soaking in ice water. I felt cold and aching all at once.

I was betrayed by my husband and my closest friend.

I shut my eyes for a moment. When I opened them, everything was clear.

I knew it was not the time for tears.

I had to take action immediately.