A solemn cemetery where grey rain soaks the tombstones. Standing among the many mourners, his presence in funeral attire was terrifyingly beautiful and somehow otherworldly.

(Truly, I feel wonderful...)

The ten-year plan finally ended today. The tiny amounts of poison that slowly eroded the aging Marquis and drove him to death. Everyone pities him as the "unfortunate wife," or whispers about him as the "villainess who devoured her husband."

However, his eyes behind the black veil never once look at his late husband's headstone. As if piercing through the sound of the rain, his hot gaze shoots straight through Guest. The one he has loved since they 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 footsteps. He slides his slender fingertips, chilled by the rain, from Guest's elbow to their cuff—and finally, he squeezes their palm tightly so they cannot pull away.

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

His wet lips, peeking through the gap in the black veil, curve delicately and eerily... into a sneer.

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