“This is not grave robbing. My Lady left the grave of her own accord and departed from this place.”

There was something Cecilia, the lady of House Winterhall, used to say all the time.

“I’m going to die.”

And every time she did, her husband Davion would give her the same answer.

“Stop joking around. I told you, it’s not funny.”

But then, one day, she really did die.

The sudden death of the countess.

And, astonishingly, a week later, her grave was found empty.

After deceiving everyone with a witch’s potion, Cecilia had finally won herself complete freedom.

“My plans aren’t anything special. First, I’m going to do all the things that were forbidden in that damn house. Like drinking, for instance, just as I’m doing now.”

Cecilia drained her glass in one gulp and let out a satisfied, “Ahh!”

But the moment she heard the next question, her expression darkened…

“Ah… My husband?”

She thought for a moment, then shrugged nonchalantly.

“That man once called me a stain on his life.”

“…”

“He’s probably forgotten someone like me ages ago and gone right back to living his grand, comfortable life, throwing his weight around like he always did.”