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Seret Enohater was poisoned to death by her husband the moment she gave birth to their child.
She expected that her husband might divorce her one day, but she never imagined that she would be killed so horribly.
Her lips trembled lightly.
“Cough...”
A stream of blood rushed between Seret's lips.
“Tch.”
Nearby, Lydia's face contorted.
In those blue eyes, which narrowed as if they were looking at something dirty, there was nothing but disgust.
“Lidya… you… you knew… all along...”
Seret could no longer formulate words. So much blood flowed from her mouth, her paralyzed tongue refused to work.
Her head was spinning, her vision blurry. Her throat and chest felt like she had swallowed fire. Death was creeping towards her.
“I will raise the child well, Seret.”
Through her dimmed vision, Seret stared at Lydia, tugging at the hem of her skirt.
Her husband's beloved mistress.
As she lay dying before her, remorse consumed Seret.
I should never have trusted him.
I should never have married him.
I should never have loved him.
Countless regrets accompanied her until the end.
“Though, who knows if the baby will grow properly, tainted by your stupid blood.”
“My baby… my little one…”
Tears streamed from Siret's eyes. Just thinking about her child crushed her heart.
She gave birth but never saw the baby. She begged her husband to let her hold the baby, but he did not show him to her even once.
“If the child is Yuan’s, then it is mine too. Yuan and I will raise him together.”
Lydia let out a cold laugh, her blue eyes shining.
Her husband said he loved those eyes. He said that blue eyes are the most beautiful. Seret let out a hollow, broken laugh.
“At least the kid's eyes are blue. Fortunately, he looks like me, even if just a little.”
Blue eyes. My baby has blue eyes...
Seret tried to imagine the face of the child whom she had never seen once. If only she could see him, just once, before she died.
“How lucky that your baby's eyes are the same color as mine.”
Lydia's voice began to fade. Seret's consciousness was leaking away.
“We will be a perfect family. Yuan, me, and the baby.”
So this is my way to die. Just like that…
In the last moment of her life, Seret made one last wish,
May both my husband and Lydia fall into the fires of hell. May they suffer the same hell as I did. And if I were born again, I would never love Yuan Freixtor ever, ever.
“So hurry up and disappear, Siret.”
Lydia burst out laughing. As the sound rang in her ears, Seret collapsed to the ground.
Thus ended the tragic first life of Seret Enwhatir—
Poisoned by her husband's gift,
Mocking her husband's mistress.
“Miss. Miss.”
A familiar voice—Hannah's voice. Upon hearing this, Seret's eyes filled with tears. Hannah, the maid who was always by her side before her marriage.
But soon after Seret's marriage, Hannah fell ill and died young.
So...I must be in heaven. Hannah came to guide me.
Seret opened her eyes. There was Hannah's face.
“Miss, are you feeling unwell?”
When Seret saw Hana's worried expression, she sat up, holding her arm, and swallowed her tears.
“Hannah, are you okay? You couldn't get the right medicine, so that's why...”
Poor Hannah. If you had come with me to the Duke's Palace, I would have been able to save you.
No... Maybe it's better that you died first. At least you didn't know the hell I went through.
“Hannah.”
Seret buried her face in Hana's waist, sobbing.
“Miss? Are you really sick? You have a bit of a fever.”
Hannah placed her hand on Seret's forehead, frowning, gently patting her shoulder.
“Oh my God, you must have a cold. I told you to close the window before bed.”
Hannah moved away to close the wide-open window, grumbling.
“Where... am I?”
Seret looked around. This was her old home—the one she had lived in with her family before marrying.
The small room was filled with old furniture left by her late mother. Even though the walls and floor were faded from the sunlight, Seret loved this room.
“My home…it’s my home.”
Seret returned to the place she cherished, covered her mouth, and sobbed.
“Oh, miss, you're being so dramatic.”
Hannah smiled helplessly and approached.
"Eat a snack and take some medicine. Today is an important day."
“Big day?”
“The day His Highness the Duke will take you to the capital! You were so excited yesterday.”
“Duke… do you mean Yuan?”
Seret's heart sank. Just hearing his name made her body shiver. That cruel man who gave her poison through his mistress.
"You two must have gotten closer after your outing. You're calling him by his name now."
"Duke Fricstor? Do you mean that man?"
Seret grabbed Hana's arm in disbelief and asked again.
“Yes, who else?”
“It's really him… Hana, I don't want to see him. No, I should never meet him.”
Seret threw off the blanket and got out of bed. The pain of the poison was still fresh in her memory—her throat burning, her insides torn apart.
The thought of confronting the man who had caused this was like drinking poison again.
Seret walked into the room, terrified. Just thinking about Yuan Freixtor filled her with terror.
I thought he was just an indifferent man, but he was much more than that—cruel enough to send poison to the woman who bore his child.
“Miss, please calm down.”
Hannah took her hand anxiously.
“Hannah, tell him not to come. Please, don’t let him come.”
Tears streamed from Siret's eyes. She didn't want to see him. Why did the man who killed her even follow her to heaven?
“Miss?”
"Why is he coming? Why should I meet him?"
“Why? Because you were invited to the Emperor’s ball! He is coming to pick you up personally—how kind!”
Hannah's eyes sparkled as if there was no better man than him.
“Emperor's party?”
The words sparked memories. Before getting married, she once attended such a ceremony with Yuan.
Her father was injured and unable to travel, and her brother was studying abroad. So, the Viscount entrusted her to the Duke—her fiancé.
It seemed appropriate enough. After all, she was engaged to Yuan, and the invitation came only because of that.
But it was the beginning of its destruction. It was at that party that she met Lidya for the first time—and learned that Yuan and Lidya were hopelessly in love, and that she herself was merely an obstacle between them.
Seret slowly approached the mirror.
A girl with platinum locks, clear skin, and eyes bluer than rubies stared at her.
Not the face shadowed with anxiety, nor the dim eyes heavy with sadness—
But her bright past self.
It was not the face of the twenty-three-year-old woman who had died so miserably, but the young, hopeful face of the girl she had once been.
“Hannah, how old am I?”
“Miss, really—just after your birthday, you’re twenty.”
So… not heaven, but the past. Before her marriage.
God must have had pity on her.
“I must have gone back in time.”
She touched her young face, muttering.
A chance to start over. Blessing—she was no longer destined to die miserably.
Her blue eyes sparkled coldly. She clenched her fist and stared at her reflection.
You were foolish, Siret Inuhatir. You suffered because you were blind.
Her last life flashed before her eyes—their love games, her sacrifice, her stolen child, her death. It will never happen again.
“Miss, wash your face first. I will get water.”
Hannah hurried out. Even after she left, Seret kept staring at her reflection.
Then—knock, knock.
Sereret thought Hana had returned, so she opened the door.
But it wasn't Hannah.
It was Yuan Freixtor. Her ex-husband. That hateful man.
Tall and broad-shouldered, with hair as dark as night and deep gray eyes, his striking features were unforgettable.
Despite his polite and friendly appearance, he carried a cold aura, always controlling the space around him.
Seret always found him scary. Even as his wife, she never once knew his affection.
However, it is certain that all of this was generously given to Lydia.
Hate flooded her eyes.
“You...”
When she met him again, Seret's anger boiled, and her mind was paralyzed. How could she remain calm in front of the man who killed her?
Her hands shook as she gripped her nightgown, the thin fabric wrinkled.
Veins popped out in her forehead as anger consumed her.
“The Viscount said you would be awake now...”
Yuan cleared his throat, looking to the side awkwardly, unsure where to rest his gaze on her nightwear.
"yuan!"
Seret grabbed a small vase from the bedside table and rushed over to him. Blinded by anger, she saw nothing else.
"died!"
She waved the vase. Yuan was surprised and failed to dodge it. The vase hit his forehead with a crack, and shattered.
Shards flew to the ground like snow. Blood ran down his eyebrow—just as Seret's blood had flowed in her final moments.
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