Become The Duke's Wife Or Die

The person came closer, carrying something in the hand.  That person's figure created shadows that fell across the floor, alerting Lyra to the presence.  The sound of footsteps, as well as something blaring, echoed throughout the prison room, like a death trumpet.

Lyra's head looked up, surveying the darkness covering her vision, squinting heavily to see the figure, who had placed something on the prison floor.  Wide-eyed, various feelings welled up in her chest.

"Ella," she whispered weakly, bowing her head again, weeping her fate that would end tomorrow. She should be glad Ella came to visit her.

Ella visibly grimaced at the sight of her from outside the prison, lowering herself to sit up, trying to check on Lyra.  "My Lady, are you all right?"  she asked worriedly, looking even better than Lyra.  Her face was covered in more of a somber aura, the flames of the torches only gave a tiny flicker of light to her well-groomed figure.  "I brought you dinner.  Haven't you eaten since this afternoon?"  Like a mother who worries about her daughter's condition.

"Was he the one who asked you to deliver food for me?"  Lyra asked, pitiful on the floor, cheeks pressed together, referring to Duke Kleo.

"That's right, My Lady," Ella nodded politely, looking sadly at Lyra's disheveled appearance, remembering the glorious days for Lyra, remembering her beauty and smile.  "Now you must eat, My Lady, so that you will remain strong until tomorrow!" She even looked doubtful as she said it.  "Maybe tomorrow His Grace has changed his mind, and maybe tomorrow you can find a way to persuade him."  Her brows slanted sadly.

"Looks like the fix decision was made this time," Lyra commented, as if in favor of her death, as if she had given up completely.  "He hates me for my other mistakes."  Remembering her decision to accept the offer to be the mistress of Marquess Helmut.  "I doubt he wants to see me alive.  It seems he just wants to see me make another mistake so he has a stronger reason to kill me."  Her hands were clenched into fists, her cheeks wet with tears.

"Maybe he never really wanted me."  Her voice trembled violently, like being shaken by an earthquake, blown away by the past that suddenly hit her, remembering how sad her life was even since she was a child, without parents.  "He just had to because he couldn't keep his promise to Lady Helen.  Now he had found a way to break the promise.  He will not marry me, but will execute me."

"Don't talk like that, My Lady!"  Ella began to shed tears, imagining the most terrifying possibility.  She had loved Lyra, and at the same time had hope for Wereal to become a place of peace and happiness.

"I'm just a commoner, Ella.  Our status is the same, or even you are higher than me because you are a palace maid for a noble.  You don't need to call me my lady anymore.  You can call me by my name, or maybe some other dirty name.  It suits me."

Suddenly the air became very cold, making Lyra pull her arm to hug her own body.  The dress she was wearing didn't do much to warm her body, much less in the damp dungeon, amidst the obvious death intent.

"I will continue to call you, as usual, My Lady.  Please don't give up easily.  Perhaps His Grace was angry at being influenced by Lord Helmut.  Soon he will surely forgive you.  You guys can be as affectionate as before.  His Grace likes you very much, My Lady."

"If he likes me then he won't get mad at me so easily," Lyra shrieked, looking like she was in a daze.  "He won't hurt me easily either."  The wounds on her body suddenly multiplied, causing her to ache to the bone.

"I guess His Grace still doesn't know how to treat a girl he likes, My Lady because he's never had any experience with this."  That's a fact, and it's happening right now.  "So please give His Grace a chance!"  Like a mother defending her son.  Which side is Ella on?

"You should have told him that."  Lyra grimaced, seeming unconcerned about why Duke Kleo had treated her so unfairly.  "You should have asked him to give me a chance."

"What would you do if His Grace gave you a chance, My Lady?"

"I don't know," said Lyra after a long pause.  "I don't even know what I want."  Sounds like giving up, feeling her body exhausted from crying too much.

When all the ambiguous feelings were churned into one suddenly a guard came with an order.  His well-built body was hidden behind a shining suit of armor.  In his hand was a stick like a spear.  His face was stiff like an emotionless warrior.  "His Grace commands you to finish the dinner menu immediately!"

"Why?"  Lyra was still curled up, not changing her position.  "Why did he insist that I finish the dinner menu?  Did he put poison in it?"

There was silence, only the sound of torches being heard, blaring as the fuel burned.

Taking a deep breath, Lyra got up with difficulty and staggered to her feet.  Her blonde hair splattered over more than half of her face, hiding the beauty of her eyes.  Her hand tried to reach for the tray containing the dinner menu, which even tasted bland and unfit for consumption.

Once again she remembered that she was no longer an honorable human being, she was a prisoner who might be worth less than an animal.  She will be executed tomorrow with a body that may not be properly cared for, thrown away, or perhaps given to a wild crocodile.

Her tears melted once more between her mouth that was chewing the food, draining it all with a tight throat and a quivering back.

Ella burst into tears when she saw her downing her drink, pushing the empty tray away.

"I've eaten it all.  You can take it away, Ella.  May you always be happy."  Then Lyra curled up on the floor again, listening to the footsteps away from her

Her head sank beneath her puffy dress, feeling her consciousness diminish bit by bit.  Her eyes tried to open, forcing themselves, but they were glued.

"This is it," she whispered with a frustrated smile.  "He poisoned me.  I'll be dead in a minute."

One thing she didn't know was that the effects of the poison were different from sleeping pills.  You'll feel, at the very least, nausea, dizziness, and vomiting instead of being unbearably drowsy.

Within a few short seconds, her eyes were out of control, completely closed.  However, her consciousness remained a little bit, as she heard footsteps approaching her, opening the prison door at a constant speed.

Then some fingers brushed her cheek gently, brushing her hair that was scattered.  The person lifted her body to take her somewhere.

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