My Husband Never Dies

“Have you been waiting long?”

His polite voice quietly echoed. With a step so light it carried no weight, the Duke seated himself across from Evelyn.

“Hmm…”

A smile bloomed on the man’s face as he looked down at the antique tea cup. His gently slanted eyes and soft curves on his lips made him seem like a beautiful piece of art. Truly, such beauty was a waste.

Evelyn, hiding her tension, took a sip of the tea. A sweet fragrance lingered in her mouth.

Soon, the Duke naturally followed her lead and lifted his teacup. The man, who had taken in the poison without knowing it, casually drank the deathly tea.

It’s done!

Evelyn’s chest swelled with elation.

It was so easy — what a fool of a prince. If the prince hadn’t frightened her so much, she wouldn’t have had to feel this burden.

Now, Evelia Locke was free. What would her new, clean identity be like? If possible, she’d love to spend her life playing and living leisurely on a warm southern beach.

The man, who had set his teacup down, spoke in a neutral tone.

“The journey was difficult, but you don’t seem tired.”

“Pardon? Ah… it can’t be helped.”

“Your first night?”

Evelyn smiled shyly in response, her expression a perfect act. As if she couldn’t bear to look him directly in the eye, she only stole quick glances at him.

The poison she had mixed into the Fiolle tea was a toxin that attacked the heart of living creatures. Even a tiny amount could kill a person, and it was nearly impossible to build a tolerance against it.

The poison, a wild herb that only grew in the far southern tip of the continent, was so rare that it had to be purified dozens of times to be used, making it quite valuable.

A poison that can kill creatures without being seen, so much so that it’s in such high demand that most people couldn’t get their hands on it.

Evelyn had never used it before, so she was curious about its effects.

How would death come?

Evelyn couldn’t hold back her nervousness and covered her mouth with the teacup. The meaning hidden behind her smile couldn’t be discerned, but it was not a smile that a princess would make.

Before the poison could spread, Evelyn carefully rose from her seat, intending to disguise the signs of his death. His blue eyes followed her movement. The intense stare… was not as neutral as it seemed.

Evelyn, wearing a flowing sheer gown that barely concealed her figure, grabbed the duke’s arm. The tightly muscled arm felt similar to that of a fighter. She instinctively knew that if he hadn’t drunk the tea, she would have had a hard time overpowering him.

The duke, quietly observing her actions, opened his mouth.

“It’s troubling, isn’t it, when a princess behaves like a prxstitute on the streets.”

The words would have made a high-ranking princess blush with shame and anger, but Evelyn didn’t really care. She wasn’t a prxstitute, but neither was she a princess, so it wasn’t particularly shameful to her.

Evelyn smirked and took off her gown. It slipped off her skin with a soft rustle, falling silently to the floor. He had been expecting her to react poorly, so the duke quickly averted his gaze in response.

A white neck, small enough to fit in one hand, revealed a slender collarbone and beautifully rounded brxxsts beneath it.

However, the Duke’s gaze was fixed on a particular part — the upper left side of her chest, where a large scar remained.

The man raised his hand with a fascinated look on his face. His long fingers ran over the scar with ease. Evelyn flinched involuntarily at the heat of his body, which was warmer than even her own.

“How did such a scar end up on your noble body?”

“You know… Until last year, I didn’t even know I was a princess.”

Evelyn casually lied. The story she had agreed upon with the prince was easy to memorize because it was so clichéd.

She shared her fake backstory, about how she was abandoned by her mentally unstable mother and raised among commoners.

“I had a rougher life than you noble folk can imagine, and if I was unlucky, I might have died.”

However, the last part wasn’t a lie. The dizzying memory of the knife lodged in her chest resurfaced. She had almost committed suicide together with her target after underestimating them.

The Duke, who had been tracing the scar with his index and middle fingers, suddenly pulled Evelyn toward him, wrapping her thin body around his. Their bodies were pressed together so tightly that there was no room for heat to escape.

The man, having discarded his mask of courtesy, leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a low murmur.

“How exactly do you mean by… rough?”

Their breaths, mingling in the air, were so close now that the tips of their noses almost brushed. Evelyn became acutely aware of the man’s face hovering just above hers. It was truly a picture-perfect face. After having seen countless people in her life, she’d never encountered such a strikingly captivating appearance.

When Evelyn, caught in the spell of his sky-blue eyes, failed to respond, the Duke lowered his head further, pressing his lips against her delicate skin. His warm breath made her shiver, a tremor running through her body.

Though she had never been unfamiliar with the art of seduction, for some inexplicable reason, Evelyn’s body stiffened as though she were a vxrgin about to face her first experience. No, it was the first experience of murder that came to mind.

“Did you spread your legs for anyone, like those whxres on the street, Princess?”