After giving the relevant specifications to the woman and handing her the mandrake plant that, according to Fettes, would help her in the rituals, the man left with the promise to return that night.

Evangeline did everything she had been instructed to do. That afternoon, she ordered the servants to leave and not return until the following afternoon, a command that didn't surprise them at all. Throughout her marriage to wealthy Mr. Dalburick, they had been silent witnesses to beatings and arguments to the point where they would neglect their duties and be literally expelled from the mansion with the promise to remain silent even if questioned by the queen herself.

She spent the rest of the afternoon preparing some snacks to which she added considerable doses of crushed mandrake. She didn't know exactly what that peculiar plant would be capable of causing to her husband, but she felt confident. She didn't even care about the possible consequences of adding an unknown ingredient to the food and convinced herself that if it came to the unfortunate consequence of his death, then she would feel at peace despite not preserving any fortune. Anything would be better than having to endure that man for another second.

It was a fact that she couldn't stand the old and chubby Paris Dalburick, with whom she had been forced into marriage. He disgusted and annoyed her, and she wouldn't allow a man like him to touch her again. She felt that her youth and beauty were being wasted in the worst way. She, a young girl who had just turned twenty, full of illusions and desires to conquer the world in a single bite. She deserved a young husband, a seductive gentleman who would take her to dream of romantic fantasies, unexpected journeys, and mornings full of tenderness. Not a scarecrow of a man who only served to give her orders and whose few words of love made her feel disgusted.

Evangeline could breathe with tranquility only after dinner was finished. She had just enough time to tidy up and perform all the necessary tasks for that night. So, she congratulated herself and sat down to wait for her husband with a delicious glass of wine in her hand, which she couldn't even bring close to her lips.

She felt overwhelmed, an indescribable fear that sought to keep her subdued to Paris Dalburick, emerged from the depths of her being, haunting her with that disturbing question. What if she gave in? She still had time to do so. She could send a carriage to the outskirts of the city with a note to Frederick Fettes, explaining the reasons for her resignation and begging him never to set foot on her property again. She wished she could throw the snacks into the street, watch the dogs devour the remains, and completely forget about the whole thing, even if it meant her eternal unhappiness, but she couldn't.

Paris was a man much older than her, almost an old man, incapable of making her happy and fulfilling her in all the ways a good husband should. She wanted to marry that young man, for whom the doors of that mansion remained open whenever Paris went on a trip. A young man who seduced her with all the passion she needed.

It was then that the prospect of those last three years of marriage made Evangeline discover the hidden certainty deep within her being: that without a doubt, she couldn't bear another day with him.

Amid her thoughts, she heard the carriage parking in front of the imposing house and, as she looked out the window and saw Paris getting out of it, bidding farewell to his companion, Evangeline knew there would be no turning back.

Everything would happen that night.