To the Perfect Duke

Mad Edith.
You killed my mother and turned me into a madwoman.
I knew, yet there was nothing I could do.
“We’ll simply enjoy dating until the day of our wedding. Next time we meet, we’ll hold hands, and by the fourth meeting, we’ll share a light kiss.”
That was when you foolishly gave me an opening.
Marriage to the Duke of Myers, famed for his perfection in all things.
“You and I shall set a date ourselves, to decide the day we enter the bedchamber together. After that, perhaps in half a year, it would be best to have a child.”
“Why do you want a child from me?”
“If a child born of a madwoman is installed as the heir apparent, then no one will bother with the House of Myers.”
A marriage built on mutual exploitation may never be warm, but that’s fine.
If I can make you live in hell without even realizing it is hell, then there is nothing I won’t do.
So smile, Reynolds.
Until I pave the road before you that leads straight into the fires of hell.