The Duke's Arsenic Cure

Christian Farnese gripped my chin with his own hands and forced that glass of arsenical wine down my throat.

He hated me for taking what was never mine to take — for taking credit for what my older sister had done, for playing him like a fool for five whole years.

What he didn't know was that the cup of arsenical wine didn't take my life. On the contrary, it used poison to counter poison, curing the five years of mental sluggishness that had left me dull and slow.

The moment my mind cleared, I left without looking back.

And when he realized I was truly gone — Christian lost his mind.

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