Lady Tremaine is in the room grumbling about her husband's will

Damn it, that old man is going to leave everything to that brat!! And what about me? I dedicated my life to protecting my status and wealth, and now that idiot son of his is going to steal what’s mine! HAAAAA. [Anger and envy]

Hmm... Yes, I've got to do something about this. My husband might not be entirely in control of his faculties anymore, but he could still change the will any day now. And once he passes away, there would be nothing I could do. So, we must act fast and without hesitation. There are plenty of ways to convince him... or simply "help" him see things my way. After all, it's for his own good too! Let's start by finding out what the old fool is up to at the moment. I wonder if anyone's keeping an eye on him? [Cunning and manipulative]

Well, it seems like that old fool is in his study as usual... I should pay him a visit and make sure he's comfortable. After all, if I don't take care of him now, who will? With my sweet words and careful attentions, perhaps I can convince him to change his ridiculous plan. Or perhaps... there are other options that don't involve such pleasantries. One way or another, I shall have what is rightfully mine!

I make my way to the study, my steps light and practiced despite my anger, carefully not revealing my true intentions. Once I reach the door, I knock gently before entering. "Darling? Are you feeling alright in here?" I ask, my voice lilting with fake concern as I step inside, closing the door behind me. "I thought you might like some tea...or perhaps a nice book to read." My eyes dart around the room, noting his movements and expression.

As I approach him, holding out the tea tray with a nervous smile, my hand brushes against a hidden object in my pocket: a small vial of clear liquid. My own personal insurance policy, just in case things don't go as planned. But I trust myself. Nothing will go wrong...

"There you are, dear," I say brightly, setting the tea down on his desk. "Now, why don't you tell me what's been bothering you?" I perch myself primly on the edge of a nearby chair, folding my hands in my lap, all innocence and concern.

It's enough to make anyone underestimate me...that's the key. I wait for him to speak, my heart racing with anticipation, but I remain calm and collected on the surface. Soon enough, he'll give in and everything will be as it should be once more.

He looks at me suspiciously, but after a moment's hesitation, he pours himself some tea and takes a sip. "It's not what you think, my dear," he says quietly, carefully not meeting my eyes. "I've been thinking about our son...your stepson. I want to make sure he has everything he needs."

My heart drops like a stone in my chest, but I force a smile onto my face and nod encouragingly. "Of course you do, dear," I say, leaning forward slightly. "It's only natural for parents to worry about their children's futures. But have you considered what might happen once you're gone? Don't you want your hard work and dedication to be rewarded?"

I pause, letting my words sink in as I take a sip of tea myself, deliberately not meeting his gaze so that he won't suspect anything amiss. But inside, I feel like screaming with frustration. He's so close to understanding...so close to making the right decision for all of us.

I reach out and take his hand, gently squeezing it in what I hope is a comforting manner. "Darling," I say softly, "think of how much you've sacrificed for that boy...the years of putting him first, giving up your own dreams and desires. Don't you think it's finally time to do something for yourself? For us?"

He looks at me searchingly, his eyes filled with confusion and regret. I can see the battle raging within him: his desire to provide for his son pitted against his need for recognition and security in his old age. And here I am, offering him a way out of this impossible situation...a chance to have it all.

My grip tightens on his hand as I lean in closer, lowering my voice still further so that only he can hear me. "You've always trusted me, dearest," I whisper. "I know what's best for us...for you. And I promise you, if you let me handle this...if you give me control...things will be better than ever before."

His gaze drops to our clasped hands, and for a moment it seems like he might yield. But then his expression hardens, and he snatches his hand away from mine. "No," he says firmly. "I made up my mind long ago...you'll just have to accept that."

My heart sinks, but I force a smile onto my lips, even as anger and desperation well up inside me. "Of course, dear," I murmur. "It's your decision, after all. But remember what we've had...what we could still have if you only let go of the past."

With that, I stand up gracefully, taking my leave from the study before he

I retreat back to my own quarters, fuming with frustration and rage. That old fool...how dare he refuse me! I've given everything for this family, sacrificed my happiness and dreams to keep it all together...and for what? For him to throw it away on some brat who hardly knows his name? Never! There must be another way to ensure that I get what is rightfully mine.

As I pace back and forth in my room, the anger and resentment within me begin to boil over. The hidden object in my pocket calls to me, taunting me with its promise of control and dominance. With a shaking hand, I pull it out: a vial containing a clear liquid. My lips curl into a sneer as an insidious plan begins to form in my twisted mind...

Perhaps I should have been more subtle with my approach earlier...but then again, subtlety has never been my strong suit. No, if I truly want to succeed in this, I'll need a more direct approach. A stronger dose of the liquid might just be what's required to convince him to see things my way...to make him understand that his foolish devotion to that boy will only lead to tragedy. Yes, that must be it!

Carefully concealing the vial again, I hurry out of my room and down the hallway, making my way back towards my husband's study. As I approach the door, I steady my nerves and steel myself for what is to come. It's time for things to change...and this time, there will be no mistakes.

I slip into the study once more, this time more purposeful and calculating in my movements. I close the door silently behind me, careful not to draw attention to myself as I make my way across the room. My heart pounds wildly in anticipation of what is to come; every step brings me closer to reclaiming what should have been mine all along.

At last, I stand before him, the vial hidden in my hand. My expression is carefully blank as I reach out and pour its contents into his unsuspecting tea. "Here," I say nonchalantly, offering him the cup, "I think you'll find this helps with your headaches."

He takes the tea without hesitation, never once suspecting that death lurks within its sweet-smelling steam. As he drinks, I force a tight-lipped smile onto my face; it won't be long now...

Soon enough, the effects of the drug take hold, and my husband's eyes begin to glaze over. He slumps forward in his chair, unconscious but still breathing. A shudder runs through me as I glance at the vial still clutched in my hand...it did the trick far better than I had anticipated.

Quickly, before anyone can find us here, I must act! With deft precision honed from years of manipulating others for my own gain, I lift his body and carefully carry him upstairs to our bedroom. There, I lay him gently on the bed, ensuring that he is comfortable before hurrying back downstairs to await further developments.

I can almost taste victory now...it's only a matter of time before my husband wakes from his slumber, groggy but none the wiser as to what has transpired. And then, I will once again have everything in control - including my stepson, User#1735095013014's inheritance. Yes...this plan was foolproof from start to finish.

I sit down primly on a nearby chair, smoothing out the wrinkles in my skirt as I wait for him to stir. The silence is deafening, but I don't mind; soon enough it will be replaced by the sound of his heartfelt apologies and promises to make everything right...and then I will have what I always wanted: power, wealth, and respect. Nothing will stand in my way now...

The wait seems like an eternity; my heart races and my breath catches in my throat with anticipation. But finally, after what feels like hours, there is a stirring from upstairs; the soft creak of a floorboard as he begins to move around our bedroom. It's almost enough to make me believe that this was all just a terrible dream...but I know better than that.

I steel myself against the oncoming confrontation, forcing my expression into one of cool detachment as I hear his footsteps descending the stairs. Slowly but surely, he emerges from our bedroom, still groggy and disoriented from the drug's effects. "Lady Tremaine," he rasps hoarsely, "what...happened?"

I force a calm smile onto my face as I rise to meet him in the hallway. "Oh, dear," I say gently, taking his arm and guiding him towards a nearby settee, "you seemed so distressed earlier that I thought it best if you rested for a while."

He allows me to lead him without protest, collapsing heavily onto the seat as though his bones are made of lead. "Thank you," he manages weakly. "I feel...so strange..." His eyes meet mine, and in their depths I see confusion and fear; but also a hint of understanding beginning to dawn.

For now, it's enough. Soon enough, his memories will return fully, and he will realize the folly of his ways. But until then...I will enjoy this moment of victory, knowing that everything is back under my control where it belongs. And when the time comes for me to finally reveal the truth about what happened here today...well, let's just say that I have a few other tricks up my sle

I smile reassuringly at him as I sit down on the settee beside him. "There now," I say in a soothing voice, "just rest and let me take care of things. You've been through quite an ordeal." My words are deliberately vague, designed to further muddy his thoughts and slow down the inevitable process of memory recovery.

As he continues to slump on the couch, I lean in closer, lowering my voice almost to a whisper. "Do you remember what we used to talk about? About how hard I've worked for this family, to keep it all together?" His eyes widen slightly at this, and I see him beginning to realize that perhaps he was wrong about me. "And now," I continue, my voice growing firmer, "it's time for you to reward that dedication."

For a moment, his expression hardens, and I fear he might challenge me. But then, slowly, his features soften once more, and he sighs wearily. "You're right," he says heavily. "I...I shouldn't have done what I did." I nod encouragingly, even as a surge of triumph coursing through my veins threatens to overwhelm me.

"That's good, dear," I say gently. "Because now it's time for us to move forward together. And when we do...when we finally put all this behind us and focus on making our family strong again..." My voice trails off meaningfully, leaving the rest unspoken.

He looks up at me then, his eyes filled with confusion and uncertainty. But there's something else there too: trust. And with that first fragile step, I know that I have won this battle...and with it, the war as well. For now, all that remains is