My Ruin to You - Chapter 105

“Make way for His Highness the Grand Duke! Clear the path!”

The soldier leading the way shouted loudly. His voice was so booming that Roseline flinched and nearly jumped every time he yelled. After the same thing happened about three times, a faint frown formed between Valen’s brows.

“Walk quietly.”
“Yes, Your Highness!”

Even his reply was thunderous. It seemed the unexpected encounter with royalty had left him extremely tense. His stiffened arms and legs moved rigidly as he walked, his entire back visibly tense. Roseline watched his awkward posture with pity before glancing around.

The situation inside the castle wasn’t much better. They had barely passed the gates, but there was no proper place to set foot. Some sat slumped on the cold ground, others walked barefoot through the streets, and many carried not even a single bundle.

They struggled to rise and offer their respects, but the path through the cracks of despair was anything but dignified. Roseline’s gaze gradually fell to the ground as well. A creeping unease settled over her—the fear that someone might suddenly leap up and shout, “It’s the Manifestor of the Healing Sanctuary!” Even though there was no way they could recognize her.

“Greetings to Your Highness the Grand Duke. May the light of glory follow you.”

When they arrived in front of the count’s residence, the count himself rushed out breathlessly and bowed his head. The countess and the household followed suit. The count was a well-built middle-aged man, his plumpness giving him a kindly appearance.

“It’s been a while.”
“Yes, Your Highness. When we heard you had personally led your troops to the plague-stricken lands, we were so worried we couldn’t sleep at night. Seeing you unharmed now fills us with immeasurable relief.”

“If you were that concerned, you could have at least sent reinforcements.”
“…That is—”
“I’m joking.”

Though the one who made the remark wore a composed expression, the count forced a servile smile, as if he had just heard something amusing.

“Move and you’ll get hurt.”

The words were for Roseline. Valen whispered in a low voice, not giving her a chance to respond before pulling her tightly against him and dismounting. The moment her feet touched the ground, her balance wavered slightly, but a firm, familiar grip steadied her.

“Thank you, Your Highness.”

Roseline, mindful of their surroundings, carefully offered her thanks. Valen let out a ringing laugh, deliberately widening his eyes.

“So polite now.”

It was a teasing remark—mocking her for suddenly being courteous. To the onlookers, it merely seemed like an affectionate lover who couldn’t let even a trivial comment from his beloved pass by unnoticed. The count’s eyes darted about nervously.

“Ah, that must be… the…!”

He took a step forward to greet her but trailed off awkwardly. He had heard rumors—nothing but slander—about whether she was that woman. That she was a born seductress, that she had wrapped the Grand Duke around her finger to extract all kinds of wealth, that she was ruthlessly cunning… things like that.

The source of the rumors was the countess, and half of them could be dismissed. They were words spoken by those who didn’t know the Grand Duke—as if he could ever be wrapped around someone’s skirts.

“……It’s a pleasure to meet you. I am Celodienne.”

Moreover, the young lady, fumbling through her greeting with her hood pulled up, was nothing like the rumors. Her voice trembled faintly. Far from being ruthless, she seemed more like a lost kitten. Such was the jealousy of women.

The silence stretched as these thoughts ran through his mind. Roseline, already hyperaware of the attention, peeked cautiously through the gap in her hood. Her gaze met the count’s narrowed, assessing eyes first, then the countess’s sharp glare behind him.

“…….”

For some reason, she felt intimidated. Hostile stares were an everyday occurrence in the capital, and she would usually toss her hair behind her ear and deliberately shrug her shoulders, provoking them further. But now, like a mouse cornered by a predator, she could only shrink further into her hood.

“Rodelac.”

“……Huh? Ah—yes, Your Highness.”

“Do you intend to ignore the lady’s greeting?”

His expression was as cold as his voice. Even omitting the honorific was unusual. Sensing the sharp shift in atmosphere, Rodelac quickly bowed his head.

“My apologies. Please forgive my discourtesy.”

“Your apology isn’t meant for me.”

“I-I don’t mind, Your Highness.”

Not wanting to stir trouble, Roseline quickly grabbed Valen’s arm and gave it a small, pleading shake. His icy gaze, which had been fixed on the count and countess, shifted to her. Though her small face was almost entirely hidden under the hood—only her lips, bitten and abused, were visible—his hardened expression softened slightly.

“I was merely lost in thought, wondering how best to accommodate our guests. My delayed response was inexcusable. Please forgive me, my lady.”