My Ruin to You - Chapter 112

“I thought—I thought you were thinking of something else and just—”

He smoothed away her flustered expression and approached her leisurely, covering her exposed back with his own warmth as he guided her toward the bathroom.

“I do want to, so no need to feel guilty about it.”

With an air of exaggerated generosity, Valen pressed a kiss to Roseline’s ear.

“I’d wash you myself, but I don’t trust my self-control.”

“……”

“If you can’t manage alone, I’ll help.”

“No. Absolutely not. Thank you.”

Roseline muttered incoherently before shutting the bathroom door behind her.

◇◇◇

By the time she emerged, dressed in the nightgown and robe left for her, dinner had been laid out on the tea table—herb-roasted duck. The chef’s skill wasn’t an empty boast; the food was excellent, but her appetite was nonexistent. Then again, after that ordeal, it’d be stranger if she had an appetite. Valen, however, seemed distinctly unimpressed when Roseline soon set down her fork.

“Do I need to add salt for you to eat?”

He clicked his tongue, putting down his own utensils—a jab at how she’d nearly finished the salted soup earlier but now left proper food untouched.

“I wasn’t planning to finish that soup either,” Roseline muttered.

“And you wouldn’t have told me, would you?”

“How am I supposed to report every little thing?”

“By speaking. How else would I know?”

“…Back in the capital, you pretended not to notice when I stayed quiet.”

“And how would you have reacted if I’d pointed it out? Hm?”

The retort was too accurate to argue with. Roseline rolled her eyes awkwardly, prompting a silent laugh from Valen as he picked up his fork again. Spearing a piece of meat, he held it to her lips and arched a brow.

“You said you were hungry. One more bite.”

Trapped by her own words, Roseline obediently opened her mouth. But one bite became two, then three. Only after clearing half her plate did he finally seem satisfied, leaning back with a lazy stretch.

Once the meal was cleared away, it was Valen’s turn to wash up. The water had cooled, but he didn’t care—though he notably left the bathroom door ajar.

At one point, while drying her hair by the fireplace, Roseline shifted slightly. As if sensing it through the walls, Valen appeared in the doorway, dripping wet, and asked where she was going. The sudden voice startled her once, his icy gaze startled her twice, and his fully exposed, water-slicked body startled her thrice.

“I-I was just getting water.”

At her flustered excuse, Valen—leaning against the doorframe—nodded as if to say fair enough. But he didn’t move until Roseline had drunk her water and returned to the fireplace.

“Wait. Don’t go anywhere.”

“Yes.”

Unable to bring herself to look directly at Valen’s naked form, Roseline stared fixedly at the ceiling and nodded vigorously. Only then did the tension in his expression ease slightly.

Before long, Valen—now fully dressed—approached her, shaking water from his damp hair. Despite his own hair being far wetter, he began drying Roseline’s instead, all while questioning her about the past two days. She recounted everything she could remember, and when she mentioned Toma’s involvement in human trafficking, the warmth from the fireplace did nothing to dispel the sudden chill radiating from behind her.

“If I hadn’t met that elderly couple, things would’ve been dire. They were so kind and gentle. I have to repay their kindness somehow…”

“With all the necklaces you’ve undone for people, you’d think you’d be drowning in them by now.”

“How did you know?”

Roseline whipped around to face him. Valen set aside the damp towel, pulled her onto his lap, and tapped her collarbone.

“It’s not there.”

His observation was uncanny.

“Since we’re on the topic—was that necklace from Shuniel too?”

His voice was sharp, as if the thought had been nagging at him, and a frosty glint passed through his eyes. Roseline glanced down at the faint, lingering marks of snake fangs before nodding slowly. It had been the snake who brought the necklace, but even she knew how absurd that sounded.

“I didn’t realize you two had grown so close.”

“She helped me a lot when I was struggling. She’s a good person.”

Shuniel’s name was one she’d nearly forgotten in the struggle to survive each day. But now, like an unsealed box, memories of her resurfaced, weighing on Roseline’s heart. She worried Shuniel might be anxious, not even knowing whether Roseline was alive.

Just as she resolved to send a letter tomorrow, Valen cupped her chin and turned her face back to his, as if realigning her focus.

“And what about me?”

His voice was low, almost rough. Roseline blinked.

“You…?”

“Did I not help you?”

The question was absurd—of course he had, in ways she couldn’t begin to count—but the intensity in his gaze demanded more than an automatic answer.

Roseline hesitated, then reached up to brush a damp strand of hair from his forehead.

“You,” she said quietly, “are the reason I could be helped at all.”

Valen exhaled sharply, as if the words had struck deeper than expected. Then, with a muttered “Damn right,” he pulled her into a crushing embrace, his damp hair cool against her cheek.

Outside, the wind howled—but for the first time in days, Roseline felt warm.