My Ruin to You - Chapter 114

Perhaps the tea hadn’t just been a dream.

The sight of the antique teacup filled with reddish liquid made her mouth dry, recalling last night’s torment. She stared blankly at it before glancing across the table at the count’s daughter.

‘If it’s not too much trouble… might I have a moment of your time?’

The question had come tentatively near the end of breakfast, preserved by the count’s desperate efforts. Roseline instinctively looked to Valen.

Unlike when they were alone, his gaze swept over her and the girl with detached indifference before he shrugged—do what you want. Honestly, she’d rather not. The daughter had been friendly last night, but then again, her mother had been confined afterward.

While Roseline saw it as just deserts, the girl surely felt differently. What could they possibly have to discuss?

‘I’ve made this awkward for you, haven’t I?’

Noticing Roseline’s reluctance, the girl’s shoulders visibly slumped, her expression turning bleak.

‘Should I… go now?’

‘Really?’

The impulsive reply made the girl brighten instantly. She was definitely plotting something.

‘You’re going?’

Valen’s eyes narrowed. He set his utensils down with a clatter, his displeasure plain—as if her choice were the wrong one.

“Unpredictable as ever.”

Those were exactly the words Roseline wanted to say. She had no idea why he was being so capricious, but conscious of their audience, she sought his permission anyway.

“I’ll be back soon.”

“No.”

“…Why not?”

“Who knows what she’ll—”

“Here, try this, Your Highness.”

Roseline quickly stuffed a piece of bread into his mouth and gripped his hand tightly under the table. Whatever he’d been about to say would’ve shattered the precarious peace—something like Do you really think I’d let you go alone when she could try anything? or Have you learned nothing?

“…Fine. Go.”

He chewed the bread like it was leather, glaring at her before finally relenting with a curt nod. But Roseline hesitated—his reluctant permissions usually came with consequences. Yet this time, he simply opened his mouth again, eyeing another piece of bread expectantly. Ah. Apparently, being fed pleased him more than she’d realized.

The count, who’d been holding his breath, exhaled in relief and launched into effusive compliments—What a perfect pair! A sight for sore eyes! Like a painting come to life!—flattery so thick it could’ve been spread on toast.

Breakfast ended more amicably than last night’s disaster. Valen left for the study with the count, while Roseline followed the young lady to a second-floor parlor.

“I don’t know how to apologize for yesterday. I’m truly sorry, my lady.”

Contrary to Roseline’s suspicions of ulterior motives, the girl bowed deeply in genuine contrition.

“My uncle and mother were chasing delusions. They wanted Marguerite to become Grand Duchess—they think you stole her chance.”

The name rang a bell. When Roseline’s eyes narrowed, the girl added helpfully,

“My uncle is Count Malsen.”

“…Ah.”

Roseline lowered her head to hide her grimace. Separate from her personal grievances, it seemed twisted personalities were a Malsen family tradition. Not that she’d say so to the girl before her, who carried that bloodline.

“I’m furious and heartbroken about it all. Let me apologize on my mother’s behalf.”

“You’ve nothing to apologize for. If anything, I’m the one who caused trouble.”

“You’re as kind as silk, my lady. But yesterday wasn’t your fault—in fact, it was your intervention that softened His Highness’s wrath. My father and I are deeply grateful. You’re our family’s savior.”

“That’s not true. I did nothing.”

“Why such modest words? Your mere presence is a blessing. We’re overjoyed you’ve visited Molin.”

Roseline wanted to dismiss it as polite formality, but something in the girl’s gaze felt… off. Her face was sweet as a wildflower, yet beneath that innocence flickered something unsettling—a glint of madness entirely unlike Valen’s.