My Ruin to You - Chapter 133

I had always wondered—when does a control-obsessed man suffer most?

Perhaps when things spiral beyond his grasp. Or when I slip through his fingers. Like now.

No matter how I thought about it, this was the only way to escape him. By imperial law, I should face execution—but as long as Valen’s heart clings to me, that won’t happen.

Yet he’ll be busy. He’ll have to prove my confession false, coax or threaten the nobles into alignment.

All I want is his absence. And if betrayal and uncontrollable rage follow—even better.

Though distant, his expression was crystal clear. Strange, how vividly I saw it. His eyes, strained to the point of bursting blood vessels, burned with predatory fury. His jaw, clenched tight enough to shatter, stood rigid. He didn’t even blink—just stared at me as if willing me to die. His smoldering gaze held only the silence before an explosion.

“Is it true you freed the bats?”

The Emperor, silent until now, spoke first. His voice was calm. Roseline, who had met Valen’s glare unflinching, bowed her head.

“Yes, Your Majesty. I did it.”

“Forgive me, Your Majesty, but her claim is false. As I said, I entered the clinic immediately after the outbreak—she wasn’t there.”

Edan cut in.

“Sir Edan arrived after the incident. He’s no eyewitness. I did it, Your Majesty.”

“My lady—!”

“Hush. Enough.”

The Emperor raised a hand, silencing Edan. Though he bowed instantly, his clenched fists betrayed his frustration.

“Why free the bats?”

“I pitied them, trapped in that cramped cage.”

A ripple spread through the stillness. No overt movement, but subtle shifts flickered across the nobles’ faces—eyebrows twitching, gazes wavering.

Some leaned back in their chairs with quiet sighs. Others scoffed under their breaths. Yet every reaction was cautious. Valen’s unbroken stare at Roseline, his lips sealed tight, radiated something ominous. No one dared demand punishment outright.

“The tragedy wouldn’t have happened without me. The guilt is too heavy to bear. I beg you—punish me, Your Majesty.”

On their behalf, Roseline knelt and pleaded for judgment. Her premeditated words flowed without hesitation.

For a brief moment, Valen’s eyes—so like his brother’s—twisted in something unreadable. The Emperor studied her with an odd gaze before sighing and shaking his head with a hollow laugh.

“Just as my brother is dear to me, you too are my precious subject—a star who could shine for this empire. If the burden ever grows too heavy, come to me.”

The wise Emperor understood exactly what Roseline had orchestrated. How cunning. With the situation spiraling so wildly out of control, even he had no choice but to play his part in the game she’d laid out. Her confession was too damning to simply sweep aside in favor of his brother.

“Take the lady to the dungeons.”

“Your Majesty.”

Valen, silent until now, rose and fixed his gaze on the dais. His eyes, sharp as a blade’s edge, burned with lethal intent.

“If her confession is true, this is a grave crime that undermines imperial order. No exceptions can be made. I understand the Grand Duke’s feelings, but he must wait until the investigation concludes.”

Do you not see that I’m buying you time?

The unspoken words were for Valen alone. Valen dissected his brother’s expression as if peeling back layers of intent—his gaze both insolent and dangerous. The Emperor met that cutting stare without flinching.

“I pray this time is for my sake. For the empire’s order.”

His words, spat through clenched teeth, were a warning. Don’t interfere. What an utterly ruthless brother. The Emperor didn’t rebuke him for words that bordered not just on insubordination, but sedition. For the empire’s order.

Rubbing his throbbing temples, the Emperor watched his brother stride away. Blood dripped in his wake, likely from wounds where his nails had dug into his palms. His fists were drenched. Tsk. The Emperor clicked his tongue and shook his head.

“Release her arms.”

The guards flanking Roseline flinched and immediately let go, retreating several steps under Valen’s glacial stare. Slowly, he approached Roseline. When the toe of his matte boot brushed the hem of her dress, he took her ringed hand in his, kneading it absently. The blood staining his palm smeared across her fingers and the gem.

“Congratulations, Roseline. You’ve won.”

“Thank you, Your Highness. It seems even moments like this come when death draws near.”

She shrugged, and he let out a disbelieving laugh.

“Don’t think this is over. Even if you orchestrated the plague yourself—nothing changes.”