My Ruin to You - Chapter 138

Some quietly clasped their hands together, while others, ultimately unable to turn their backs, stood for a long time, unable to leave.

Only after her death was Roseline cleared of the stigma directed at her.

Valen was simply indifferent to all of this. After that day, Valen did not set a single foot outside the estate. Documents requiring his review piled up like a mountain. Yet, he gave no instructions. He merely remained holed up in the dark bedroom, keeping watch by Roseline’s side.

“It’s time to wake up, Roseline.”

A gloomy voice drifted through the darkness. Valen, sitting on the edge of the bed,

He softly stroked the cheek of Roseline, who lay with her eyes closed as if in a peaceful slumber. Though her cold, stiff cheek held no warmth, she looked so serene it seemed she might open her eyes at any moment.

Yes, it’s just a long sleep. Once she opens her eyes, once she just opens her eyes, everything will be alright.

“How long are you going to sleep? Hmm?”

Valen pressed his lips to her cold forehead as if to wake the sleeping Roseline. Naturally, Roseline did not stir in the slightest.

Today marked the tenth day. He was steadily dying inside. For the first few days, he had summoned every healing-affinity Manifestor to pour their magic into her, but unfortunately, there was no way to bring back the dead. For the next few days, he even called in soothsayers and tried every spell. He didn’t originally believe in superstitions, but he was prepared to sell even his soul if it meant Roseline would just open her eyes.

Yet, even that desperation could not rouse Roseline from her long sleep.

“You told me to hurt. You need to see how much I’m hurting.”

There was no response. It was a stark contrast to how she used to shriek if he even touched her ear.

His hot sigh dispersed over Roseline’s chilled skin. The hollow behind her ear, her hair, her nape, her collarbone. His nose, which had grown sharper over the past few days, wandered here and there, chasing the familiar scent of her, but with each passing day, her scent grew fainter. Holding Roseline close, he closed his eyes as if collapsing and recalled a day from the past.

‘Is not winning without fighting the most valuable victory? I have a clever plan, Your Highness.’

The Marquis had suddenly visited, packaging his ambition as a clever strategy and making a proposal. Having already received reports about his experiments through agents planted in the Marquis’s domain, it wasn’t particularly surprising.

‘Spread the plague in the lands of the savages. Once infected, they will crave the blood of the living and tear each other apart themselves. Why should Your Highness stain your hands? They fear fire, so after spreading the plague sufficiently, you need only toss in a few embers. Then the justification will follow naturally.’

Setting fire to the savages’ lands without cause would be massacre, but in a disaster situation like a plague, a justification emerges. That was what the Marquis was dangling.

‘What should I do? It doesn’t appeal to me.’

‘…….’

‘I fully understand your loyalty. Though I don’t know when loyalty might turn into treason.’

‘Y-Your Highness……!’

‘If you’ve said all you have to say, you may rise.’

It was the day he was to meet Roseline. It was frustrating that he couldn’t see her whenever he wanted, but he intended to wait until her graduation, and the academy was perfect for keeping an innocent woman confined. The high walls strictly blocked external access, and the stiff-necked nobility made Roseline feel intimidated. It was perfect isolation.

One year, two years, and then three years.

Unlike his growing affection with each passing year, Roseline appeared increasingly weary, but he believed it was a problem that would be solved once she graduated and he brought her to the Duchy. When he learned she harbored misguided hopes like joining Belharni or the Magical Affairs Bureau, it wasn’t exactly pleasant, but he also considered that a matter of time would resolve.

Having lost her parents early and grown up under a stepmother, Roseline was particularly vulnerable to things that showed her affection and found it difficult to refuse. He had assumed she would accept their marriage in the same way.

‘……I’m sorry, Your Highness. I cannot marry you.’

The day Roseline refused his proposal, he truly recalled the Marquis for the first time in a long while. To be precise, he recalled the Marquis’s shoddy experiment.