My Ruin to You - Chapter 15

It was her first time in the headmaster’s office.

Owl sculptures symbolizing wisdom and honor gazed down at them. The headmaster offered Valen the seat of honor on the sofa, but he sat down beside Roseline instead. Unable to seat himself above the Grand Duke, the headmaster took the opposite seat, with Roseline’s advisor sitting beside him.

Vermouth, who arrived late, wasn’t even given a seat to sit in. Fidgeting with clasped hands like a guilty man, he kept stealing glances at Roseline. With no way to know how much she had confessed to her illustrious lover, the air was thick with unease.

“As mentioned in my letter, there was a minor disturbance on campus recently.”

Roseline’s head slowly turned. Though it was now evident Valen had lied about not knowing the purpose of the meeting, he remained shameless. When their eyes met, he merely shrugged lightly and winked one eye.

“Lady Celodienne used magic to attack Young Master Vermouth. While using magic outside one’s affinity violates school regulations, it’s also an act that poses lethal risks to the caster herself—something the young lady must have been well aware of. Yet we presumed there must have been extenuating circumstances that compelled her to use magic regardless. Knowing it was impertinent, we nevertheless requested Your Grace’s visit.”

“How utterly ridiculous.”

The mischievous expression from moments ago had vanished, leaving only a scathing smirk. Caught off guard by this reaction, visible confusion spread across the headmaster’s wrinkled face. Leaning deep into the sofa, Valen crossed his long legs.

“Let me ask you this. If I ordered that dim-witted young master’s tongue cut out, would you do it?”

The headmaster couldn’t respond. He could only roll his eyes, trying to discern whether Valen’s flatly delivered words were a joke or genuine. Meanwhile, the “dim-witted young master” Vermouth had turned deathly pale. The gleam in his eyes that had sparkled while harassing Roseline now turned dull and turbid.

“P-please forgive me, Your Grace! I beg for your mercy…!”

Vermouth fell to his knees. His hands planted on the floor trembled along with his pleading voice. Yet the absolute ruler who could grant mercy didn’t even grant him a passing glance—as if Vermouth didn’t even exist in this space.

Roseline found herself shrinking as well. A sharp tension weighed heavily on her shoulders. The overwhelming pressure radiating from right beside her crushed even her firm determination to prevent Valen’s interference at all costs.

Slightly curling the hands she had neatly placed on her lap, Roseline stole a glance at the man beside her.

That steep nose bridge and restrained jawline belonged to the man she knew so well, yet somehow he felt distant now. Looking back, she had only ever seen others worshipping him—this was the first time she was witnessing Valen wielding his power himself.

In the place where I spent most of my time, in the headmaster’s office where he wouldn’t even have been allowed to enter if not for who he was, watching Valen manipulate the once-admired and respected headmaster with just a few words—somehow, it made me realize all over again just how far beyond me he truly was.

“Since my question seems too difficult, I won’t ask again.”

The headmaster never managed to produce an answer, and it was Valen who broke the brief silence. The headmaster’s relief at dodging the difficult question was palpable, even reaching Roseline across from him. Though, seeing her teacher grovel wasn’t exactly comforting either way.

“Do you consult your sponsors about school regulations as well?”

His voice was icy. Both the headmaster, who had just found his relief, and Roseline, who had been gauging the atmosphere, froze. The implication was clear.

“Why are you asking me about matters that happen within your own Academy?”

It was unexpected. Not in a disappointing way—just genuinely bewildering. Why is he acting like this all of a sudden?

“That would be improper, Your Grace. If I’ve caused you concern, I deeply apologize, but that was not my intention. In my limited understanding, since Lady Celodienne’s family is far away, I thought perhaps Your Grace, as her guardian, might offer guidance so that we could—”

“That makes even less sense. I may be Roseline’s lover, but I’m not her family.”

“……”

“Is it your educational policy to summon students’ lovers now?”

“N-no, of course not! That’s absolutely not—”

“Not this, not that. What exactly do you want?”

The more Valen let his irritation show, the colder the air grew. The headmaster fidgeted helplessly, repeating apologies like a broken record. Vermouth, who had been prostrating himself as if ready to lick Valen’s shoes, cautiously straightened his back, sensing an opportunity. Despite the frosty tension, he seemed relieved by the Grand Duke’s refusal to intervene—as if drawing a line between himself and Roseline. Just as Roseline was inwardly scoffing at his shameless opportunism—

“Roseline.”

Valen’s voice pulled her gaze back to him.

“Y-yes?”

“You must be uncomfortable. There’s no need to stay.”

He patted the back of her hand, his tone oddly gentle. It was unclear whether it was consideration or an order. When Roseline hesitated, he added in a near-whisper.