My Ruin to You - Chapter 197

Valen, who had appeared with Merrick, Edan, and the section leader in tow, was different from his recent self, who would send strange signals whenever their eyes met. His plain, monotonous, dark-colored military uniform, devoid of decoration, combined with his sharp, cool features to create an intimidating presence. He was merely standing still about ten paces away, not even close, and had only spoken a few words, yet a heavy atmosphere slowly tightened around Mür’s neck.

“…Y-Your Highness, the Grand Duke.”

Mür promptly placed his hand over his chest and assumed a formal posture. He even angled his body slightly in the direction Valen stood. The aggressive momentum with which he had been tearing into Roseline and Malsen was nowhere to be seen; he now resembled a docile animal that had encountered its natural predator. Swallowing a rising, incredulous laugh, Roseline bowed her head along with him.

“Raise your head.”

Mür’s gaze, which had been fixed on the ground, cautiously turned toward the Grand Duke. Valen’s eyes swept coldly over the two of them standing side-by-side, then he gestured for Mür to come forward. Mür hurried to approach him like a startled colt, the hem of his white robe swishing past Roseline’s field of vision. For a moment, she stared blankly at it, but soon found herself gazing at Mür’s back—now turned to her—and Valen beyond him.

“Your name.”

“This lowly one is Cloaude Mür, Your Highness.”

“I see. Lord Mür.”

“Yes, Your Highness.”

“Explain what you were doing.”

“Speaking of this is an impertinence, but the trainee was acting recklessly, showing no understanding of military orders or the battlefield, so I was in the process of correcting their behavior.”

“Correcting their behavior.”

“Yes, Your Highness.”

Valen wore a faint, derisive smile, as if he had heard something utterly absurd.

“Who do you think you are?”

“…Pardon?”

Caught off guard by the unexpected question, Mür looked up dazedly. But the cold, pressing gaze was so intense that his head bowed again as if something were forcing it down from behind.

Naturally, the Grand Duke did not answer Mür’s question. So, Mür racked his brain to understand the intent behind the Grand Duke’s words. Meanwhile, Roseline, standing at a distance, was frantically signaling to Valen with her eyes and even mouthing words. Don’t interfere. Go on your way.

Valen getting involved would do no good. Why should the Grand Duke step into a squabble between those far lower in rank? It would only make things bigger and noisier.

“Hah.”

Valen, who had been quietly watching the shape of Roseline’s mouth, let out a short, incredulous laugh as he shook his head. As if he couldn’t believe it.

His uncomfortable state of mind was clearly revealed in his repeatedly clenching and unclenching hand. Valen stared at a flag fluttering in the wind, running his tongue over the inside of his cheek. Roseline, watching the bulge in his cheek and his eyes that seemed ready to explode, let out a deliberate cough. His dark pupils immediately turned toward her. When their eyes met, Roseline mouthed the words again. Go.

“Lord Mür.”

Valen spoke while staring directly at Roseline. Mür, his head bowed, didn’t know where Valen’s gaze was fixed and obediently replied, “Yes, Your Highness.”

“Don’t raise your hand.”

“…Yes, I will remember.”

“Good. Remember that. Don’t make me have to correct your behavior.”

A chilling gaze swept over Mür’s mouth, neck, and wrists in turn. Pressured by the aura, Mür touched his own wrist and licked his lips. He seemed to want to say something, but Valen, having no intention of hearing his reply, called to Merrick standing behind him.

“The young lady must have been quite startled. See to her, Lord Merrick.”

“Yes, Your Highness.”

With a complicated glance, Valen briefly swept his eyes over Roseline before turning to leave. Edan and the section leader, who had been observing the situation behind him, also moved to follow. Edan, who couldn’t even imagine a man—let alone a knight—raising his hand to a woman, shot Mür a look of contempt as he passed. The Duchy’s Knight Commander, Pierreden, clicked his tongue disdainfully and stopped in front of Mür. Perhaps because he was obscured by the Commander’s large frame, Mür looked even more gaunt.

“What a pathetic fellow. Come with me.”
“…Yes, Commander.”

Only after glaring at Roseline did Mür follow the Commander. Roseline let out a hollow laugh, finding it absurd how Mür insisted on asserting his authority only over those he perceived as beneath him until the very end.

“Shall we go?”

Merrick spoke. Roseline, who had been watching Mür’s retreating back, turned her head. Beyond Merrick’s stern expression, she could see Valen walking away. Honestly, it was unexpected. She had desperately tried to stop him, thinking his intervention would only escalate things, but she hadn’t actually expected him to listen.

She had braced for the worst—him interpreting her plea as ‘Okay, got it’ and then wrenching Mür’s wrist, or beheading him, or, true to a ruler’s mindset, pushing the responsibility up the chain and punishing the Commander. But Valen had simply walked away. For him, that was ‘simply walking away.’