My Ruin to You - Chapter 210

Malsen and Schnitzel, who had been restless with worry since Roseline took the test, finally burst into tears on the morning of her deployment. Roseline tried to comfort them with an awkward smile, only to be scolded severely for being emotionally barren.

In my past life, it was the plague; in this life, it’s war. My life never flows easily, it’s truly absurd. But since there’s one more person crying for me as I head to a place of mortal danger, it seems I’ve lived better in this life than the last.

“We wish you victory. Return safely.”

The Manifestors at the healing center also added their words with somber expressions. Giorno’s prediction that Roseline’s participation would boost morale was only half correct. The news that the young lady, who was to become the Grand Duchess, was deploying as a Tara certainly boosted the morale of the knights entering combat, but the atmosphere in the rear was not so good. As she was replacing a fallen Tara, concern for Roseline’s safety followed closely.

Especially among the healing-types, resentment toward Giorno was fierce. Complaints erupted, like ‘If the Tara was so important, why didn’t you save them before they died?’ or ‘What do you expect from an offensive Manifestor, they’re so selfish.’ Roseline, who had been solely focused on training since passing the test, belatedly grasped the situation and stepped in to quell the discontent.

‘Sir Giorno did suggest it, but it was my choice, so please don’t blame him. I wanted to do it too.’

The censure toward Giorno stopped, but for some reason, they began praising Roseline instead. True to the nature of an open secret, they merely nodded in her presence, but behind her back, they unanimously praised her character—saying it was fitting for a Grand Duchess, lauding her ability to embrace others and her sublime sacrifice.

As always, the words circulating behind her back reached Roseline’s ears. Hearing the ridiculous rumors through Malsen, Roseline couldn’t hide her bewildered expression.

Amidst all this commotion, Valen remained silently in his place. He did not summon Roseline. He would only watch her quietly from a distance as she trained in the drill grounds before turning away.

She should have felt relieved that he was neither acknowledging her nor speaking to her, thus causing less trouble, but the sight of his retreating back left her with a disagreeable feeling. It was hard to describe. It felt grating, and she was inexplicably unsettled.

It wasn’t until the departure ceremony that Valen finally stood before Roseline. The attention of the long, lined-up ranks focused on the two facing each other. His uniform was impeccably perfect, but his complexion, worn from recent sleeplessness, bore a faint shadow of haggard worry.

“Did you sleep well?”

“Yes, Your Highness.”

“That’s fortunate.”

He pulled his chapped lips upward. But after his gaze thoroughly scanned her combat uniform, the faint smile vanished without a trace.

His sigh was long. Staring fixedly at the brooch on Roseline’s uniform, he clenched his still-unhealed hand tightly and spoke.

“This is the last time. If you’ve changed your mind, even now, tell me.”

“……”

“I’ll send you back to the capital. I’ll take full responsibility so that not a speck of dishonor touches you. So, think again, Roseline.”

It was a plea from a heart worn thin, burned out, with not even ashes remaining. Roseline, who had been staring intently at his bandaged hand, finally met his eyes.

“I will return, Your Highness.”

Her reply was bitterly disappointing. Yet, amidst the gnawing anxiety, he found the met gaze willing, the answer so quintessentially Roseline that it was endearing. Valen simply looked at her, as if to engrave her image.

If a promise to let her go could change this stubborn woman’s mind, he might have considered it, but that one thing was something he could absolutely never relinquish. So, Valen gave something else instead.

Keeping his gaze fixed on Roseline as if this moment were their last, he untied the cord wrapped around the inside of his uniform wrist. It was the ribbon Roseline had never managed to get back that day. A small magic stone was attached to its end.

“Your hand.”

Roseline, who had been looking down at the ribbon with wide eyes, held out her hand as if enchanted. Valen grasped her small hand firmly once, then wrapped the ribbon around her wrist.

“It’s everything I have.”
“……”
“Return safely and give it back to me.”

For a moment, she alternated her gaze between his slowly withdrawing hand and the ribbon wrapped around her combat uniform like a protective charm. Feeling inexplicably choked up, Roseline awkwardly smoothed the ribbon with her hand and simply nodded.

Even though he had said all he needed to say, Valen found it hard to turn away. He looked at Roseline for a long time before reluctantly turning his back. He did not forget to exchange a silent glance with Giorno and Merrick standing near Roseline. Understanding the solemn command contained in that brief look, they bowed their heads in acknowledgment.

After Roseline’s departure, Valen did not sleep a wink. The tactic of dividing the main force and the charge unit to surround the enemy was successful, and news of victories in large and small battles heated the camp daily. But victory did not equate to Roseline’s safety.

One day, he donned his armor intending to go to where Roseline was; another day, he grew frantic over the sparse news and shattered all the furnishings in his tent. Only upon receiving word that Roseline was safe and competently fulfilling her role would he finally let out a sigh of relief.

It took five days to completely drive out the enemy. Valen ordered the return of some troops, which, of course, included Roseline.

But Roseline did not return.

“……They were all killed in action, Your Highness.”

The messenger who delivered the dire news carefully placed Roseline’s soot-stained combat uniform and the half-burnt ribbon on the table. Valen, tracing these remnants of Roseline with his eyes, finally lost consciousness.