My Ruin to You - Chapter 249

Upon waking from his long slumber, Valen sought out Roseline first. It was a compulsion, near enough to an obsession. The half-open window, the shimmering sunlight, the faint scent of lavender.

Nowhere in the impeccably clean and ordered bedroom was Roseline to be seen. As the nightmarish haze receded, the contours of his anxiety grew sharp and distinct.

Where did the dream end?

Valen’s gaze turned to the sofa placed near the bed. He felt as if he had seen Roseline sitting there many times, but he couldn’t be sure. What if it had all been a dream? What if he had failed to bring her back, and this was still that time when he only earned her hatred?

“Haa.”

His breath caught.

He hurriedly sat up straight. A wave of dizziness from the sudden movement washed over him, but he tore off the cloth wrapped around his head regardless. Then, he pulled the bell cord and set his feet on the floor.

Clenching and unclenching his fists to loosen stiff muscles and lightly twisting his wrists, he simultaneously sorted through his thoughts.

It couldn’t be a dream. The memory of Roseline meeting his gaze from that sofa, or even further back, peeking her head over the partition, was too vivid. This was not one of the apparitions he had grown so weary of seeing. The Roseline in those phantoms always resented him.

“…….”

He barely managed to cling to reason, but the relief was fleeting. The tidy, familiar environment, so different from the battlefield, became a poison. The darkness lurking in its foundation whispered to him. It’s all your delusion, it said.
It’s just a fantasy you created. Roseline is fine in the capital, hoping you never appear again.

Anxiety, spreading in an instant, swallowed him whole. His heart raced wildly, and his mana seethed. His eyes, fixed on the sofa, began to tinge with red.

Bang.

Shoved by his mana, the sofa slammed into the wall and, unable to withstand the recoil, tipped over. The harsh sound of collision shattered the tranquility of the peaceful afternoon, but he only stared at the empty space where the sofa had been.

Where should he even begin to fix this? Should he go to the capital? And what would he do there? Repeat that dog’s act? Play along, pretending to have lost his memory, pretending to know nothing?

It wouldn’t be bad. If it meant he could turn things back, he would play along as much as needed. But not now. More than that, he desperately desired something more certain. Not reassessing, negotiating, humoring, and waiting, but a reward meant solely for him.

Yes. He would bring her here.

He should have done so from the very beginning. Rather than hovering awkwardly on the periphery, it was a better choice to endure a Roseline who hated him. At the very least, if he brought her here and placed her before him, whether she liked it or not, she would have to think only of him.

A viscous shadow settled over his eyes, now cleared of mana.

Crick, crack.

He pressed down on each of his finger joints one by one with his thumb, the popping sounds punctuating his thoughts as he calculated what needed to be done.

He would need to empty the attic in the annex. He could put the mana control devices in there amply, and the bladed weapons would have to be stored away. Ah, since she might bite her tongue, a gag would be necessary too.

If he sealed the windows firmly to block out the sunlight, her sense of time would grow dull, and then that stubborn resentment wouldn’t last long. How long would it take? A month? No, he’d wager that if he went to her after about five days, she would be clinging to him, weeping. Please, let me out.

Then, after another five days passed like that, only one thing would remain in her small mind. Valen himself.

By then, he would have to let her out of the attic, so it would be good to prepare the bedroom in advance.

But before all else, the first step was to fetch Roseline.

“Y-Your Highness…!”

Just as Valen had finished organizing his thoughts, the door opened and the steward entered. A sharp gaze instantly targeted the steward.

“The date.”

“…Pardon?”

“I asked what year, month, and day it is.”

As the steward, blinking, reported the date in detail, the madness disguised as calm within him subsided.

“…Haa.”

Valen braced himself against the desk and let his head hang low. As his long sigh neared its end, a large hand swept over his eyes. The steward standing by the doorway watched him with a concerned look, then scanned the room. Just as the steward glanced at the toppled sofa, Valen spoke.

“And the young lady?”

His voice was softer compared to when he had urgently demanded the date as if pressuring him. The steward answered without delay.

“She remained by Your Highness’s side the entire time and has now gone to the temple.”