My Ruin to You - Chapter 32

“Stop worrying about me and just go. And don’t you dare sleep in some back alley to save money—get a proper inn.”

She pressed a small pouch into Lina’s hands—half the coin from yesterday’s jewelry sale. Lina protested violently, but Roseline forced it on her.

“Don’t you trust me? I’ll send word once I’m settled.”

“If they don’t let me through the checkpoint, I’m coming right back.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. You have the letter and my pass, right? Show them that.”

Lina lingered, sniffling, before finally turning away. She took a step, looked back, took another step, looked back—over and over, rubbing at her swollen eyes. Roseline forced a smile and waved.

Only once Lina had disappeared beyond the academy gates did Roseline return to the dorm. With even Lina—her companion through most of her life—gone, the loneliness hit like a physical blow.

She was truly alone now.

“Well, I’m ruined.”

Roseline sighed as she looked around the now-empty dormitory. How did things get so tangled up? For three years, she had waited for graduation—only to find herself with nowhere to go, forced out of her dorm early, and left to bear it all alone.

“Whatever. No point moping. If all else fails, I really will go dig up herbs.”

She was sprawled on the common room sofa, muttering to herself, when—knock, knock, knock. A visitor? Rare. She craned her neck to peer at the door before reluctantly pushing herself up.

“Lina?”

“Lina? Just open the door.”

The voice was familiar. So was the irritable tone. Unlocking and swinging the door open, she found—unsurprisingly—Lady Schnitzel standing there with a sour expression. And she wasn’t alone. Two maids struggled behind her with a large trunk, offering awkward smiles.

“Um, miss, where should we put this?”

Lady Schnitzel brushed past Roseline and answered curtly, “On the table. Then you may leave.” As the maids finished and turned to go, she added, “Good work,” with a haughty nod. Roseline, still gaping in the doorway, let out a disbelieving laugh—earning herself a sharp glare.

“Aren’t you going to invite me in?”

“You’re already in.”

“Ahem. Never mind the tea—just come sit.”

The lady had claimed the sofa as if she owned the place. The sheer audacity was more amusing than offensive. Even the scolding look she shot Roseline—What’s so funny?—only made it funnier.

“I found this on the way. Not really my style. You can have it if you want.”

The moment Roseline sat, Lady Schnitzel flung the trunk open. Inside lay an ivory-colored dress, complete with matching gloves and shoes, all meticulously arranged.

“I don’t have anything to give in return, since I didn’t ‘find’ anything.”

“Ugh, do you really think I found it? I had it specially ordered because your graduation banquet dress was obviously going to be pathetic. Understand?”

Roseline tilted her head. Why would Lady Schnitzel prepare a dress for me?

Her eyes narrowed as she studied the lady—the fidgety fingers, the oddly expectant expression, the way she kept sneaking glances. The motive was still unclear, but one thing was certain, Lady Schnitzel had been waiting for this moment, and she was very invested in Roseline’s reaction.

“My lady, is there something you need from me?”

“Why would there be?”

“Then… do you like me?”

“Have you lost your mind?”

Lady Schnitzel’s eyes narrowed sharply, her jaw tightening.

“Well then, I’ll accept the gift gratefully. Thank you.”

Roseline smiled brightly. Her usually sharp eyes softened into crescents, dimples appearing in her cheeks. The lady stared at her, momentarily stunned by the unexpected warmth.

“I wasn’t planning to attend the banquet, but now that you’ve gone to the trouble of preparing a dress, I suppose I must.”

“Who said you shouldn’t go? Honestly, you’re still so clueless. Do you really not understand the situation yet?”

Lady Schnitzel’s expression twisted in frustration, her tongue clicking impatiently. Before Roseline could even ask what she meant, the lady barreled on.

“I don’t know what you did to anger him, but your esteemed ex-lover is strong-arming the nobility. Do I really need to spell out what kind of ‘cooperation’ he’s demanding?”