Chapter 38
The moment I returned to the academy, I penned a lengthy letter confessing my faults and regrets—and received a reply. ‘This lacks sincerity. Rewrite it.’ What began as penitence slowly morphed into mundane daily accounts. As envelopes stamped with the Grand Duke’s seal piled up, my heart grew bolder.
What would’ve happened if I’d never sent that letter?
‘I didn’t think you’d come to the banquet.’
Leaning casually by the window, Valen idly turned a pocket watch in his hand. Roseline stood rigid by the door, meeting his gaze head-on.
‘Thanks to someone blocking every path forward, I had to find a way to survive.’
‘What, did you think Schnitzel would save you?’
‘Who’ll be my salvation? I wouldn’t know—I haven’t even spoken to them yet.’
‘You should have. Then you’d be biting his fingers in the banquet hall instead of standing here.’
Roseline’s face twisted. Without even glancing away, Valen tossed the watch onto a nearby sofa.
‘Not going to come closer?’
‘You told me to crawl here.’
‘And did you?’
‘I won’t crawl—but I can kneel. Should I?’
Valen’s eyes narrowed. For a brief moment, he studied Roseline while slowly licking his lips, as if gauging something. Then he turned his head away with a hollow laugh, his gaze returning slowly—now devoid of any trace of amusement.
“I do like when you get cheeky with me, but now’s not the time for you to push your luck.”
“……”
“Fine. Kneel.”
He gestured to the floor, as if daring her. Roseline had spoken back in defiance, but she hadn’t actually planned to kneel—her eyes wavered. Even if she stopped a passerby and asked, they’d agree this was the moment she was pushing her luck. But she had no desire to drag this out. The sky wouldn’t collapse if she knelt once, and there was no reason to spare joints that would wear away after death anyway.
“……”
Without further hesitation, Roseline knelt. Valen watched her with cold, detached eyes. Click, click, click. The sound of his knuckles cracking echoed bleakly with each deliberate press of his fingers.
“What exactly were you trying to accomplish?”
Pushing off from the window, Valen took slow, measured steps toward her.
“Knowing full well I was watching.”
“……”
“Boldly holding another man’s hand in front of me, dancing, whispering secrets.”
Roseline’s field of vision filled with the black of his boots.
“What were you thinking? Hm?”
Matching her eye level, Valen crouched down and gripped her delicate chin, tilting it up. The fragile bone beneath his fingers felt like it might snap with the slightest pressure—yet the gaze meeting him was unyielding.
“What power do I have? That’s not a question for me—you should take it up with His Majesty.”
“That would be treason.”
“……What are you even saying?”
“Ah, is it the Empress’s title you want? You don’t care to be a Grand Duchess, but Empress sounds appealing?”
Is this madness?
No one in their right mind would accuse her of impropriety over his own brother, of all people—as if she’d done something outrageous. And that brother happened to be the Emperor of this empire.
“Yes. I want it.”
No, I don’t. I wouldn’t take it even if offered. But even a cornered mouse will bite a cat. After everything, groveling to appease him felt too bitter to bear.
“How simple.”
Valen nodded, as if he’d expected this. Then he rose to his full height, pulling Roseline’s gaze upward with him. The dazed look she gave him seemed to amuse him—he smirked.
“You shouldn’t accept just anything offered to you. That’s how you end up punished.”
His hand, which had been gently smoothing her hair as if tidying stray thoughts, suddenly yanked out her hairpin and tossed it aside carelessly. As her pinned-up locks cascaded loose, his lips curved into a soft smile. Schnitzel’s gift now lay discarded on the floor in disarray, but the thought of retrieving it never even crossed her mind. The moment she met the glint of madness in Valen’s eyes as he stood tall, looking down at her, a shiver raced down her spine.
“Wait.”
“Wh-Where are you going?”
“You said you wanted to be Empress.”
“Your Highness!”
“If you’re bored, you can ponder whether what I’m about to do counts as treason or patricide.”
“……”
“But no matter how I look at it—it just seems like affection to me.”
Discussion
1 CommentReactions
billyjbradshaw