My Ruin to You - Chapter 56

Knock, knock.

At the unexpected knock, Roseline froze stiffly, still clutching the blanket. This is bad. The already tied-up sheet looked far too suspicious. In a panic, she burrowed under the outer blanket, hiding the bundled sheet inside.

If I don’t answer, they’ll leave, right? That was the hope. It would be the polite thing to do.

But the visitor didn’t wait for permission—the doorknob turned, and Roseline, lying with her back to the door, squeezed her eyes shut. She sensed silent footsteps approaching and immediately knew who it was. Valen.

“Get up.”

Valen, sitting on the edge of the bed, pulled back the blanket that had been covering Roseline up to her head. Startled, she bolted upright, yanking the blanket up to her waist to hide her secret. His lips twitched in amusement as he took in her red-rimmed eyes, the wariness and panic flickering in them. Pathetic, his expression seemed to say, cowering like that when I haven’t even done anything.

Roseline had no intention of clearing up his misunderstanding. She pressed her lips together and gripped the blanket tightly.

“Eat.”

Valen set the tray on her lap, still covered by the blanket. The rich aroma of the soup made her mouth water, but Roseline stubbornly turned her head away.

“What’s the point? I’m going to die anyway. It’ll just make the coffin heavier.”

The words came out sounding like a petulant complaint, and she immediately regretted it. Valen, of course, didn’t miss it. The corner of his mouth curved slightly, as if suppressing a smirk. He took her hand, pressed the spoon into it, and met her gaze.

“And when do you think that will be?”

“Once we reach the capital, I suppose.”

“Then eat while you can. At least it won’t be before then.”

Not before then. But what would happen after was left ominously open—a terrifying pronouncement that dangled the possibility of death before her. Faced with the reality of her vague assumptions, even her ravenous hunger vanished.

“What, do you need me to feed you?”

Valen frowned as she set the spoon down with clear reluctance.

“If Your Highness leaves, I’ll eat then.”

“If the food doesn’t suit you, I’ll have it replaced with something else.”

She instinctively understood what something else meant. Her face twisted in disgust, but only for a moment. Without giving Valen time for his gaze to turn icy, Roseline grabbed the soup bowl and gulped down the lukewarm broth in large, hurried swallows.

Happy now?

The words she couldn’t say were conveyed through her eyes as she plopped the empty bowl back onto the tray. After shooting a furtive glare at Valen’s now-relaxed expression, she yanked the blanket over her head and flopped back down. She knew it was incredibly rude, but what did it matter now that she had a death sentence hanging over her? One more act of disrespect wouldn’t change anything.

His gaze lingered strangely on the lump of the blanket and the pink crown of her head peeking out from under it, his expression twisting subtly. He ran his tongue over the inside of his cheek before leisurely standing up.

As he opened the door, Merrick, who had been waiting in the hallway, reached out. Handing him the tray, Valen turned back and swept his eyes over the sunlit room one last time.

“Roseline.”

All day, he kept calling me “young lady” like he was drawing a line between us, and now this?

She grumbled in her head—royals were so fickle, changing their tone whenever they pleased. Must be nice being a royal. Once I escape, I should just go found my own country somewhere—

“My impression is that I’ve been rather indulgent with you so far. What do you think?”

“……”

“Personally, I don’t mind if there are things you don’t know. But you? You’re different.”

Blinking in the darkness under the blanket, Roseline slowly sat up. Then, bowing her head toward the door, she belatedly offered a proper courtesy to the royal who claimed to be indulging her.

Happy now?

The words she couldn’t say were, once again, only spoken with her eyes. Valen smiled soundlessly before turning away. Click. The moment the door closed, Roseline let out the breath she’d been holding in a long, heavy sigh.

“What was that? Did he figure it out?”

She fumbled with the blanket. The inner sheet—soon to be a rope—was tightly rolled and hidden between her legs, impossible to notice unless someone had X-ray vision. Still, an ominous feeling crept over her. But even if Valen had noticed her plan, she couldn’t just give up now. Whether she escaped or not, the outcome would be the same.

As the sun dipped westward, a makeshift rope of fabric and blankets was thrown out the window. Creak. The storage room door opened, and hurried footsteps rushed across the lobby.

“Your Highness, a rope has been lowered.”

The meeting came to an abrupt halt. Valen, who had been receiving reports at the table with the map spread out, suddenly turned to look out the window.

“Even when I want to be lenient, she goes and does something like this.”

If you’re impressed, shouldn’t you let it go? And if you can’t, doesn’t that just mean you’re annoyed?

The knight who delivered the news and the captain, who had been briefing the maximum range of the barrier stones, both thought the same thing—but neither voiced their doubts aloud.