My Ruin to You - Chapter 78

Six knights lost their lives, yet here I am, worrying about my own unease. I’m just as wretched as the rest. Pathetic.

Even this self-reproach felt like a hollow performance of conscience.

“Look at me.”

Valen was on his feet in an instant, turning Roseline to face him. The pallor of her face carved deep lines into his otherwise flawless brow. He guided her back into the chair, then turned it fully toward himself. Prying her small hands away from her mouth, he cupped her tense jaw in his palm, forcing her gaze up.

“Don’t swallow it. Spit it out on me.”

“Huh…?”

Roseline grimaced in disgust. She should have said she was fine, that there was nothing to vomit—but the moment she parted her lips, saliva pooled under her tongue, and her stomach lurched. She hastily raised a hand to cover her mouth, but Valen caught her wrist.

“Move.”

He patted her back while jerking his chin toward the Marquis’ severed head. As Edan swiftly replaced the lid and carried the crate away, the Vice-Captain stepped outside and returned with a cup of water.

“Water, Your Highness.”

“Good. My thanks.”

The acknowledgment was unusually generous. The Vice-Captain, who had glanced at Valen with wide eyes, quickly schooled his expression and retreated.

“Can you drink water?”

How can he be this tender? The Grand Duke treating his lover was like an entirely different person—nothing like the cold, calculating commander receiving reports on fallen knights and the worsening plague. The ruthless authority was gone, replaced by affection in every touch and glance.

“…I’m fine, so please don’t worry about me. Focus on your duties, Your Highness.”

“You’re ‘fine,’ yet you’re nauseous. Showing you the head was a mistake.”

“The head isn’t the problem.”

“Then what is?”

“I’ll tell you later.”

“Drink the water first.”

“After drinking, can I go back first?”

“No.”

“…Why not?”

“You can barely keep your eyes open. Where would I send you alone? Bear with it a little longer. Hm?”

Roseline kept her voice low, almost whispering, as she gauged the atmosphere in the tent—but unfortunately, their conversation reached every ear inside. They simply pretended not to hear.

In the end, Roseline chose compromise over futile argument and accepted the cup of water. Gulping it down in hopes of vanishing into the background, she only earned Valen’s averted gaze once the cup was empty.

“Do you have anything to say?”

Valen addressed the Captain. While Roseline’s nausea had settled, the Captain had also been wrestling with his barely contained fury, organizing his thoughts.

“I have questions for Sir Edan.”

Valen nodded permission. The Captain moistened his dry lips and faced Edan with a hardened expression.

“Explain in detail. Exactly what happened?”

“Everyone except the night watch was asleep. I was in the third-floor loft. When I woke to the commotion, the lower floors had already been overrun.”

“Why wasn’t a distress signal sent?”

“There was no opportunity.”

“This makes no sense.”

The Captain’s brow furrowed. As if unsure where to begin, he glared in silence before finally continuing.

“Let’s assume, as you claim, there was no time to call for reinforcements. But in that critical moment, you somehow had the means to retrieve his head?”

“Naturally.”

The answer came from Valen instead. The Captain, who had been pressing Edan aggressively, slowly turned his head.

“It seems you’ve misunderstood something. While I may have other motives, you and your knights should not be the same. Was securing the criminal not your primary objective?”

His calm gaze fixed on the Captain across the table. When Valen slightly raised his brows, prompting a response, the Captain stiffly lowered his head.

“…My apologies, Your Highness. Personal feelings clouded my judgment for a moment.”

His quick admission of error lasted only a second. The Captain abruptly dropped to one knee. The Vice-Captain and Roseline, watching with bated breath, exchanged rapid glances. Valen and Edan remained expressionless as they stared at him.

“They were exceptional knights—nobles of the Empire. We cannot leave them like this. With your permission, I will assemble a team to recover their remains.”

Roseline understood his anguish, but it wasn’t a sound idea. There had been a time when she, too, believed enduring inside was better than facing the cesspool outside—but that logic only applied to those with no future left. If more lives were lost retrieving the bodies, the Captain would only suffer further.

“……”

Roseline stole a glance at Valen. His blank face gave nothing away, but she leaned toward thinking he wouldn’t allow it. Recovering the dead was a profoundly human impulse, but that didn’t mean Valen would sympathize.

“Proceed as you see fit.”

Yet Valen always defied expectations.