My Ruin to You - Chapter 94

It was time to ask the question she’d postponed—using chaos as an excuse, claiming the future could wait.

“Even after all this… do you still intend to marry me?”

“Would marrying another woman at this point do you any good?”

His voice was soft. His expression, too. He only frowned briefly, displeased when Roseline pushed her hood back.

“Feeling stifled?”

He fiddled with the hood’s edge as he asked. But Roseline, lost in thought, didn’t hear him.

Valen married to another woman.

It wouldn’t be good for her, but she wasn’t in a position to stop him. The best she could do was play it cool—”I see. I understand. Take care.”—and let him go with a straight face.

Roseline found herself deeply engrossed in pondering a scenario that would never happen. After waiting in vain, Valen let out an exasperated laugh.

“You shouldn’t even be considering it.”

Her wandering pinkish eyes finally focused. The hood’s shadow fell over her pale face, making her wide eyes under those long lashes stand out even more. Her flushed cheeks and delicate jawline looked all the more fragile in the dim light.

“If that happened, you’d have to be my mistress.”

“…Mistress?”

“Ah, any child you bore would be a bastard.”

“……”

“Could you handle that? Weren’t you terrified of rumors and scandals?”

Who said anything about bearing children? No—who said anything about being a mistress? The absurd leap in logic made her frown instinctively. Not that he actually intended to make her one, of course. Duchess or mistress—he’d narrowed her choices to extremes. Stubborn Roseline would never choose the latter.

“But, Your Highness—”

“Roseline.”

“…Yes?”

“Will you marry me?”

“……”

“If your answer is ‘I can’t’ or ‘I won’t,’ don’t bother.”

Her prepared response had been along similar lines—Let’s finish things in the capital first, then discuss this later. But from the first proposal until now, it seemed her own will held little weight in this marriage. A petty sense of inadequacy prickled inside her.

Let’s go.

As he naturally interlaced their fingers, Roseline glanced up at him and spoke.

“If my family had been a ducal or marquis house… would you have handled the marriage proceedings like this?”

Her voice was lifeless. Her hand, too, hung limp in his grip, as if it would slip free the moment he let go. He tightened his hold, brushing a fleeting glance over her hooded profile before smiling faintly.

“Whether you were a noblewoman or a commoner, it makes no difference to me.”

How magnanimous. Just as Roseline grumbled internally, a familiar figure emerged from the path they’d taken.

“Your Highness.”

Merrick. Valen’s gaze flicked between Roseline and him before abruptly yanking her hood down over her face.

“I can’t see. I’ll trip—”

“I’m here.”

“No, I mean—if I can’t see in front of me—?”

“I won’t let you fall. Keep it on.”

Because you’ve cried so much your face is obscene.

He whispered the added remark softly by her ear—though it’s not like anyone could see her face in the deepening dusk anyway. Still, it was true that her eyes were swollen from crying, so Roseline simply nodded without protest. Merrick had undoubtedly witnessed her tearful outburst, and the sheer embarrassment made it impossible to lift her head. Valen patted the back of her hand approvingly, as if praising her compliance.

“We’ve found a place to camp,” Merrick reported. “The knights and soldiers awaiting orders have all been relocated as well.”

“Good work.”

“I’ll lead you there now.”

Merrick took the lead, with Valen and Roseline following behind. Valen kept teasing that he’d carry her if she couldn’t see, but Roseline refused vehemently.

The forest, once painted in sunset hues, quickly lost its color as inky darkness seeped in. The branches that had glowed reddish now cast deep, cool shadows, draping the woods in a hushed tension.

Rustle. Shhh—

A presence stirred nearby. Merrick halted midstep and glanced back, his gaze tangling with Valen’s—who had also sensed it and stopped.