Chapter 96
Ruan, Will You Marry Me?
“Of course a child should be loved. Isn’t that only natural? My wife may be quiet and not very expressive like the Viscountess claims, but she’s never done anything wrong. Are you saying a parent should only love the children that fit their preferences, and abandon the rest?”
Ruan looked at Penelope as if he couldn’t believe what he was hearing.
Lucianne stepped in quickly.
“Your Grace, Mer has done plenty of bad things. She’s stolen from me, lied countless times… and even though we covered up all of it for her, in the end—”
Her voice trembled, as though she were the victim. But Ruan only stared at her, incredulous.
“Lady Lucianne. Since the day I met you and your mother, I’ve seen you lie more times than I can count. But my wife—she has never once lied to me. And judging by your expression right now… you’re lying again.”
Lucianne’s lips quivered, tears spilling as she cried out,
“That’s because Your Grace is being deceived! That child always knows how to draw people’s attention. Even at the last banquet, she provoked me—just to make herself look pitiful in your eyes. I was foolish, I admit it! Foolish for being deceived by her.”
Ruan’s patience snapped. He could almost feel his hands itching to tear the deceit right off her face. His gaze hardened into a glare cold enough to silence the room.
“You people… there really is no hope for you. Mercy means nothing to those who don’t understand they’ve been granted it. Fine. Since you’ve taken what isn’t yours, you’ll return it. Search every inch of this house. Bring me everything that belongs to the duchy!”
“Yes, my lord!”
At his command, the servants scattered through the Viscount’s estate. Moments later, they began hauling out dresses, jewels, and accessories—things Mer had once gifted or brought with her when the marriage talks first began.
Lucianne’s face went pale.
What? That’s all mine! Why are they taking my things?!
“This is absurd, Your Grace!” she cried, voice cracking. “These were all given to us when the engagement was arranged! Some of them were gifts from Mer herself! You can’t just take them away!”
Ruan’s expression turned as cold as steel.
“Lady Lucianne, you seem to be mistaken. In this Empire, there is nothing I cannot take back if I decide to. You should have expected at least this much when you interfered with my marriage. Lucianne Beanomant, you dared to sabotage the marriage of Ruan Canolup. Do you know why the Canolup family has held wealth and power for so many generations? Because when someone strikes at us, we repay them tenfold.”
Lucianne’s blood ran cold. The same terror she once felt in that pottery shop—when she had first faced him—crept back into her veins.
“Do you know,” Ruan said softly, “why Prince Daimond went silently to his execution that day?”
Her heart stuttered. Why is he talking about Prince Daimond now?
When Daimond had been executed, she hadn’t even left her estate. She had only read about it in the papers.
“Do you also believe,” Ruan continued, “as the commoners say—that he lost his mind before he died, and that’s why he offered no resistance?”
“Your Grace…”
“I told you already. I always repay everything—tenfold.”
Tenfold?
Her thoughts spiraled. What have I done that’s so wrong?
All she had ever wanted was to be Crown Princess. Daimond had offered her that dream, promised her the throne if he became Emperor. She had believed him. She had hoped again.
And then, the rebellion failed. Daimond was executed. Her dream crumbled.
Meanwhile, Mer—once a mere commoner—had become a duchess. That envy had festered, turned into spite. She had only wanted to teach the girl a lesson. Only wanted her to fail the marriage, so she’d come crawling back to beg forgiveness.
But now everything had fallen apart.
Lucianne bit her lip hard. When the servants began stacking her possessions before Ruan, she broke down, dropping to her knees.
“I was wrong, Your Grace. I only… I only wanted to teach Mer a small lesson. I never meant any harm to you! Please, overlook it just this once. You and she are married now, aren’t you? Please… please let it go. I’ll never cross her again.”
“I’ve already shown you all the mercy you’ll ever receive,” Ruan said flatly. “There’s nothing left.”
“Your Grace, I beg you! Forgive me just once more! I swear, I’ll never appear before Mer again!”
“Lady Lucianne,” Ruan replied, voice like ice, “do you know why I ever tolerated your presence in my house? It was only for my wife’s sake—because you and your mother are her family. But after the ball, you made it clear yourselves: you are no family to her. So tell me—why should I show mercy to strangers who harmed my wife?”
Lucianne could only tremble, mute. The cold that radiated from him filled the entire mansion. She wanted nothing more than for him to leave.
“You’re right, Your Grace,” Penelope stammered beside her. “We have nothing to do with the Duchess anymore. Please forgive us. Take everything, burn it if you must—just, please, don’t hurt Luci!”
Ruan’s eyes swept over the two women kneeling before him. They’ll never truly repent, he thought. Even now, their apologies are hollow.
“Bring it.”
A servant carried in oil and a torch.
“Y–Your Grace, you’re not planning to burn the house down, are you?! Please! In this cold, we’ll freeze to death!”
Ruan only clicked his tongue, uncorked the flask, and poured oil over the dresses. Then—whoosh!—the torch fell, and the flames roared to life.
“My dresses! My jewelry! No—nooo!”
“This is your last warning,” Ruan said, voice cutting through their screams. “If you so much as show your faces near my wife again, I’ll make sure neither of you ever set foot in the capital again. Ever.”
Leaving their cries behind, he turned and walked out.
***
When Ruan returned to the ducal mansion, exhaustion etched deep lines across his face. The house was strangely quiet. No footsteps, no chatter—only stillness. His chest tightened.
“Ed? Clea? …My lady?”
No answer.
The silence made his pulse quicken. He hurried down the corridor and flung open Mer’s door.
“My lady!”
“Oh? Ruan, you’re home.”
Mer turned toward him, smiling radiantly.
She was dressed beautifully, her hair arranged neatly, a soft glow around her.
Ruan exhaled in relief. “Why is the mansion so quiet? Did something happen?”
“I sent everyone home early,” she said gently. “Is that all right?”
“Yes, of course. I just worried something had happened when I heard nothing.”
“I’m perfectly fine,” she said, smiling. “Wash your hands and come sit. Dinner’s ready. I thought we could eat here tonight—would that be okay?”
“Of course.” He nodded, still slightly puzzled but touched by her warmth.
When he returned, she guided him to the table. “Sit here.”
She set a steaming bowl of potato soup and warm bread before him.
“I asked Aunt what you liked best. I realized you’ve always been the one ordering my meals, but I never really knew what you enjoyed. Aunt said your favorite was potato soup, so I asked the chef to teach me.”
“You made this yourself?”
“She tasted it for me—said it was close to the Duchess before her, your mother’s recipe. Though… I’m not sure it’s that good.”
Ruan lifted a spoonful.
The taste hit him like a memory—creamy, savory, comforting warmth spreading through him.
“This is it,” he whispered. “The same soup my mother used to make. It’s perfect.”
“Oh, thank goodness.” Mer smiled softly. “Then eat as much as you like.”
Course after course followed—dishes from his childhood, every one of them his favorite.
“What’s all this about?” he asked with a small laugh. “It’s wonderful, but you’re making me nervous.”
“I’ve been thinking,” she said quietly. “About what might’ve happened if I hadn’t accepted your proposal that day. If I’d stayed at the Viscount’s house—still being scolded by Mother and Luci, blaming myself for everything. I’d have thought I was cursed, living miserably as always.”
“Mer…”
“When I agreed to the six-month term, I promised myself I’d just… exist quietly and then disappear. I never imagined I’d fall in love with you.”
Her voice trembled slightly, but her gaze stayed steady on him.
“Do you remember what you told me, when I asked what kind of woman you liked? You said it didn’t matter what I looked like—as long as I was healthy. That I wasn’t lazy or worthless, just someone who loved food. Those words… they made me happy. And sad. Happy because you saw me as I am. Sad because I thought I’d lose you in six months.”
Ruan’s breath caught.
“Ruan,” she whispered, “I don’t have much. I may be of royal blood now, but I’m not truly royal. Still, there’s one thing I can say with certainty—I love you more deeply than anyone in this Empire. Whatever happens, I’ll stay by your side for the rest of my life.”
Tears shimmered in her eyes, but she smiled through them.
“So, Ruan… if you still love me as I am now—just as I am—
Will you marry me?”
