At the End of Ruin, There You Are (56 Chapters Left to Complete) - Chapter 11
It was something she would never have said under normal circumstances.
Whether it was because of the fever that clouded her mind, because she had died and come back to life, or because she couldn’t tell if this situation was even real—her tongue moved entirely of its own accord, with brutal honesty.
She told Pheon, “I know you don’t even see me as a woman.”
In doing so, she had essentially declared, “No one thinks of me that way, and I know it too.” These were words her immense pride as Princess Ostein would never have allowed her to utter—but she had said them anyway.
“It’s nothing, really.”
After saying it, she felt indifferent. Above all, it was simply the truth—something she alone had known but never spoken aloud.
“I see.”
Pheon, too, seemed to nod calmly and indifferently.
“I must have done something unnecessary. I’m sorry.”
“Why did you save my father?”
Caella asked bluntly, seizing the moment. She had always been desperate to know, yet she could never have asked this question within the palace walls, where the Emperor’s eyes and ears were everywhere.
“It has nothing to do with you, Your Highness.”
That was the nature of their relationship—completely unconnected. They shared no blood, nor were they bound as family; he was merely a man to her.
Her mind understood this was for the best, yet her heart felt hollow, and Caella floundered, unsure how to bear this emptiness.
“On the contrary, Your Highness should have been the one held accountable.”
Had the Empress not collapsed, that surely would have happened. Missing his shot like that—he’d have been branded an ignorant, uncouth fool by the Emperor. Yet Pheon replied simply and dispassionately.
“I’m already someone who’s been held accountable, so it’s fine.”
How could he possibly say, “Because I didn’t want to sin further against you,” or, “Because I wanted you to be happy”? How dare he speak such words? A sinner had no right to speak. He had to remain silent.
“Support for Lusenford might have been reduced.”
Would the Emperor really cut supplies to the front lines—where they faced the Mad Dragon—over something so trivial? Yet the Emperor was precisely the kind of man who would do exactly that without hesitation. It was already common knowledge throughout the Empire that he treated Pheon with particularly irrational favoritism.
“Then Lusenford might not have survived. Why did you do it?”
Grand Duke Lusenford was a knight and a soldier. He understood well that his soldiers needed to fight without freezing or starving.
Thus, despite enduring constant humiliation before the Emperor, he had always fought hard for whatever support he could get. Wasn’t his greatest goal, his deepest wish, and his ultimate dream to slay the Mad Dragon, return home, reunite with his mother, and marry Beatrice?
Caella had thought that if Pheon had eliminated the Mad Dragon Guosalante before the Emperor could kill him, she herself would likely have been secretly assassinated in Lusenford.
After all, Lusenford was filled with loyal retainers who would quietly dispose of anyone threatening their lord’s reunion with his mother—and he himself wouldn’t have tolerated a wife he suspected of being the Emperor’s spy. One way or another, Caella was fated to die.
“We’ll manage.”
Pheon answered briefly. There was even a hint of confidence in his reply—unlike the Grand Duke who had once struggled desperately against the cold while fighting the Mad Dragon.
“Thank you for your concern, but Lusenford will manage. Besides, are we not both in a position where we must help each other before His Imperial Majesty?”
Through fever-blurred eyes, Caella looked at Pheon anew. He sounded completely unlike the Grand Duke she had known—strangely unfamiliar.
She had deliberately addressed him with the same formal respect she’d used during his time as Grand Duke, and he, too, spoke back using the exact same tone her husband once had—yet it still felt strange. The phrasing was identical, but the meaning had changed. Why had he changed?
“Yes. That’s right.”
Why had he changed? Now that Caella had confronted Pheon and shown her anger, would he regret saving her father? Had she now fallen out of his favor?
“Caella? Princess?”
Her head ached terribly. Every jolt of the carriage caused her blood vessels to constrict, squeezing her skull tightly.
“We’re almost there.”
Let whatever will happen, happen. She’d already died once—could she really not die a second time? Even if things with Pheon fell apart, she had nothing to fear.
While Caella stubbornly brooded, the four-wheeled carriage soon arrived at the Ostein townhouse, its stone path dimly lit but its windows blazing with light.
The carriage, escorted by numerous knights, came to a stop before the entrance where the butler and servants stood waiting, the rhythmic clop of hooves echoing against the cobbled road.
From the carriage stepped a tall, broad-shouldered man who quickly reached inside to offer his hand.
“You’ve had a trying day. Please rest well and take care of yourself.”
His manner was the very embodiment of a gentleman treating a lady with utmost decorum. Though they’d only met today, his courtesy was impeccable—yet it carried no trace of shared memories or friendship between them.
Her hand, resting upon his, burned hot with fever. Pheon extended both arms to steady Caella as she swayed weakly, helping her down from the carriage.
“Thank you for seeing me home, Your Grace.”
Even in her delirium, Caella remembered her manners and returned the cloak he had lent her.
“Have a peaceful night.”
Hiding every word and action he truly wished to express, Pheon left her side. The familiar sense of loss was wearing him down.
After departing the Ostein townhouse, he mounted his horse and rode straight back to the palace. The streets were so dark that only the brilliantly lit palace in the distance served as a guidepost.
The Grand Duke rode in complete silence, offering no words. Not even his accompanying knights could tell what expression he wore or what thoughts occupied his mind.
“Your Highness.”
Sir Renard had somehow quietly drawn near, though no one noticed whether he’d been with them all along or had just joined. His whisper was drowned out by the clatter of hooves on the cobbled road.
“Lady Lavalle has secretly entered the Soleil Palace.”
Though Sir Renard spoke as neutrally as possible, the fact that “Beatrice” had “secretly” entered the “Soleil Palace”—where the Emperor resided—was deeply suspicious. Yet Pheon merely nodded without so much as blinking.
“She hasn’t come out yet.”
“Keep watching her.”
“Yes, Your Highness.”
The loyal Sir Renard bowed without asking a single question and vanished once more into the darkness.
Pheon only remembered those subordinates who had never betrayed him—and moved them in secret. He could trust only those who, facing the overwhelming Imperial army, had died shielding him first, crying out that “His Grace must survive at all costs.”
Thus, Caella—once confined by his order to the northernmost tower of Lusenford—was inevitably the single most important exception.
From the moment Pheon met her again before the Garden of Monsters, he had been helplessly compelled to follow everything she did. Before Caella, he was utterly powerless.
The moment she stepped from the carriage and removed his cloak, he’d wanted to simply tell her to keep it. He’d given her so little—he wished to hand it over as a small token. But the butler swiftly draped a shawl over her bare shoulders, leaving him no chance.
When this brief spring ended, he would return once more to Lusenford—and Caella would become a stranger to him forever.
Was that truly acceptable? If Caella’s life became peaceful, was that enough?
‘Impossible.’
It couldn’t be that simple. Atonement and repentance were never so easy.
The Kerujan negotiations, the collapsed Empress, the Emperor’s madness, Beatrice secretly entering the Soleil Palace, the Mad Dragon… There were countless matters demanding attention—but all of them already lay within Pheon’s calculations.
He even knew the cause behind his mother’s collapse, so that came as no surprise. If anything, it was regrettable—but it served his interests. All he needed was to keep moving as planned.
Yet everything Caella had said and done today was entirely unexpected. She was the one person who should have been within his plans—only then could he ensure her safety and protect her perfectly.
Who would dare link someone like her to His Highness and start rumors?
A noble-born princess, proud as she was, would never refer to herself as “someone like me” or utter such self-deprecating words.
The spark in her eyes when she looked at him had gone cold, and rather than just drawing a clear boundary, she’d lashed out at herself to push him away.
What had Caella been like at this time of year? To his despair, Pheon couldn’t recall, no matter how hard he tried.
By then, he’d already placed a mental barrier ensuring he felt absolutely no interest in her. Had his heart truly grown cold toward her from that moment? Or had he simply concealed his indifference so perfectly that even she never noticed?
Was there truly not even a sliver of hope in this lifetime for them to remain on good terms?
The more he thought about it, the more painful his thoughts became.
It seemed this dark, endless night would never end—haunted by the princess’s feverish, shame-filled words and the secrets hidden beneath them.
*
The event Princess Ostein had prepared with all her might proved a great success and was long talked about among the nobility. The Kerujan diplomatic envoys were highly pleased with the grand opening.
That morning, the Emperor had briefly met with Prince Elkanan, and in the afternoon, quietly summoned Grand Duke Lusenford, who had just attended a military conference.
Entering the Soleil Palace, Pheon was slightly surprised to find Duke Ostein and the princess already there—when they should have been meeting diplomats and resting, respectively. What now?
One night’s rest couldn’t possibly have restored Caella. She’d always been especially frail. Yet the Emperor looked even worse than she did—so much so that when Pheon moved to perform his formal greetings, the Emperor waved him off impatiently.
“That’s enough. Come over here. I’m not calling busy people just to waste their time.”
“Your words wound me deeply, Your Majesty.”
Despite nearly dying at the Emperor’s hands just days before, Duke Adeo de Chasser had no choice but to humor the Emperor’s mood. Here, he was far senior to both Pheon and Caella, so the responsibility fell on him.
“It is our joy to come gladly whenever summoned.”
“Empty flattery.”
“Your Majesty…”
Today, the Emperor grumbled like a petulant old man.
Whether something had happened with Beatrice Lavalle the previous night, he looked as if he’d barely slept. Dark circles ringed his weary eyes, and he appeared utterly exhausted—as though worry was slowly devouring him.
“Never mind. Hyperion, you said you’re twenty-eight this year?”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
“How old is Caella?”
Caella, baffled, answered anyway.
“Twenty-one, Your Majesty.”
The Emperor rubbed his dry face.
“As you know, the Empress has fallen into this state. There’s no sign she’ll awaken. The physicians are useless; the medicines have no effect.”
Watching the Emperor’s despair, Caella remained silent. Should she feel relieved that even this Emperor could suffer despair—or glad to see him humbled?
This man, who agonized so deeply over his own troubles, had freely inflicted despair and misery upon others. In her eyes, he was the most selfish person she’d ever known.
“Only now do I look back and realize how much I regret.”
It was almost miraculous to hear those words of repentance from his mouth.
“I neglected too many things I should have attended to long ago. It’s shameful that I only see it now, Hyperion.”
“Your Majesty has always looked after me.”
Caella struggled not to stare at Pheon in shock. She kept her eyes fixed on the red carpet, trying to hide her expression.
Could this really be the Grand Duke of Lusenford—speaking such insincere flattery to the Emperor with that cold voice and expression?
That man had never known how to fabricate words. Honest to a fault and incapable of deceit, he’d often frustrated and worried Caella precisely because of his unyielding sincerity.
Yet now, without even blinking, he offered more effusive praise to the kidnapper of his own mother than Duke Ostein ever had. Even the Emperor seemed surprised that Pheon would say such things—he blinked in astonishment.
“Do you truly believe that?”
“By Your Majesty’s grace, this unworthy one has been granted the overly generous title of Grand Duke, granting me the honor of an audience with you.”
He murmured it as if reciting dry facts. These were precisely the words the Emperor had drilled into him since childhood, practically brainwashing him. It was almost laughable that the Emperor himself—who had taught Pheon to say these very lines—now seemed taken aback by them.
Caella realized once again just how deeply suspicious the Emperor truly was. In the end, he would never trust anyone.
“No, the title of Grand Duke is certainly not excessive for you. Are you not the Empress’s son?”
“I am most grateful for your words.”
Just what was Grand Duke Lusenford trying to achieve against such a persistently suspicious Emperor?
Suddenly, Caella wondered whether she hadn’t traveled back in time at all—but had instead fallen into an entirely new world she’d never experienced before.
The Pheon she knew would kneel before the Emperor and endure humiliation, but he would never use clever words to flatter him.
Yet he didn’t appear cowardly. The Grand Duke of Lusenford was utterly composed. Every word from his lips sounded as unshakable as steel-forged truth—and so the Emperor grew even more pleased.
“The Empress’s son is of noble birth.”
The Emperor declared it emphatically. After 28 years of calling his blood filthy and base, he now flipped his stance as easily as turning his palm—but Pheon didn’t even smile.
“Thus, I must finally resolve the imperial marriage I’ve postponed.”
Princess Ostein glanced anxiously at Grand Duke Lusenford. He stood perfectly still, listening silently as the Emperor spoke.
“Adeo, my brother.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
The Emperor, who only called him “brother” when it suited him, beckoned Adeo closer.
“You successfully arranged the imperial marriage according to my wishes this time. Yet your own daughter remains unwed.”
An imperial marriage had been arranged? What was this? Caella’s mind raced—she’d never heard of this before. Something must have happened this morning.
Though unaware that his daughter’s fingertips had turned icy cold, Adeo carefully masked his discomfort. As both a father and Duke of Ostein, he had to protect his daughter and safeguard the duchy.
“There is an order to all things. Among the unmarried children of the imperial household, isn’t Caella the eldest? Shouldn’t the princess who will inherit Ostein be wed to a reliable husband?”
As he spoke, the Emperor extended his other hand toward Pheon.
“This isn’t a spur-of-the-moment suggestion. I’ve given it careful thought over the past few days—especially since the Empress collapsed. I did consider Prince Elkanan. But the Duchy of Ostein is a pillar supporting Cranis.”
Pheon moved closer to the Emperor.
“Lusenford, too, serves as a shield defending Cranis from the front lines. If these two houses unite and strengthen the imperial family, I could ask for nothing more.”
“Your Majesty…”
At this point, Adeo couldn’t help but be alarmed.
Everyone across the Cranis Empire knew whom Grand Duke Lusenford held in his heart. And now the Emperor proposed to wed him to whom?
Adeo expected the Grand Duke to object—but Pheon just stood there, eyes wide, saying nothing. Or perhaps he simply couldn’t speak under these circumstances.
“I believe Caella and Hyperion are perfectly suited for each other.”
Before the words had even finished echoing across the red carpet of the audience chamber, the princess collapsed.
Male lead first thought she played hard to get, only to realize she
really disliked him
Short intro:
What she can’t stand the most is the streets full of effeminate men, especially that so-called top beauty whom she avoids at all costs.
Shen Yaoxing looks at Jiang Mingyue, who keeps approaching her with coy shyness.
Shen Yaoxing: Bro, don’t be like this, I’m really about to throw up!
She fears nothing in heaven or earth, except for him getting close to her.
*
At first he thought she was just using the trick of feigning indifference to attract his attention. Later, he learned that she truly despised him.
This dealt a heavy blow to Jiang Mingyue, and he vowed to make her, like everyone else, fall at his feet in worship!
***
Synopsis:
Before transmigrating, Shen Yaoxing only wanted to find a reliable man to spend her life with. Who knew that after transmigrating, she would become a reliable woman herself…
A forced misandrist, highly skilled, and reliable female lead
vs.
An initially aloof and arrogant, later morbid, obsessed male lead
_____
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MANGA DISCUSSION
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Chapter Comments (165)
The only thing you can do for her is kill that mad emperor
How is that trash emperor still on the throne ?
Did this trash ra** the empress !!!!!!!😡
Inline Comments (558)
Accustomed to a husband who never replied no matter what she said, Caella ran aw
YES!!!!!!!!!Shes rebelling and living for herself 🥹🥹🥹
The title of Grand Duchess Lusenford belonged to Beatrice! It was the second-hig
So it’s the third highest position? Some unfortunate counting here
The Emperor was anxious—extremely anxious. The longer the Empress remained uncon
Genuinely such an insane man. I wonder if it’s cause he’s had too much power his whole life
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VKotaku28
Go into this novel
VKotaku28
* I want to go into this novel and strangle that emperor so Kaela can finally be at peace