I Plotted The World Destruction With The Male Lead - Chapter 32
She regretted burning the letter. But she didn’t want Van to see it. The fact that her heart had wavered, even for a moment, was humiliating.
As Van stepped inside, his expression twisted the moment he saw her face.
‘What kind of expression am I making?’
She thought she had erased all traces of her tears.
“…Are you all right?”
His voice was barely above a whisper as he pulled her into an embrace.
For a moment, Eleanor felt as though she might cry again.
Before her regression, no one—no one but Van—had ever held her like this.
Not even her parents.
And Carlyle had rejected all physical contact with her unless it was for Guiding.
Eleanor exhaled deeply and leaned into Van’s arms.
“I’m fine. I just… received a letter and a ring.”
Van’s gaze flickered to the silver tray atop the dresser, where the ring lay alone.
Eleanor pressed her face into his chest, wrapping her arms around his waist.
The simple fact that she could hold someone like this made her heart ache with gratitude.
For a while, neither of them spoke. They simply held each other in silence.
The attendant who had followed Van to the room quietly stepped back and closed the door without entering.
Once Eleanor’s emotions settled, she rested her chin against Van’s chest and looked up at him.
“I burned the letter.”
“I see.”
“I left the ring, though… It’s over there on the tray.”
Eleanor explained the ring’s origin—how it had originally belonged to Elena and how, before her regression, Elena had planted it in Eleanor’s room to falsely accuse her of theft.
Van listened quietly.
He had already suspected that the Armoire family had mistreated Eleanor. But hearing the details still filled him with anger.
She was from the East. Even if she hadn’t been from his duchy, she had manifested as a Guide there. He should have been the first to know.
‘If I had known…’
He would have made her his Guide from the start.
Then she never would have been taken in by the Armoire family. She never would have suffered like this.
It was his own foolishness.
He had focused only on his duchy, just as the emperor had wanted.
Dael had been declared infertile, yet he had never let go of his obsession with having an heir.
Outwardly, he claimed that Van’s existence meant there was no need to worry about succession.
Yet at the same time, he had been wary of Van’s influence extending beyond the eastern duchy.
And this was the result.
He had failed to stop Carlyle’s power from spreading throughout the empire. He had lost the woman who should have been his Guide.
The memory of Eleanor offering herself as a sacrifice flashed through Van’s mind. It was an event that could never be allowed to happen again.
Eleanor studied Van’s gaze, noticing how he remained silent.
“You’re not going to ask me anything?”
“If it’s something I need to know, I trust that you’ll tell me.”
“…”
Eleanor hesitated, wondering what Van was thinking. This was the kind of situation where doubt could easily take root. She had burned the letter—he might suspect she was hiding something.
“He said he loves me… that my anger was all just a misunderstanding, and that he’s willing to forgive what I’ve done.”
That I should come back to him.
As she added those last words, Van’s gaze darkened. He had likely expected as much. Eleanor’s decision to confess it so easily had been impulsive. She wanted to see his reaction.
“So, is that why you cried?”
Eleanor flinched, completely caught off guard. She hadn’t expected Van to notice that. Startled, she instinctively took half a step back. But Van stepped forward.
Closing the space between them, his much larger frame enveloped her entirely.
“I will never be the reason you cry.”
His large palm cradled her face, his red eyes serious, framed by long, dark lashes. He looked beautiful.
“…Not even in the bedroom?”
Van’s face immediately flushed scarlet.
He could be utterly beastly when receiving Guiding during sex, but moments like this reminded her how easily he could turn shy.
“In the bedroom… please make an exception…”
His hesitant, fumbling response made Eleanor smile. Rising onto her toes, she kissed him. She had meant to kiss his cheek, but she wasn’t quite tall enough. Her tongue flicked over his lips, and Van instinctively lowered his head to follow. The hand that had been cradling her face slid downward as he lifted her into his arms.
Their gazes locked for a moment before their lips met again, and Eleanor wrapped her arms around his neck.
She hadn’t meant to Guide him, but she could feel it happening—a gentle, unintentional flow of energy. As Van’s tongue slipped into her mouth, she stroked his hair, deepening the kiss.
“From now on… you’re the only man I want to touch. You understand what that means, don’t you?”
Van, his face flushed a deep red, nodded without hesitation.
He was overwhelmingly larger than her, yet in this moment, he seemed completely docile.
Adorable.
Eleanor cupped his jaw and softly sucked on his lips.
Van let out a shaky breath, unsure what to do with himself, before wrapping her in a firm embrace.
Their kisses deepened, then softened, over and over.
Their mingled breaths were hot, and every brush of their tongues tasted impossibly sweet.
“More… please…”
Van pleaded, his gaze heavy with longing. Even though he was the one holding her, Eleanor felt like she was the one gripping onto him.
The thought was endearing.
Smiling, she pulled him closer and kissed him deeper.
“Shall we bathe together?”
At her whispered invitation, Van’s red eyes shimmered with pure bliss.
Kissing her again, he carried her straight to the bathroom.
*
It was time to decide.
Before Eleanor appeared, Carlyle had already prepared a plan to survive. He had no intention of simply waiting for death in a world where his guide had yet to appear.
That plan had originally involved Empress Luria.
But now, he no longer had any reason to target her. The emperor, Dael, was protecting her, and there was a far easier target within reach.
Charlotte Enrick.
Because she was an A-rank Guide, he had once considered making her empress and had treated her with due respect. But circumstances had changed. Now, instead of Luria, he planned to offer up Charlotte as a sacrifice.
The Marquis of Enrick, guardian of the North, was indeed formidable—but he was nothing compared to the emperor. Since Carlyle’s forces weren’t yet strong enough to kill Dael, Luria was out of his reach.
This method was something he had never wanted to use.
Not only was capturing Empress Luria an enormous challenge, but this wasn’t true guiding—it introduced a different kind of poison into his system.
It wasn’t an incurable poison, but it was extremely difficult to detoxify. It had always been a last resort, something to prepare for in case of an emergency.
And now, that emergency had arrived.
Even after returning to the past, Carlyle had believed that Charlotte should be made empress rather than Eleanor. But that didn’t mean he wanted to receive her guidance.
Back when he had known nothing, he had tolerated Charlotte’s guiding. But now, just the thought of it filled him with disgust—perhaps because of their low compatibility rate. Charlotte likely felt the same way.
A low match rate resulted in an unpleasant sensation for both parties.
Carlyle had already dispatched his Blue Ravens to the North in preparation. The time for courtesy toward Charlotte was over.
Even though certain events had yet to occur, she had already repaid his past politeness with deceit. And he was not the kind of man to make the same mistake twice.
As for the empress… I’ll simply choose a daughter from another noble house.
No one but Eleanor would ever be allowed to guide him.
But he could not make Eleanor his empress—not after she had accepted Van and agreed to an engagement.
You betrayed me.
If Eleanor had obediently become his concubine and borne his child… yes, if she had done that, he might have even raised her to the position of empress.
But that was no longer the case.
While he could consider making her child his heir, he would never give her a status beyond that of a royal consort.
I love you, but I cannot keep by my side the woman who stole my throne—without a price.
Carlyle allowed himself a quiet smile, imagining Eleanor hesitating after receiving his letter.
She might have thought that by sleeping with Van, she had now placed herself on equal footing with him—just as he had once taken Charlotte into his bed.
But that day would never come.
She would forever remain his possession.
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moraeseong
he’s so narcissistic and delusional it’s actually hilarious