The Scent of Betrayal
Reyan looked at Claire, who was still sobbing, and first sent Heste away. Then he simply held her tight, hoping she would calm down. Her shoulders, trembling now and then, spoke of sorrow, while her hands clutching his clothes as if she would never let go told of fear. When she seemed to settle a little, she saw Reyan right in front of her. That face had once brought her happiness, but now it carried the dread that she might be abandoned again. Claire's trembling never stopped.
Even so, Claire begged. Her breath kept catching in hiccups, making it hard to get a single word out, yet she clung to Reyan with desperate strength. Every time she looked at his face, the cruel insults she had heard in that mansion she once visited while following Heste came flooding back. The image of Heste screaming at her to get lost and abandoning her resurfaced. And now, even that nightmare overlapped with Reyan’s figure.
Heste had said the same things to her. Let’s be friends forever. I want you to be happy. But the result had been a cold betrayal. Just like discarding a pet you’d grown tired of raising, she had simply been left behind. She knew she should feel happiness in Reyan’s words, yet all she felt was unease.
Claire believed Reyan and Heste were different people. No, she knew they truly were, but the massive trauma from her childhood refused to let her accept it. She knew his words were true. She knew that, unlike Heste, he would throw even himself away for her sake… but—
Unable to control her emotions, Claire screamed at him in a voice as sharp and loud as a shriek. Because she still saw Heste overlapping with him. Yet even she herself had never imagined she would raise her voice at Reyan like this. She clapped both hands over her mouth.
Reyan called her name gently and pulled a handkerchief from his pocket, offering it to her. Without a trace of panic or anger, as if he simply understood. As if telling her to calm down.
“… Hic, ugh.”
Claire took the handkerchief Reyan handed her. It carried memories—every time she had cried or struggled, he had given it to her. Whether those memories were good or bad, they were there. The anxiety that had surged so violently began to subside, little by little. It might have been an overinterpretation, but to Claire, Reyan’s handkerchief was something that held memories belonging purely to the two of them, never shared with anyone else. The fear that Reyan might leave her gradually faded beneath the weight of those shared memories.
“Th-thank you…”
So Claire pressed the handkerchief to her eyes. Every time she showed him her tears and pain, Reyan hurt too. Now, for his sake, she wanted to escape these groundless delusions.
“… Huh?”
But an unfamiliar scent rose from the handkerchief. When she looked closer, she saw it was damp with moisture. Anyone else might have overlooked it, but not Claire. The faint lingering fragrance on the cloth. The subtle lavender scent belonged to someone she wished she could forget but never could—the scent that had once clung to the skin of her ‘old friend,’ the one she had longed for so desperately as a child.
“… Heste.”
Claire easily recognized that the faint lavender and the dampness came from Heste. Nausea surged up as if she might retch. In her ears, the shouts and screams from the day she was abandoned rang like tinnitus, Heste’s voice striking her eardrums over and over. The heart she had barely steadied began to shake again.
This was supposed to be just for me, Reyan…
Why? Why did you give Heste the handkerchief that holds our memories? It was something for me. You’ve always done everything just for me, and I’ve done everything just for you. So why does Heste have to wedge herself between us?
Does that mean you treasure her just as much?
Countless thoughts and questions crawled through Claire’s mind like insects burrowing into her ears. Reyan’s hand stroking her soothingly, his warm tone, his eyes, even the slight furrow of his brow that appeared whenever he worried she might hurt more—everything still brought only happiness. But the thought that Heste had experienced even a fraction of Reyan’s kindness, that her scent had tainted their memories no matter how faintly, was unbearable.
Reyan likes me… He loves me enough to stand against a duke for my sake…!
It was certain that Reyan liked her, but he had not yet confessed. Maybe it was all in her head. Maybe the liking and the near-confession were nothing but her own delusion. The worst possible assumption flashed through Claire’s mind. Reyan was kind and gentle. Maybe he was simply kind and good to everyone, not just her. Maybe she wasn’t special to him at all. Maybe she was just one of the many people he happened to meet along the way…?
When Claire stared blankly at him, Reyan reached out and touched her forehead. It must have felt like fire. Just as she expected, he flinched the moment his hand made contact. Worried she might have caught a cold, Claire spread her arms toward the flustered young man.
Even if Reyan continued to spend time with Heste, she could not bring herself to be angry. He had already become the reason she lived. She had not even considered fleeing the empire to seek asylum. The fact that she had returned to that hellish academy was simply so she could be with Reyan. If she opposed what he was doing and earned his hatred, it would be no different from dying that very day.
Instead of getting angry, she wanted to be acknowledged as someone special. She wanted proof that she was closer to him than anyone else. That she was more precious to Reyan than Heste—no, than anyone in the entire world. Yes. She wanted Reyan.
The handkerchief that carried Heste’s scent was inside Reyan’s embrace. She hated it. She wanted to cover it with her own scent, to push it away. Not a simple comforting hug—hold me the way lovers share their love.
Of course, Reyan held her. Though it shouldn’t have been possible, she thought she could smell Heste in his arms. Her face pressed against his chest. Her breasts, shamelessly pressed tight against his muscled body as if trying to seduce him. She clung to him with every inch of her body, leaving no space between them, as if in heat. Claire hugged him harder, stronger, as if trying to cover even his scent with her own warmth. She pulled his waist closer, begging for love.
Reyan seemed startled at first, but he accepted her. Then, as if sorry, he spoke in a trembling voice.
At Reyan’s confession that he was doing this for her sake again, Claire could not find any words to answer. She hated Heste. Her body froze in terror and nightmares every time she saw her. But the reason he wanted to be with that girl was to make her happy. With all her strength, she forced her body—which truly wanted to cling to him with everything it had—to pull away.
So that Reyan would worry no more, she forced a smile.
Anyway, Heste takes classes in the main building. Reyan and I are in the annex or the old building…
Reyan heads to the guild as soon as afternoon classes end at four. If she could somehow make him stay at her house instead of the academy dormitory… Even if he had promised to work with Heste, there would be no time for them to meet. She could reject his sincerity without hurting his feelings and erase any point of contact with that girl.
Nothing will happen. No—I’ll make sure nothing happens.
With all her might, with everything she had, Claire managed to smile.
When Reyan smiled, Claire buried herself in his arms once more.
She asked him to stay by her side so he wouldn’t leave her. It was a request that bordered on coercion, but there was no resistance. Reyan nodded and, just as she asked, left the academy with her and headed to her lodging.
If things stayed like this, she would be separated from Heste, and eventually it would be as if none of it had ever happened. That was what Claire thought.
The next day.
For some reason, Heste appeared in the commoner classroom—right up until she sat down in the seat beside Reyan.
At the academy professor’s polite question—
Until Heste held up the parchment bearing the dean’s seal.