The Other Side (2)
As soon as Duke Bern Meliard stepped down from the carriage, he scanned his surroundings. The place was far too clean for where an Artifare should be living, and the sight made him frown.
“Quite clean for an Artifare to be staying here.”
Seeing his expression, the guards hurried closer.
“Just give the word, Your Grace. We’ll make it exactly as you desire…”
“Enough. Open the door.”
At the Duke’s curt gesture, the coachman hammered loudly on Claire’s front door. Thud— Thud— Thud—!
“…Lady Heste! The head of the family has arrived! Come out at once! If you refuse, we will be forced to break it down!”
When the door still did not open, one of the guards stepped forward. The front door that had always shielded Claire crumpled like a sheet of paper. Sunlight flooded through the entrance, slicing across the living room strewn with discarded clothes and traces of Reyan before reaching all the way into the bedroom where Claire and Heste stayed.
“…H-Heste? W-why are th-those p-people c-coming into our house? I-I hate it. J-just like b-back then—!”
“Keep your eyes closed. All right, Claire?”
In Claire’s eyes flickered the worst memory of her childhood betrayal. In Heste’s eyes stood the head of the Meliard family—his hair now white, yet still trying to control her as if she were a child.
“…Not only did you unilaterally tap into the family’s intelligence network, but you’ve caused quite the spectacle, Heste.”
Bern Meliard, head of the Meliard family, removed his bowler hat and set it on the living-room table before addressing Heste in the bedroom.
“…”
Whether she answered or not made no difference. As though it were the most natural thing in the world, he drew a cigarette from his coat, placed it between his lips, and lit it with magic. Pale smoke curled from his mouth.
“Unlike you, I’m too old to waste energy on anger. Heste, I’ll ask you only one thing. Did you interfere with Duke Ephedrine because of that cursed bitch?”
The moment Bern’s voice reached her, Claire clapped both hands over her ears and curled tighter into the corner of the bedroom, as if trying to disappear into the wall itself.
Heste gazed at her for a moment, then rose from the bed.
“…Let’s speak outside, Father. You’re causing a disturbance.”
“A disturbance? Hardly.” Bern looked straight at Claire and roared, “Get the hell out of here, you disgusting creature! How dare a filthy byproduct of the Artifare family’s lust—something less than a beast—try to eavesdrop on a conversation between Meliards!”
Claire hiccupped in shock. The shout made her glance up involuntarily, and there he was: Duke Bern, almost unchanged from her childhood except for his hair color, the very source of her trauma. And the command to leave.
“Ah, aah, aaaaaaaaaaaah—!”
Claire screamed as convulsions seized her. In that instant her mind had been dragged back to the past—the terrible day she had been coldly abandoned by the friend she trusted, the day she realized she was nothing more than a beast, mere filth.
“…N-no—! Hic— it h-hurts— n-nooo—!”
Her trauma triggered, she thrashed like a madwoman, shaking her head violently. She clutched her skull with both hands and raked her nails across her exposed neck and shoulders, drawing blood. Her eyes flickered from black to red and back again.
Duke Bern watched without a trace of pity—only open disgust—and gestured to the guards.
“Drag her out.”
Two burly men stormed into the bedroom and advanced on Claire.
“Father, what are you—!”
“Move or interfere, and I will make the Artifare scream in agony right here.”
Heste recognized the steel in his voice and froze.
As the men drew nearer, Claire kept shrinking against the wall as though she could burrow through it. Her shoulders scraped raw and red, sweat poured down her body, and terror made drool slip from the corner of her mouth.
If fear and dread had a shape, it was the people of the Meliard family who had given her that childhood trauma—their heartless, merciless, cruel eyes and hands.
Black Mana began to ripple across Claire’s body.
“N-no— R-Reyan…. Reyan, w-where are you, R-Reyaaan…!”
The moment the black mana stirred, emotion swallowed her whole. The only name that rose in her mind was Reyan’s, and she called for him desperately. Whenever she was scared or hurting, Reyan’s presence had always kept those feelings away.
But then she realized he wasn’t here—
“…C-Claire!”
Leaving Heste’s cry behind, Claire shoved the men aside. They were large, powerful men, yet they flew into the wall like paper dolls. Claire, who barely registered what she had done, burst out of the house in search of Reyan. Barefoot, still wearing only her nightclothes, she ran toward the hospital where Reyan was staying.
“…Ah, aah—.”
Watching Claire flee, Heste let out a long, pained sigh. A hollow chuckle escaped her as she stared down at her own hands.
“…It was so close. We could have gone back to the way things were. We could have become real friends instead of this fucking mess….”
The abandoned Heste turned to her father—no, to Duke Bern—and let out a piercing shriek.
“Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah—! Fuck—!”
She snatched up the blade from the corner of the bedroom, the same one Claire had once used while cursing her own fate and considering death, and pointed it at Bern.
“You beat and oppressed me my entire life…. Is it really so unbearable for me to keep even one friend close? Is it that hateful for me to breathe a little, to be even a little happy—?!”
Her hands shook violently, yet the blade never wavered. When the guards who had been hurled against the wall moved to restrain her, Bern waved them off as if it were unnecessary.
“Is that all you have to say?”
“Is that all I have to say?”
Heste stomped her foot, all noble grace gone, her fury boiling over.
“If you hadn’t thrown Claire out that day, none of this would have happened with Duke Ephedrine! You know how hard I tried to be the perfect daughter. You know how much I worked, how desperately I wanted her—!”
Bern regarded her with an utterly emotionless face.
“…I told you that Artifares only gain value once they are broken and forged into weapons. That girl is not a person. She is merely the Empire’s tool to annihilate the allied nations. What father would allow his precious daughter to keep the most dangerous weapon in the world at her side?”
He exhaled a plume of cigarette smoke while staring into Heste’s eyes.
“…Besides, you only spent time with her and talked. You never saw Claire as a person either. You treated her like a cute pet to keep nearby. Like an object. You never once considered the Artifare’s feelings.”
“Heste, you are the same as me.”
Heste’s threatening steps toward her father suddenly halted.
“So stop this pointless rebellion. Return to being Heste Meliard. Or do you want another beating?”
Heste stood motionless for a long time. Then she gave a small, bitter laugh and reversed her grip on the blade. Crimson blood dripped from it, but every wound healed instantly beneath White Mana, leaving only faint red traces behind.
Step. Step.
Drip. Drip.
Heste placed the blade into Bern’s hand.
“Who am I to you? From the very beginning, you never saw me as Heste. You only ever saw my mother, didn’t you?”
Slap—!
Bern struck her cheek, but Heste simply smiled the way she always had.
“…You can’t kill me, can you? When I was little you used to say all those horrible things and swear you would kill me. Don’t you remember?”
“…Have you finally lost your mind?”
“…Ah, you look at me with such contempt. Why? Because I’m the daughter of your concubine? Do I resemble my dead mother that much?”
“Heste, that’s enough.”
“Or is it because the son from your political marriage is such a pathetic, talentless piece of trash that you can’t name him your heir?”
When Bern raised his hand again, Heste smiled even wider.
“…If you lay a hand on me one more time, Father, I’ll whore myself out to the first man I find and then kill myself. Just like Mother. Oh, I’m not calling Mother a whore. You already know that, don’t you?”
Bern’s face twisted with rage, but he could not bring himself to slap her again. His trembling hand hurled the blade against the wall. Then, for no reason at all, he struck a nearby guard across the face twice.
“…Return to the mansion. I will overlook today’s events.”
Bern called to her with a heavy sigh, but Heste kept smiling.
“…There is no place for Heste in the Meliard family mansion, Father.”
Tick— Tock.
The clock’s sound echoed hollowly through the bedroom and living room. The drops of blood from the wound on Heste’s hand fell onto the floor with soft, rhythmic plops.
Bern stared at her for a moment, then turned his back.
“Regardless, attend the academy banquet before the subjugation training.”
He walked out. As soon as the carriage began to move, Heste’s face bloomed into a bright, innocent smile and she waved cheerfully.
“Father, please visit again! I’ll miss you!”
Heste did not follow Claire’s trail. She already knew exactly where the girl was heading, so she set off to find Reyan as well. She had washed her hands at the sink before waving goodbye, yet they were still stained red.