Do You Love Me?
Claire felt a profound sense of unease around Heste. It was inevitable. Even though relying on Heste while mentally shattered had been a mistake, Claire had chosen to trust her again—the very woman who had inflicted trauma upon her.
She had done it for Reyan. Because she was terrified he might leave her. Because she loved him so desperately. After the horrific act of wounding him herself, Heste had promised to help her win him back. The young lady of the beloved Meliard family had offered her aid, and Claire, intoxicated by that sweetness, had fallen for it.
But now Claire had come to realize that every one of Heste’s actions was ultimately hurting Reyan. Paradoxically, it was only after Reyan was wounded that the fog in her mind finally began to clear.
Before going to meet Runyang, why had she washed her face and carefully arranged her appearance as if something wonderful was about to happen? She should have known Runyang wasn’t a bad person. So why had Heste deliberately stirred up anxiety by bringing up Runyang’s heat cycle? Why had she tempted her with the idea of stealing Reyan away, claiming it might hurt at first but would be worth it?
Claire knew she couldn’t find the answers alone. Her gaze drifted to the gap in the wardrobe that hadn’t been fully closed, where a nightgown was visible.
She could no longer accept Heste’s comfort as genuine. The happy future Heste spoke of felt like it would never come true.
In that instant when she had screamed at Heste—asking why she had incited her, blaming her for everything—the guilt that arose from accusing someone who had tried to help her vanished the moment she glimpsed the black nightgown through the open wardrobe door. Because Heste’s soothing words and Reyan’s sobs overlapped in her ears.
…That’s my nightgown.
Why was Heste keeping her clothes? It was nothing more than a cheap nightgown stained with blood, torn from a fall. The more she thought about it, the stranger it seemed. If Heste truly liked Reyan, why was she helping her?
The anxiety only accelerated.
At first, blaming Heste had been closer to an escape, but this was different. Even without a clear reason, she couldn’t stop the unease from rising. She hadn’t examined it closely, but there was no way Heste would possess a nightgown reduced to such rags.
It was hers.
The moment her suspicion turned into certainty, Claire instinctively pulled away from Heste. When Heste reached out to comfort her, Claire carefully avoided the touch—as if silently warning her not to lay a hand on her body.
Even while offering comfort, Heste’s expression twisted slightly at the way Claire had dodged her hand.
Despite seeing that expression, Claire summoned her courage. Heste had said she treated her well because she liked Reyan. She had assumed the jealousy toward Runyang stemmed from the same reason, and that working together was all for Reyan’s sake. That was why she needed to uncover Heste’s true intentions behind helping her under the pretext of protecting Reyan.
Heste asked, and Claire nodded.
Heste spoke as if it were nothing, but her flushed, excited face betrayed her as she took Claire’s hand. Instead of her own bedroom, she carefully led her to the one she had given up. She turned off the lights and asked cautiously.
Heste spoke as though any skinship that might occur by ‘accident’ was inevitable. Before Claire could even answer, she turned toward her, smiled, and closed her eyes.
…I’m just checking.
Heste draped her leg over Claire’s body and hugged her tightly, like a child clutching a doll. The anxiety made even the skinship that had once felt tolerable now crawl with revulsion, but Claire endured it, breathing deeply as time passed.
About two hours must have gone by.
Claire called out softly. She gently tapped Heste’s shoulder to confirm whether she was truly sleeping. Moonlight filtered in, so if Heste opened her eyes or flinched, she would notice immediately. But Heste seemed to be sound asleep, breathing evenly without the slightest movement.
She slid the blanket aside, then carefully pulled it back over Heste in case the chilly night air woke her. Moving with extreme caution so the floorboards wouldn’t creak, Claire slipped out of the bedroom. Naturally, her destination was Heste’s room. She held her breath as she opened and closed the door, afraid any sound might be heard. The moment she took a step—
Creak—!
The sound from the floorboards rang out as loudly as if it would tear her eardrums. The small noise traveled down the dark corridor of the villa, echoing faintly before fading away. Claire instinctively sucked in a sharp breath.
She pressed her ear to the door behind her, listening for any sign of movement, then continued walking toward Heste’s bedroom. Once she was far enough away, she grew a little bolder.
Creeeeak—.
The instant Claire entered Heste’s bedroom, she lit a candle. The one she only used for writing at night illuminated the room with surprising brightness.
She had entered carrying suspicion, distrust, and anxiety—perhaps even the thought that Heste might not actually like Reyan. Only then did she realize how eerily similar this place was to somewhere else. The arrangement of the furniture, the sheer number of pieces despite it being a bedroom where everything could be handled in one space…
For a moment Claire felt as if she couldn’t breathe, her vision flashing white, but she didn’t stop. She opened the drawer of the simple desk set up in the corner for work, and an eagle statue came into view.
Why does Heste have this…?
It was the symbol of the Artifare family. After being betrayed as a child and refusing to go outside, she had reluctantly hired servants and demanded they sell it.
Rattle—!
When she yanked open the second drawer, it was filled with old letters. They were the ones she and Heste had exchanged when Heste was her only friend. If that had been all, she might have let it go—but there were even the letters she had thrown away without sending.
Half-burned letters that crumbled with a rustle when touched. Written on the day the Meliard family had abandoned her because she was an Artifare. Even though she knew some things could never be fixed, she had begged for affection, promising to change anything Heste disliked if only she wouldn’t throw her away.
She muttered to herself, unconsciously clutching her head. Beyond the throbbing pain, a wave of nausea surged up. Anxious imaginings shot through her mind like bullets.
Claire stopped rummaging through the desk and walked toward the wardrobe—the source of her dread. It was still slightly ajar. The gap was too dark for any light to penetrate, filled only with blackness, yet the candlelight revealed faint shapes here and there. A black nightgown. Sheer fabric that fell all the way to the knees. That was what she saw.
Creeeak—.
The wardrobe groaned. The moment the door opened and the soft candlelight spilled inside, Claire dropped the candle and stumbled backward, collapsing onto the floor.
It was there.
The black nightgown. Torn and tattered, still stained with blood. The one she had been wearing.
At the same time—
Click—.
A sound came from behind her.
It was an ordinary voice, but to Claire it sounded different—like a rusted iron gate that hadn’t been opened in years. Her neck refused to turn. After several footsteps from Heste, bright light suddenly flooded the bedroom. So bright that a mere candle was unnecessary.
Heste looked at Claire and smiled as she always did. The moment she saw the terror in the girl’s eyes, she quickly discarded the confession she had been about to make and offered an excuse instead.
While tidying the desk Claire had messed up, she continued.
She spoke calmly as she hung the nightgown back in the wardrobe.
Claire instinctively knew those words were a lie. When she thought about it, it was strange. Heste claimed to like Reyan, yet she had always approached her instead. She said she loved Reyan as much as Claire did, yet she had used him like a tool.
She had tried to send him into the black forest. She had provoked jealousy by saying she would steal him away. She had sent her out looking perfectly fine in front of Runyang, then framed her. It was almost as if she wanted Claire to drift away from Reyan’s side.
Claire swallowed hard. It was a question she didn’t have to ask, but she asked anyway.
Heste, who had been calmly straightening the bedroom, froze mid-motion.