Do You Love Me? (2)
Heste stood frozen for a long moment. The instant Claire asked if she loved her, the feelings she had buried for so long threatened to break free. To Heste, at least, Claire had been salvation. She was the shade that let her breathe inside her twisted family, her one place of rest. Just as Reyan was that for Claire, Claire was that for her.
Her lips had gone bone-dry. Even when she licked them, they cracked again like withered leaves.
“...Is that important?”
In the end, Heste dodged the question. Relationships between people of the same sex were not permitted in this era. Besides, unlike the allied nations, the Empire was still steeped in discrimination. She saw no reason to willingly expose her weakness for Claire’s sake.
After all, as long as “Reyan” existed, Claire could never defy her. That was how it had always been.
“...I-important?”
She exhaled in one breath the rotten air that had festered deep inside her lungs.
“Huu—”
Heste stripped away the mask of kindness, walked up to Claire, and lifted her chin with a finger.
“Reyan dies without me. Whether you like me or love me changes nothing. If I’m gone, Reyan gets hurt. Understand?”
She leaned in until their faces were close enough to kiss. The scent of lavender stung Claire’s nose. In turn, Claire’s own scent clung to the tip of Heste’s.
“...And shouldn’t an apology come first? I brought you here out of consideration. What is this, Claire? Do you truly want Reyan to suffer? You already got him hurt. You pushed him away with your own hands, so has he become unnecessary now?”
“...Are you threatening to hurt Reyan?”
“...I already told you. I like Reyan, so I had no choice. Yet you suddenly ransacked my room. Love and all that—do you really think those words belong between us?”
“...So you do love me, Heste.”
Heste studied Claire’s reaction slowly. She watched the tremor in her eyes, the rhythm of her breathing, trying to read the emotion on her face. She was no mind-reader, so she couldn’t glean exact information, but she could tell Claire was confused.
She knew that if she guided the conversation little by little, the way she always had, she could steer it wherever she wanted.
The problem was that her feelings for Claire were far larger than even Heste had realized.
Maybe that confusion is her way of trying to accept me. She was the one who suggested we sleep together first. She leaned on me. She listened to me. Even after I hurt Reyan, she accepted what I said. Her face is flushed. Those red eyes look like they’re staring at my chest. Claire’s skin must feel so soft. In the past we spent every day together without any of these worries… Claire, why are you looking at me like that? I’m going insane. I want to bare my heart. Would that be all right? You’ll hate me. But if not now, when can I ever say it? After we graduate from the academy? After I seduce Reyan with my body and hand him over to you? When would that be? Just when will I be allowed to speak of the feelings I’ve suppressed for more than five years?
I want to watch the stars with you again, to read books by candlelight. Without you, I’m not ordinary Heste. I hate being the Meliard young lady. I hate being the family head. I hate being the young head. I like you. Claire, I want you.
Snap.
Something inside her broke. The final thread holding her reason together had severed. Love paralyzed reason and awakened raw instinct.
“Claire. Are you hoping I love you?”
Before she knew it, Heste was leaning on her own confusion and demanding affection. It was a statement even she could not understand.
Claire’s flushed cheeks. Her ragged breathing, her eyes, everything filled with hatred. Possessiveness had flooded Heste’s mind until all she wanted was to seize it in her hands.
“Did you plan to hurt Reyan from the start?”
Yet Claire did not answer. Instead she asked a question of her own.
Was making “Reyan” get hurt really such a huge issue? In time Heste would wrap him up nicely and present him as a gift anyway.
Irritation boiled over. She knew Reyan was a good person; she had received his sincere comfort without any prejudice. Still, she hated the feeling that Claire was being taken from her.
“Reyan attended the banquet, didn’t he? Keep asking questions and I’ll drag him to the subjugation training. I’ll send him into the Black Forest, make him suffer until he’s nearly dead, then save him myself and violate him. Do you understand? So I’ll say it one last time. Ask once more and our relationship ends.”
That was when Heste’s true nature surfaced. Not the perfect, kind mask she had been trained to wear as the face of a ducal house, but the selfish, love-starved, recognition-craving, twisted villainess beneath.
That was why Claire shoved her away. She had seen Heste—who always smiled and hid her emotions so well—become this agitated. She realized her questions had touched secrets Heste could never answer.
And so Claire understood Heste’s heart. The disgusting suspicion had become truth, and she began to wonder whether even the childhood days they had shared had been seen through those same eyes. The very person called Heste started to feel repulsive.
“Disgusting.”
A voice as cold as ice settled over the bedroom.
“Filthy. It makes me want to vomit.”
Even though Heste had torn off her mask and revealed her true self, the rage did not last long. Seeing Claire stare at her with pure loathing made Heste’s eyes shake violently. Her head spun until she nearly retched, and her vision blurred as though she might faint.
Heste glared at Claire, then forced a smile back onto her face and asked again.
“Claire, is it all right if Reyan gets hurt?”
Claire rose from her seat. Instead of retreating she walked slowly toward Heste and pushed a finger against her chest. The candle she had dropped tilted, spilling wax across the floor. She stepped on it without a sound; her gaze was so frigid she could not even utter a groan.
“...You can’t, can you.”
“...Why? Because I like Reyan?”
Claire shook her head. Her red eyes looked down at Heste’s blue ones from above.
“No. Because you love me.”
A small gasp slipped from Heste’s lips.
“...Ah.”
Claire gripped Heste’s chin the same way Heste had gripped hers, then raised her right hand high.
Slap—!
The blow left a vivid red handprint, but white mana quickly erased it. The shock, however, remained like a bruise that continued to throb.
“What the hell are you doing!”
The moment Heste shouted, Claire’s hand rose again.
Slap—!
She struck so hard with her slender hand that a bruise bloomed on the striking palm instead. Heste crumpled to the floor.
“...You want me to apologize? How can a person be this disgusting, Heste!”
Claire’s shout was as loud as the emotions she could no longer contain. The sound echoed down the hallway. It was fortunate no servants were present.
“...Hic, disgusting? What exactly is so disgusting?”
Even while collapsed, Heste tried to salvage her pride. Tears pooled in her eyes as she looked up at Claire and forced one corner of her mouth into a twisted smile.
Claire met her gaze.
“I love you.”
The words were spoken in a tone utterly devoid of feeling. Heste knew it was not sincere. It was contempt aimed at something filthy, a cold declaration that she would never give her any “love.”
Yet, paradoxically, they were the words she had longed to hear more than anything. A strange pleasure bloomed inside her at the knowledge that Claire was, at least right now, looking at her.
A tear slid down from Heste’s right eye. The expression on her face was utterly repulsive.
“...Disgusting. It makes me nauseous. Why did you do it? Did you hate seeing me with Reyan that much? Did you really think I would like you after this!”
Claire slapped her again, as if even the tears were unbearable to witness.
Slap—!
It hurt. It was miserable. But it was surely nothing compared to the betrayal Claire felt. She had opened her heart, at least a little, to the Heste who claimed she was helping for Reyan’s sake. In truth, this was Claire’s second betrayal.
“The truly disgusting part isn’t that you looked at me that way. It’s not even that you collected my belongings. It’s that you used Reyan, who has nothing to do with any of this. Do you understand?!”
Trembling with rage, Claire yanked open the drawer and pulled out every letter. She also took the black nightgown from the closet, then picked up the candle that still flickered faintly on the floor.
“...W-what are you doing? N-no, Claire. T-that’s not— I was wrong, I was wrong!”
Even as Heste begged and reached out to stop her, Claire brought the old letters and clothing to the flame.
“A-aaaaaah—! No, nooo—!”
Whoosh—!
The fire, fed by the dry letters, flared up and consumed the nightgown as well. Heste tried to salvage any unburned scraps, but Claire kicked her away. Black mana flickered; there was nothing Heste could do.
Before her eyes, the things that had soothed her childhood emptiness were vanishing. Every memory of living as ordinary Heste while she spent time with Claire turned to ash.
“...Aren’t you worried about Reyan?”
Heste called his name like a plea.
“Look at me the way you look at Reyan. Hold me. Let me comfort you. If you don’t, I can’t help him.”
“…”
“If I don’t help, Reyan really will get hurt. You can’t stop people like Duke Ephedrine or the idiot nobles who want to attack Gerox, can you?”
Claire stepped closer and raised her hand once more. Heste squeezed her eyes shut.
But instead of pain, she felt Claire’s fingers gently stroking her cheek.
“...Heste. If Reyan gets hurt because you refuse to help him…”
It will be a problem. I’ll suffer terribly. So please help, and I’ll keep our old relationship. That’s what you want to say, isn’t it? Because you’re kind, you’ll allow at least that much, right?
That was what Heste imagined.
“...I’ll kill myself. Right in front of you. Without Reyan, what would be the point of living?”
The answer that came back was devastating.
“L-lie. You cried over a paper cut. You were in pain even if a single hair fell out! How could someone like you talk about dying…!”
When Heste doubted her, Claire pulled the candle from its holder without hesitation. She raised it high, just as she had when she slapped her, and drove it straight into her own thigh.
Blood sprayed. Heste nearly fainted from shock and screamed.
“A-aaaaaaaah—! What are you doing, Claire—! What are you doing?!”
Without even wiping the blood from her face, Heste yanked the candlestick out of Claire’s thigh and hurled it aside. She poured white mana into the wound, healing it instantly. Fresh skin bloomed without a scar, yet in her eyes the deep puncture still looked like an open hole.
“It’s not a lie. If Reyan gets hurt, I die too.”
Heste could not even argue. She shook her head in terror.
“And never look at me with those disgusting eyes again.”
Even so, the realization that this was the end tightened around Heste like a noose.
“...R-Reyan needs me by his side. At least… until I become the family head.”
Still crying, without even wiping her tears, Heste stroked the top of Claire’s foot and begged.
“...Hic, hic… Just allow that much. I-I can’t help someone without any justification. I-I’m still only the young head.”
Just as she had planned when Reyan first came to her. Now she understood that staying by Reyan’s side was the only way she could remain near Claire.