Do You Love Me? (3)
Claire glared down at Heste with eyes full of pure contempt. The disgust ran so deep it had twisted into outright rage. Even though this wasn’t a situation that should have shattered her mentally, her pupils darkened to pitch black.
Disgusting. Not satisfied with loving a woman, now she wanted to stay by the side of the person she’d deliberately broken? Claiming she could only help him if she remained at Reyan’s side?
Crack—!
Claire seized a fistful of Heste’s hair and yanked her head up. Strands of pure white hair slipped between her fingers. Tears mixed with fear streamed down Heste’s face, and even that only fueled Claire’s revulsion.
Black mana surged and writhed around Heste like it might kill her at any moment, yet it didn’t. It clamped down hard on her throat, as if determined to stop her from drawing even a single breath—then stopped short, having vented just enough of Claire’s fury.
Heste’s body trembled violently. She looked up at Claire with a strangely heated gaze, cheeks flushed. The rage directed solely at her, the violent attention—it seemed to satisfy Heste instead. Her body grew damp with sweat and a sick, feverish heat.
Claire desperately held her emotions in check. In her heart she wanted to do the exact same thing to Heste that Heste had done to Reyan… but paradoxically, Heste was someone Claire still needed. At the very least, she had to serve as the umbrella that would shield Reyan.
Reyan was gone. Reyan had left her.
Why?
Because she’d toyed with Heste, because she’d framed someone right in front of Runyang. Reyan had clutched his chest like his heart was breaking, so heartbroken he looked like he might shatter. For the first time, he had cried in front of her. When she’d said she was anxious, he had spoken the cruelest words of love—just as she had once done to Heste.
Claire wanted to find Reyan, but she knew she couldn’t. He had asked for time. He had said they should end things while sharing a meal. She had wanted to run to him, fall to her knees, kiss the tops of his feet, but she was certain he wouldn’t accept it. The fear of being hated by him was simply too terrifying.
She knew giving him time was the right thing to do. But selfishly, she wanted to see Reyan right now. She needed someone who could mend their relationship, yet that person being Heste made her sick. She was a girl who might do anything. Still, Claire knew there was no one else.
Crash—!
Instead of attacking Heste, Claire slammed her against the table. The table splintered with a deafening crack from the force of the mana, and several large wooden shards stabbed into Heste’s skin. But pure white mana flowed out at once, healing the wounds in seconds.
Heste lay sprawled on the floor, smiling up at Claire. She didn’t even need to ask; she could tell Claire’s thoughts were filled with Reyan. Just as Heste was always thinking of Claire, she knew Claire was always thinking of Reyan.
Even if every hidden feeling had been exposed, even if their relationship had been shattered beyond repair, even if it was now nothing but ashes like the burned letters and nightgown—if she could just protect that relationship, she could stay by Claire’s side somehow. And if she managed to win Reyan’s heart according to the original plan… she might find another chance to claim Claire again. Instead of clinging like this, perhaps in just a few hours Claire would be the one clinging to her, begging to sleep together again.
That was why Heste was so desperate. She would have licked the tops of Claire’s feet if it meant gaining permission. Her pure white hair was smeared with ashes, turning a dull gray. Her snow-white skin became mottled and dirty. The corners of her mouth, which had always curved into a smile, now drooped, openly revealing her emotions.
Heste staggered to her feet and approached Claire. Instead, Claire began slowly backing away.
Step—
Step—
Step—!
Heste stood right in front of Claire. Her breathing was ragged, her eyes glazed with something like pleasure. It was as if she truly felt ecstasy from having Claire’s full attention focused solely on her. Her fingertips trembled as she barely managed to swallow.
Without any hesitation, as if nothing in the world could stop her, Heste reached out and placed her hand on Claire’s shoulder.
And then she smiled.
Heste removed her hand from Claire’s shoulder and only then wiped away the tears that had been falling.
When Heste spoke as if she were worried, Claire’s face burned crimson.
Slap—!
The hand wrapped in black mana struck her cheek again. This time blood dribbled from the corner of Heste’s mouth.
Heste gently stroked the cheek Claire had struck, as if it were something precious. With tear-filled eyes, still slumped on the floor, she looked up at Claire. The tears that had pooled spilled down her cheeks and soaked into the ash-covered floor. Her face was flushed, her breathing ragged, but Heste put on the perfect “mask” of a Meliard noble daughter so that Claire would not find her repulsive.
As if she had decided to live as the proper young lady of the Meliard family.
She spoke in a perfectly polite, formal tone. In the end, after a long moment of inner conflict, Claire gave a small nod.
It wasn’t because she trusted Heste. It was a truly terrifying thought, but if Heste ever stepped out of line, Claire planned to harm herself right in front of her eyes. She would make sure Heste could never entertain such ideas again.
If stabbing her thigh didn’t work, she would stab her stomach. If that still didn’t work, she would stab her own heart as if she truly meant to die.
Yet the reason she allowed it was simple. No matter how disgusting and vulgar Heste was, Reyan—who had staggered away wounded and betrayed—was far more precious to Claire. And avoiding any further hatred from that Reyan was even more important. So important that her anxiety over something that hadn’t even happened yet couldn’t even begin to compare.
There’s no way Reyan will ever come to like Heste.
Claire spoke without even looking at her.
Heste smiled, but Claire could not.
Whoosh—!
A gust of wind blew, making the curtains flutter. It must have been strong; the window that had been slightly ajar flew open with a clatter, scattering the ashes of Heste’s memories across the bedroom. Even while wearing her mask, the sight must have hurt, because Heste clutched at her chest.
Whether she did or not, Claire paid no attention to the filthy, disgusting trash who might have even replaced her own servants with people loyal to her. All Claire could think about was that Heste had hurt Reyan. That she had deceived him. That she had harmed Runyang. Right now, guilt and sorrow over those things weighed heavily on her.
Wondering if looking outside would help, she walked to the window and gazed up at the sky. Beyond the moonlit glass, the moon hung high.
Between the dark heavens, countless stars glittered. Even though it was nearly dawn, the round full moon shone down on everyone who remained awake for their own reasons. The moonlight illuminated all equally.
It shone on Claire, who had learned a shocking truth and was drowning in regret. It shone on Heste, drunk on emotions that deserved burning at the stake, committing acts so wicked she could be called a witch. It shone on Runyang, who now sat on the roof of the Fairy Tail guild with her hood pulled low, sobbing as she stared at the moon. And of course, it shone on Reyan as well.
With the moonlight on his back, Reyan staggered endlessly. He had drunk far too much. Every step forward was followed by two steps backward. He kept stumbling and falling forward.
He had drunk to soothe his emotions, but they only grew larger.
On nights like this, Claire had always been in his arms. Her warm body heat, her gentle voice, her sleep-talking. The ticklish brush of her breath against his skin. All of it was gone. Only the cold, rough surface of the stone floor scraped against his skin.
He vomited. The image of Claire hurting Runyang rose in his mind. Then the memory of himself, too afraid of losing Claire to go comfort Runyang instead. If he had chosen Claire, he should have at least taken care of one of them. The coward who had fled like a dog came to mind.
Fucking disgusting.
Reyan slammed his head against the ground. The pain seemed to wash away some of the nausea. But if there was one thing that refused to disappear, it was the image of Claire—despite how repulsive his behavior had been.
“…Heh.”
A hollow laugh escaped him. As if trying to refill what he had just emptied, Reyan lifted the bottle in his hand and drank straight from it. When it was empty, there was nothing left to drink.
Reyan lay down somewhere on the roadside, murmuring her name over and over. A few homeless people crept closer, hoping to steal the coins from his pocket and run, but to him right now, that wasn’t much of a problem at all.