Until Claire Opens Her Heart (3)
Nobles liked to call themselves exalted aristocrats, but the truth was simpler: when problems arose, they solved everything with violence. Sword and magic users settled matters through sparring. Political players fought with schemes and intrigue. There was an old saying that avoiding conflict was the wisest path, but it had no place in this story. At least not for the nobles written into these pages.
A noble could rarely refuse a duel challenge from another noble. Honor was the foundation of their virtue, and turning down a fight was seen as cowardice. So when the young lady of the Artifare family—branded as the Empire’s sin and curse—publicly challenged the eldest son of the Luneira family, the very house that oversaw swordsmanship at Promion Academy, the nobles fell into stunned silence.
A casual spar in class was one thing. A duel that staked honor was another entirely. Even if the Artifare name had fallen from grace, it had once belonged to a ducal house. For Claire to request a duel on behalf of a commoner while putting her family’s remaining dignity on the line was shocking.
“Ha. This cursed bitch. Has she completely lost her mind and decided to die?”
Gerox glared down at her with open contempt, his anger raw and unfiltered. Yet anyone watching could see the flicker of panic beneath it. The hand he had casually tucked into his pocket in dismissal was now clenched at his side.
“...Yes. I want to die. Our family did wrong, but Reyan hasn’t done anything to deserve this!”
Claire stared straight into Gerox’s eyes. The weight of the surrounding gazes still pressed on her, but she turned to me, clenched her fists until her knuckles whitened, and forced the words out in a shout so she wouldn’t stutter.
“I-I don’t want my f-friend getting hurt because of m-me!”
After enduring endless torment for so long, she had pushed through her terror to stand up for me—her “friend.”
“S-so...”
Claire walked forward, holding my hand tightly as the nobles parted before us. She glanced back at Gerox. The fear that had once made her tremble seemed to have poured out with that shout. Her red eyes slowly darkened, shifting toward black.
“Follow us to the training grounds.”
On the way there, I spoke quietly.
“...Claire, you don’t have to do this for me.”
I meant it, but she shook her head.
“...It’s for me.”
She squeezed my hand harder, as if trying to hide her trembling, as if telling me not to stop her. She led me out of the library without another word. Our footsteps carried us steadily toward the training grounds.
...
Claire had been alone since childhood. More accurately, she had been forced to be alone.
The Artifare family had ignited a civil war so devastating it reduced the Empire’s promised eternal glory to ashes. From the moment she was born and began forming memories, she existed as a fallen noble from a ruined house. She had no choice but to carry the world’s resentment, hatred, and fury for the scars her family had left behind.
Her father, stripped of all his lands, had been forced to live among commoners and was eventually murdered by a criminal syndicate. That wasn’t the end of it. The families of servants who had served the Artifares for centuries were harassed simply because they refused to torment Claire. The stress made them ill, and they died one by one.
Left completely alone at fifteen, Claire’s method of survival was simple. Going outside meant facing insults, abuse, and beatings from both nobles and commoners who saw her as fair game. So she sold the valuable jewels and artifacts left in the mansion through the servants she was required to employ, barely keeping herself alive.
Yet even in that tragic existence, there was no law saying she had to die. The mansion became her playground, her sanctuary. One day, in that isolated world shielded from outside pain, a girl with snow-white hair appeared.
“I’m Heste. Who are you?”
“...M-me?”
The noble girl who introduced herself as Heste said she had come out of curiosity—adults claimed this place was cursed, and she wanted to see if the rumors were true.
Claire had already watched her beloved father, mother, the old servant, and his family leave, suffer, and die. Even though she longed to talk to the stranger, she drove her away. Still, Heste returned every day, just like Reyan would later. She brought food, sometimes frogs she had caught, sometimes pretty stones or jewels.
Unlike with Reyan, Claire opened her heart to Heste almost immediately. For years, her only conversations had been brief requests to servants to buy or sell things. Simply talking with a girl her own age felt like hope.
“What’s your name?”
“...Cl-Claire.”
“Claire? That’s beautiful! I’m Heste. Am I pretty too?”
“Yes... you s-seem pretty.”
“Why are you crying?”
“...Huh? Am I?”
“Yes.”
“M-must be dust in my eyes.”
“Really? Then I’ll blow it away for you!”
Heste became Claire’s first friend. A noble who wouldn’t be hurt by associating with her, who would return even if driven away and ask to play again. A friend who treasured her as much as Claire treasured her.
But not everyone could look at Claire with such pure eyes.
“Want to come to my house?”
Unaware of the world’s cruelty, Heste would sneak into the mansion to spend time with her secret friend. Taking pity on the girl who spent every day alone, she invited Claire to visit her own family estate.
“I-I can’t. Everyone hates me.”
Claire refused at first, but a small part of her—the part that desperately craved the affection Heste offered—wondered if she could accept.
“You really won’t come? I want to play with you, Claire.”
“...I-I’ll go.”
“Really!?”
“Yes. I’ll go, Heste.”
When Heste asked again, Claire pretended to accept reluctantly. The girl’s bright smile as she insisted her parents were different, that they were kind and would surely like Claire, became the final push.
“...H-hello. I’m Cl-Claire...”
“Why is an Artifare standing next to you, Heste?”
“...Father?”
“Did this filthy whore cast some vile curse on you!?”
The day she visited Heste’s mansion, everything shattered. Heste was slapped by her parents. Claire was chased out amid a torrent of curses and hatred.
“Get lost, you cursed bitch.”
“Do you even know how many people died because of your grandfather? I’d love to tear you apart right now, but as a noble I must restrain myself. So disappear!”
Claire had always believed everyone hated her, so the verbal abuse and violence were almost expected. But when even Heste pushed her away...
“Don’t come near me!”
“H-Heste...?”
“If I had known you were from the Artifare family, I never would have gotten close to you!”
The lunchbox Claire had carefully prepared and the small necklace she had made fell to the ground. She ran back to the mansion, pulled the blanket over her head, and cried for hours.
Why can’t I have even one friend? I didn’t choose to be born. Why do people hate me and torment me like this? Why does everyone treat me like a toy? What did I do wrong that I have to pay for my grandfather’s sins? Why not just kill me instead of leaving me alive?
Her curses toward the heavens changed nothing. After Heste visited the mansion a few more times and pelted her with dirt and food, Claire smiled bitterly and never stepped outside again.
That isolation lasted until she turned nineteen and became an adult. She was required to attend the academy. She had nothing left to lose, so she could have simply stayed hidden in the mansion. But the only thing remaining was the house where her parents had lived—her one space without pain. Unable to pay the fine for neglecting her duty, she was forced to enroll.
Before, she could hide. Now even that was impossible. The scars on her forearms multiplied as she scratched at them, but the pain never ended. In the end, to avoid physical torment from the nobles, she joined the commoners’ classes.
That was when Reyan approached her, just like Heste had. The difference was that he already knew she was Claire Artifare.
“They’re complete bastards, aren’t they?”
The moment Reyan cursed the nobles, she saw the commoners’ eyes turn to him. She was grateful someone would speak up for her, but she had learned people could change at any moment—just like Heste.
“...Don’t toy with me.”
She pushed him away, but he didn’t leave. Even when the commoners mocked him, Reyan kept looking after her. He would cut the bread he received from the bakery and share it with her.
“You’ll abandon me eventually anyway.”
Claire was terrified of opening her heart to him. She had been through this before. If he suffered because of her, he would surely discard her like Heste had.
It made her angry. If you’re going to throw me away, why are you so kind? Why give me hope? As an imperial citizen, you should hate me too.
It wasn’t his fault, but the warmth and consideration she received from him hurt more than the bullying and isolation. The hope that maybe she could live normally became her greatest despair.
So she hid, refusing to look at that hope.
“Claire.”
Yet Reyan still came. He called her name, brought food because he was worried, and cleaned up the graffiti, trash, and cursed photographs left for her.
“Claire.”
While working at the adventurers’ guild, he talked about venturing outside together someday. He apologized for things that weren’t his fault. When she needed potions, he knew she had been badly hurt. Even after nearly dying to an orc, he came to tell her the story, laughing as he called the nobles pathetic and chuckling when mentioning the duel.
“Claire, I’ll head out now.”
Every time he left, Claire would unconsciously walk to the front door but could never bring herself to open it. She was still too afraid. She told herself that once she sorted out her feelings, she would thank him properly.
Then, without warning, Reyan stopped coming.
“The duel...”
Claire assumed something had gone wrong during the match. She knew she should go to the academy to check, but she couldn’t bear the thought of seeing him perfectly fine. If he was safe and well, it would mean he had been toying with her—just like Heste, who had given her hope only to snatch it away.
In the end, she wandered around her house like a fool. She ate nothing. She spoke to no one. She simply sat in front of the door and waited.
Then Reyan appeared. A bruise darkened his eye. Wounds marked his exposed skin. Mud covered his hands, and through his damp shirt she could see layers of bandages. She didn’t know the full story, but she believed he had been hurt because of her. It was paranoia, yet given how everyone connected to the Artifare name had suffered or died, it felt like truth to her.
She was terrified. Terrified of being abandoned again. Thinking it would be better to end things while the memories were still good, she hid inside the house. But Reyan ran up and urgently offered her a sandwich. Even when she tried to slam the door and his wounds reopened, he said nothing cruel.
When she asked why he treated her so well, he answered simply, “...You must have had a really hard time.” No fancy words. Just comfort.
Claire couldn’t hold back her tears. The sandwich was stained with mud and looked terrible, yet it tasted more delicious and precious than anything she had ever eaten.
From that day on, Reyan became her only friend. No—more than a friend. He became her precious person. The one person who stood by her side when everyone else cursed her. The one whose presence alone could wash away painful memories.
Claire was still afraid of nobles. But when she learned the person who had beaten Reyan so brutally was one of them, courage surged through her. She had never properly learned magic or swordsmanship because of her fear.
Yet she stepped forward.
“Follow us to the training grounds.”
She did it for Reyan, just as he had come to her every single day for her sake.
So when he looked at her with worried eyes and said, “...Claire, you don’t have to do this duel for me,” her answer came from the heart.
“...It’s for me.”
And it was true. The duel was right before her, but she no longer felt fear or trembling.