Chapter 30…
While Vestas was momentarily distracted, Clarissa dashed out.
No one managed to stop Clarissa as she suddenly burst away.
Leaping straight into the carriage, Clarissa shouted,
“Go! Now! If you don’t want to see someone die!”
Bang—she slammed her fist against the carriage wall, hurling a bone-chilling threat. The coachman instinctively tightened his grip on the reins.
The two horses sprang forward at once, pounding the ground as they took off.
“Lady Clarissa!”
“Clarissa!”
Voices called out desperately from behind her.
But nothing reached her ears anymore.
She clasped her small hands together.
Silently—only for one person—she prayed.
That night, John Martin, the knight assigned to guard Count Matthias’s residence, was fast asleep as usual, using grass and a low fence as his pillow.
Suddenly, someone kicked his shin hard.
A burning pain shot through him, and John’s eyes flew open.
With a startled cry, he shouted like thunder,
“W-Who goes there?!”
He clutched the sword at his waist, but the person who had kicked him stood there with arms crossed, looking down at him as if he were pathetic.
Golden eyes that gleamed even in the night, and thick chocolate-colored hair—John knew that girl all too well.
“M-Marchioness Lisette’s daughter?”
“I know who I am. Just open the door.”
Clarissa von Lisette, dressed in her nightclothes, spoke with her usual arrogant expression.
John wondered if he was dreaming, but the pain in his shin was far too real.
The dark predawn sky filled his vision, the mansion gates still tightly shut—his reason warned him.
He must not let this girl inside.
Summoning his professional instincts, John shook his head.
“But—”
He hurriedly tried to scramble to his feet.
“Still can’t judge the situation?”
Before he could even stand up—
Bang!
Clarissa’s foot slammed into the spot right in front of his face.
Like a clanging iron gate, John’s voice jumped in pitch.
“I—I’m sorry!”
He hastily got up and opened the door.
Clarissa watched the entrance open with a stiff expression, then stepped inside without the slightest hesitation.
The Matthias estate, surrounded by forest, felt unusually cold—and strangely noisy.
As she moved forward, hugging herself against the creeping chill, she heard the yipping cry of a small animal.
Yap! Yap!
A white creature wagging its tail appeared at her feet, its pale body visible even in the darkness.
“…Huey.”
Clarissa carefully picked Huey up.
The fact that Huey—who should have been by his side—had come out to greet her ignited her unease.
Her pace quickened.
“Let’s go.”
To your master.
Thanks to the commotion in the mansion, it was easy to run straight to Aryan’s room.
As she reached the door, light leaked out from inside, along with faint sobbing.
“Aryan!”
She called his name first, driven by urgency.
But when she kicked the door open, the scene before her was—
Aryan lying unconscious with bandages wrapped around his head, and—
“Oh, Lady Clarissa.”
Seated before him was Lady Belissa, delicate and beautiful, her red lips trembling as she dotted clear tears onto a pure white handkerchief.
“I thought you would come.”
Her damp voice was painfully fragile, pitiful even.
But Clarissa saw it clearly.
Beneath the handkerchief blotting away her tears, the faint upward curve of Belissa’s lips.
“You…!”
Pushing through the startled servants, Clarissa strode forward and seized Belissa’s wrist, the one holding the handkerchief.
“What did you do to Aryan?!”
Belissa stared at Clarissa in shock for a moment, then bowed her head and began to sob.
“H-hic…!”
“My lady!”
Two or three servants rushed to Belissa’s side, supporting her as she staggered.
Huey, cradled in Clarissa’s arms, bared his teeth at Belissa.
“I’m sorry. It’s all my carelessness…”
“It was an accident! We all saw it happen!”
“That’s right. Who could’ve known Lord Aryan would lose his footing?”
“If only I’d grabbed Aryan at the time…”
Watching Belissa, Clarissa clicked her tongue. It felt as if heat rushed straight to the top of her head.
Clenching her fist tightly, she warned Belissa,
“Hah, do you think I don’t know? You did it on purpose—!”
“What are you saying?! Our lady would never do such a thing!”
“Y-Yes. I don’t know what misunderstanding you’ve had for some time now, but—”
Before she could say more, the servants immediately rushed in, shaking their heads as they shielded Belissa. Clarissa could only swallow her anger.
Belissa, meanwhile, said nothing in her defense—she only wept sorrowfully.
She looked so pitiful that even Clarissa, who had grasped most of the situation, flinched for a moment.
Clarissa quickly shook her head and steadied herself.
You think I’d fall for such cheap acting?
This was her method.
Pretend to be the most fragile one, turn the other person into trash, and bury them alive. She wasn’t afraid of that anymore.
Being pointed at, becoming someone whose name alone caused people to recoil—she was used to that.
So she decided to give them exactly what they wanted.
No matter how terrible she had to become, the truth had to come out.
“Clarissa.”
But that resolve shattered the moment a familiar voice sounded behind her.
“That’s enough.”
“F-Father?”
The instant she saw who the voice belonged to, Clarissa swallowed her breath.
Just as Clarissa herself had earlier, Vestas stepped forward without hesitation and grabbed her wrist.
When Clarissa’s gaze fell on his large hand, Vestas suddenly inclined his head toward an unexpected direction.
“My apologies for the disturbance late at night, Countess Matthias.”
“Not at all. You were simply worried about our Aryan.”
Belissa shook her head, wiping away her tears—wearing a faint smile that did nothing to stop them.
Clarissa struggled to understand the situation unfolding before her.
“As parents, we find this deeply unfortunate.”
“Thank you, Marquis Lisette.”
“I’ll send our personal physician tomorrow morning.”
“Thank you for your consideration.”
As the adults exchanged words, Clarissa bit her lower lip, forcing herself to stay composed.
No. I can’t leave like this.
She twisted her body, trying to pull her wrist free first.
But the more she struggled, the tighter Vestas’s grip became.
“Father! Just a moment!”
“Clarissa. We’ll talk when we get home.”
Her wrist throbbed with pain. Unable to endure it, she pleaded—but only a cold response came back.
She wasn’t so young that she couldn’t understand his heart. And yet, disappointment surged first.
Her eyes burned red.
Her pride wouldn’t allow her to shed tears.
Enduring until the very last moment, she cried out desperately,
“Dad!”
“Let’s be going.”
Ignoring Clarissa, Vestas offered Belissa a farewell.
Then, pressing his lips tightly together as if swallowing his anger, he dragged Clarissa back the way they had come.
As Clarissa struggled to break free from his grip until the very end, her eyes caught the sight of Aryan still lying there with his eyes closed—
And beside him, the demon-like woman watching over him.
“Yes. Please, take care…”
A beautiful smile curved Belissa’s lips.
The clear tears clinging to her lashes finally stopped, after the very last drop.
Damn it. Damn it. Damn it.
Watching Belissa’s smile, radiant with triumph, Clarissa barely managed to swallow her curses.
She glared at her as if she might tear her apart with her eyes.
That was all she could do.
