Chapter 2
Claire was born in a cabin nestled deep within the mountains.
She was the child born from a forbidden love—between the frail youngest son of a count’s family and a mercenary assigned as his guard, who had fled together under the cover of night.
“Sweetheart! Shall we try making an apple pie today?”
“Yes! I love the apple pie you make, Dad.”
“Your wrist will hurt. I’ll carry Claire.”
A gentle and kind father, and a steadfast, strong mother.
Though their beginning had been somewhat turbulent, there was no denying that theirs was, in the end, a warm and loving family. After all, her parents loved each other more than anything in the world.
But perhaps that love became a poison.
“Claire, stay home until I return. I won’t be long.”
When Claire turned ten, her frail father finally passed away.
Veronica, who had spent several days in a daze, her face hollow with grief, began packing her belongings to leave the cabin as soon as the funeral ended.
“Can’t I come with you?”
“…I’m sorry. This is something I have to finish myself. I’ll be back soon.”
On a day when rain poured relentlessly, Veronica left like that.
From that day on, Claire clung to the window, waiting for her return all day long—but a week later, the only thing that came back to the cabin was news of Veronica’s death, delivered by Angela.
“Why?”
The question lingered. But Angela explained nothing. She only said it had been a terribly unfortunate accident, and that Veronica had wished for Claire’s happiness—that was all.
Realizing that no matter how much she pressed, Angela would not speak further, Claire fell silent.
In the now-empty cabin, where happiness had vanished, Claire endured alone—trying to become happy, just as her mother had wished.
It was a harsh situation for a ten-year-old child, but she could not go down to the village where people lived.
Though only a quarter beastkin, Claire possessed an exceptionally high concentration of the beastkin’s innate power—“Wildness.”
Beastkin with strong Wildness possessed physical abilities far beyond those of humans.
Young as she was, Claire could not control that power. And so, the path she chose was to train her Wildness so that she could live an ordinary life.
Years passed like that.
Aside from Angela, who periodically visited to deliver supplies, Claire lived quietly in the mountains, with little interaction with others.
When an environment remains constant long enough, it becomes a pattern.
‘Do I really need to go down to the village? I feel like I could just keep living like this.’
Just as such thoughts began to take root, a problem arose.
“I’ve run out of money.”
Living in the mountains didn’t mean she didn’t need daily necessities.
Hunting and gathering alone had their limits when it came to living like a human.
Of course, if she had told Angela—who brought her supplies—she would have gladly provided what she needed. After all, it had been Claire who insisted on paying her, even though Angela had refused to accept money in the first place.
But Claire didn’t want to burden her any longer.
‘I’m already eighteen. I can’t rely on Angela forever.’
And so, Claire decided to descend the mountain.
She would go to the village, earn a large sum of money, and return. She would soon be an adult—it was time to learn to stand on her own.
The first step toward that goal was to subdue—no, to serve—the feral, wildcat-like young master standing before her.
“Can’t you hear me?”
As if throwing the candlestick hadn’t been enough, Theodore clenched his teeth and staggered to his feet, lurching toward her.
Standing before the enraged Theodore, Claire’s expression remained indifferent.
It was the complete opposite of Theodore, who trembled with fury, his face like that of a demon.
“Get out!”
With dry, ashen hair, dull blue eyes, and a gaunt face and body—
Objectively, he was handsome. But his haggard appearance and savage expression made him look like a monster straight out of a ghost story.
Claire calmly observed the man approaching her and thought:
‘He’s fairly tall, but awfully thin for a nineteen-year-old. Do they not feed the young master here?’
Scruffy and prickly—he reminded her of a baby raccoon she had once seen.
‘That white raccoon I saw near the rocky hill. It was really cute.’
Theodore stopped right in front of her and stared intently.
His bloodshot eyes were menacing, but to Claire, he looked like an overconfident raccoon baring its tiny front teeth and growling.
“You.”
“Yes.”
“Do you find me amusing?”
“No, not at all. But… are you perhaps in more urgent need of relieving yourself than washing up?”
At that question, the raccoon—no, Theodore—let out a bizarre scream and lunged at her.
‘Oh. The raccoon’s biting.’
Startled, Claire—who had been lost in her thoughts without a shred of tension—threw a punch.
Thud.
“Ah.”
That was a mistake.
She hadn’t even swung that hard, yet Theodore was sent flying like a sheet of paper, slammed into the wall, and collapsed.
‘I’m not worried about you—I’m worried about the young master! Do you have any idea how serious injuring a noble is?!’
Angela’s voice echoed in her mind like an illusion.
“Y-Young master?”
How was she supposed to fix this?
Claire hurried over to the unconscious Theodore. Fortunately—or unfortunately—there was no blood or visible injury.
“Did he just faint from shock?”
How could a human be this fragile?
In Claire’s mind, Theodore’s durability dropped significantly.
Scratching her cheek as she looked down at him sprawled on the floor, she suddenly clapped her hands softly.
She had an idea.
“Ugh…”
Theodore groaned as he opened his eyes.
He had rarely woken up comfortably due to the constant headaches that gripped his skull—but today, strangely, even his back and waist ached.
Pushing aside the soft blanket, he sat up and turned his head.
Someone was in the room.
“Good morning, Young Master.”
Claire, who had been preparing a basin of water beside the bedside table, bowed politely.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you. My name is Claire, and I will be serving you starting today.”
The solution Claire had come up with to deal with knocking Theodore out—
Was to feign ignorance.
“…A pleasure to meet you?”
“Yes. It is our first meeting, is it not?”
Is there a problem?—her wide, round eyes seemed to ask as they gazed at him.
A chill ran down Theodore’s spine, and he instinctively averted his gaze.
“…I must have imagined it.”
Watching his drained expression, Claire thought:
‘Hmm, he snapped earlier, but now he’s suddenly acting sane again.’
That was useful information for serving him in the future.
“Shall I prepare your meal?”
At that, Theodore shook his head.
“My head hurts. Forget the meal—just leave.”
With that, he flopped back down and pulled the blanket over his head.
This time, Claire obediently left the bedroom.
‘He’s so skinny—he really should eat something.’
She had failed to get him to eat, but still, hadn’t she done quite well?
A sense of satisfaction filled her.
‘Working life isn’t a big deal after all. Maybe Angela just worries too much because she’s getting older.’
At this rate, earning the amount she wanted in a few months seemed entirely possible.
In a good mood, Claire headed into the break room next to the storage area used by the servants. The people chatting in small groups fell silent the moment she entered, staring at her as if they had seen a ghost.
“You… you woke the young master, right?”
Alice, the maid who had guided her earlier, asked suspiciously. Claire shrugged.
“Yes. You saw me enter the bedroom. He woke up, said he wanted to sleep a bit more, so I just left.”
Alice narrowed her eyes.
She had definitely seen it. And she had clearly heard things breaking and shattering inside.
‘Then how is she completely fine?’
Anyone who entered Theodore’s room usually came out with something broken.
“…Looks like you got lucky.”
Even as she said it, Alice couldn’t completely hide her discomfort.
‘Is she upset that I came out unharmed? Why?’
The question arose, but Claire found it more bothersome than intriguing, so she chose to remain silent.
‘Did they make a bet or something?’
Whatever the situation, as long as she got paid, that was all that mattered.
“Nothing unusual happened?”
Alice probed carefully. Claire shook her head.
“No. He expresses himself clearly and doesn’t make many demands, so there wasn’t much to do.”
He certainly expressed himself clearly—he had hurled a candlestick straight at her head. What clearer way was there to tell someone to leave?
A snorting, white raccoon.
He was fierce, but not unmanageable—just a bit troublesome.
“I… see.”
Alice’s face stiffened as though she had heard something strange, and she quickly left.
Claire watched her go for a moment before heading toward the dining hall.
‘I should prepare the young master’s meal in advance.’
At this rate, she was an exceptionally capable maid.
It was her first time working, but all things considered—
It had been a pretty good first day.
