The Villainess Redeems Herself, The Beast Husbands are in a Daily Love Battle-Chapter 176: It Wasn’t on Purpose

Her paw unconsciously moved forward a small step, and her tail quietly wrapped around her hind leg.

"Oh."

Selene Kane lengthened her tone, pretending to be sad.

"Forget it, then. I’ll just tear it up."

She deliberately sighed, her brows slightly furrowed, but the corners of her mouth quietly lifted.

As soon as she finished speaking, she really raised her hand to tear it.

Her fingers pinched the corner of the drawing paper, making a forceful gesture, while her eyes quietly watched Claire Joyce’s reaction.

Claire Joyce, scared, immediately lunged forward, grabbed her hand, and fiercely bit the corner of the paper.

"Don’t tear it! I love it! I really love it!"

She almost instinctively rushed over.

Her teeth gripped the edge of the paper, fearing that if she let go, the artwork would be destroyed.

As soon as she finished shouting, she realized what she had done.

It’s over, completely over now.

How could she be so undignified?

Selene Kane looked down at her, smiling as if she’d stolen honey.

Claire Joyce, actually more than anyone, yearns to be liked, to be treated gently.

Actually, Selene Kane didn’t really intend to forgive her.

But for now, having one more friend is better than having one more enemy.

This is a lesson she’s learned from countless brushes with death.

The days of struggling at the bottom have long taught her what reality is.

Feelings are a luxury, while survival is the first priority.

Those who once stepped on her, mocked her, most of them are nowhere to be found now.

And those who truly helped her, even with just a thread of sentiment, she remembers them well.

But ever since the storm at The Royal Palace, she completely awoke.

That night, the blood-red glow reflected off the palace walls, the sound of swords tearing through the silence.

Those Beast Husbands, who usually flattered her in every way, vowed their loyalty, promised to always be on her side.

But when The Royal Family ordered accountability, not one of them stood up to say a word for her.

Instead, they were the first to jump out and dissociate themselves.

Loyalty is their instinct, but she gradually understood.

This loyalty belongs only to bloodlines and status, not to any specific person.

She cannot expect them to betray their masters.

After much thinking, the only ones she could trust were those old buddies she’d known before.

Those familiar faces with whom she had shared cold bunks and eaten sour meals.

Now they lack power, lack background.

In this noble gathering of Aethelgard, they are just inconspicuous little figures.

But the important thing is, they are still here, and their hearts haven’t changed.

As long as she is willing to spend time, slowly teach them to work, quietly lead them through training.

In due time, these people will become her most reliable cards.

No rush.

She has time.

Whether it’s revenge or rebuilding, it’s never a matter of overnight success.

The most important thing now is to survive.

As long as she is alive, there’s a chance to turn the tables.

As long as she’s breathing, she can slowly reclaim what was lost.

Everything else can wait, but life cannot be lost.

If she were in that situation, she’d have long hated the person to the bone.

These years without children, clearly caused by her.

How could a mere "I haven’t blamed you" erase everything?

Who would believe those words when they came out?

"Don’t pretend to be nice. I don’t need your sympathy."

Clearly, her mind is swirling, wanting to say "I’m sorry," wanting to explain why she did what she did back then.

But once she opened her mouth, it still came out choking.

She knows these words hurt, knows she shouldn’t say them now.

But pride is like an iron wall, trapping her in place.

Claire Joyce urgently wanted to stomp her foot.

She actually really wanted to apologize, but the words always came out wrong.

Over so many years, the thorns between the two had long proliferated.

And she, personally planted the most thorns.

"What I mean is, I don’t need your forgiveness."

She finally changed her tune, her voice much lighter.

If she accepted this forgiveness, then wouldn’t the reasons she’s used to support herself all these years become a joke?

Selene Kane raised an eyebrow, almost ready to just throw her out the door.

She was well aware of the awkwardness in those words.

But she also understood that the person before her had never been good at expressing vulnerability.

However, she held back, pulling a smile that didn’t reach her eyes.

"It’s alright. I know you don’t really think that way. We grew up together, didn’t we? I know those little thoughts of yours better than anyone."

From childhood to adulthood, Claire Joyce was like this, the more she cares for someone, the more fiercely she lashes out at them.

Stealing her cakes when they were little, claiming it was because she ate too much once she was found out.

Covered her with blankets on winter nights, yet the next day chastised her for waking up late.

These little details, she remembers vividly.

She pinched Claire Joyce’s underarm with one hand, lifting her straight up.

Their eyes met, so close they could see the reflection in each other’s eyes.

"No matter what you’ve done, I’ve never blamed you."

There are indeed things she can’t let go of, but she chooses not to pursue them.

Because, compared to hatred, she needs allies more.

"I’ve known for a while. But they are things of the past now, aren’t they?"

She forcefully lowered her head, not wanting to let the other person see.

But she knew this time, perhaps it was truly different.

Tears fell, splashing onto the fur one after another.

"I didn’t mean to..."

She wanted to reach out to Selene Kane’s sleeve, but her fingertips paused mid-air.

Claire Joyce struggled, using all her strength to shake off the hand lightly pressing on her shoulder.

She took a few steps back, her legs giving way, sending her tumbling toward the bed.

The moment her body touched the mattress, a slight sound of bones realigning echoed.

Her skin shifted from gray-brown to a healthy bronze, her hair shortened, dark strands clinging to her forehead.

The leather jacket wrapped over her strong body again.

In the blink of an eye, the fragile wolf-shaped figure disappeared.

In its place was a spicy girl in a tight leather outfit.

She roughly wiped away the tears on her face with the back of her hand.

"I didn’t mean to harm you, really... I swear. I just heard that... those kinds of herbs... can make a person temporarily... unable to conceive..."

She paused for a moment, seeming unable even to convince herself, her fingers unconsciously picking at the edge of her clothes.

"I thought... if only I could... delay it a few months...then the Commander wouldn’t..."

Selene Kane felt a weight in her heart.

She stared at the sister who had shared her meals, shared her bed, with eyes devoid of anger, only filled with piercing coldness.

She knew full well Claire Joyce understood pharmacology.

The village elders had always said from a young age that when it came to identifying herbs, ten old apothecaries couldn’t beat her.

Back when Alza was delirious with fever for three days, the villagers helpless, it was Claire Joyce who climbed mountains overnight, crushed herbs to apply, brewed them into soup, forcibly pulling Alza from the hands of death.

Some of those herbs could save lives, some could take them.

She knew better than anyone which seemingly innocuous plant was, in fact, deadly.

Even at this stage, she was still looking for excuses, still trying to casually cover up that premeditated poisoning.

Selene Kane suddenly felt exhausted.

After years of pretending sisterly affection, was a "wasn’t intentional" supposed to settle it all?

She was too tired to act anymore.

"You... haven’t seen my child, have you?"

Her voice was light, as though asking in passing.

Claire Joyce froze, pupils shrinking slightly, instinctively shaking her head.

"No... no."