I burst out of the empty classroom onto the barely crowded hallway. I was on a strict time limit to find Clara.

I didn't have time to worry about my dignity; I had a much bigger problem. If Clara reached the directors and reported this for real, I’d be branded a documented abuser.

I scanned the corridor, my head whipping left and right. Then I heard the faint, rhythmic sound of boots against the floor echo from the end of the hall.

The western staircase. Got it!

I took off immediately. The warmth on my forehead was assuredly gone, and thanks to her healing, I hadn’t felt any better since yesterday. So I managed to sprint in record time. I had enough rumors about me being lovey-dovey with each other. I wouldn’t want to be seen as some abusive elitist noble next!

“Clara, wait!” I shouted, my voice bouncing off the high-arched ceilings.

I saw her halfway up the stairs, her silhouette framed by the stained glass of the landing. She didn't slow down. Her steps were firm, echoing a terrifying sense of purpose. I lunged forward, closing the gap, and reached out to grab her by the wrist.

She spun around instantly. There was no warmth in her expression, just pure determination to bring justice. A face I didn’t expect to see on her.

She’s taking this way too seriously!

“I told you to wait in the room, didn’t I?” she said. It sounded less like a question, more like a reprimand.

“Please… just listen to me. You’ve got this all wrong! It’s a complete misunderstanding!”

Clara went silent. She looked down at me, her eyes narrowed as if she were trying to solve a particularly frustrating puzzle. Then, she let out a long, weary sigh and shook her head, her expression softening into something akin to… pity.

“Feyt… why are you so insistent on protecting her?” she asked, her voice dropping to a whisper. “Even after what she did to you? Even after she left that bruise on you?”

“I swear, she did nothing!” I protested, my hands flying up in a frantic gesture of innocence. “I really, truly, a-hundred-percent got this from a ball hitting my face!”

“A ball… caused that bruise?” she repeated. Her tone was flat, skeptical.

I nodded vigorously. “Yes! It was an accident! And also a coincidence!”

A heavy silence followed. Clara hung her head, her bangs casting a shadow over her eyes.

Then, she clicked her tongue… a sharp, frustrated sound that made even me flinch.

“This… this is about your future, isn’t it?”

I blinked. “Huh? My future?”

What did that have to do with anything?

She took two slow, deliberate steps down the stairs until we were standing on the same level. The height difference vanished, but the intensity in the air only thickened.

Before I could process anything, she reached out and took hold of my hand, her grip firm and warm. She stared directly into my eyes with a look of terrifying, unwavering confidence.

“Feyt… Work for me instead.”

My brain stopped. “...Huh??”

“You don’t have to force yourself to work under Carine,” she continued, ignoring my confusion. “I’ve seen how she treats you. I’ve seen the way you have to walk on eggshells. Please, you don't have to stay like that anymore. Train and work as my bodyguard instead. I may be a commoner now, but I have a very clear idea of where I’m going. I have supporters. I have a path.”

“Clara, I—I don’t think you—”

“I don’t know if I’ll be able to provide as much payment as a house like Carine’s, at least not at first,” she said, her gaze locking onto mine like a ritual blade. “But I promise you this… I will treat you better than she ever could. You don’t need to lower yourself anymore, Feyt. You can be proud of your skills instead of being treated like some... disposable tool.”

I stared at her, my mouth hanging open. She wasn't just missing the point; she was writing a whole new book at this point.

“You know I’m right… Don’t you? Don’t let your pain and effort go to waste… just for some mere coin…”

The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

For a moment, the frantic pace in my brain went silent, replaced with a weight in my chest.

I looked at Clara’s hand gripping mine. Her offer was more than generous; it was enough to be called a lifeline. She held a rare Talent and carried the nickname of the Saint. She was sure to hold a respectable position—or at least a well-paid one—in the future. Being her right hand would mean a life of respect and safety. If I were anyone else, I’d have jumped at the chance.

But I wasn’t anyone else.

When I thought of abandoning the prospect of becoming my—Carine’s—bodyguard… the faces of my parents came to mind. Mother and Father… Despite their differences, I had begun to sense a level of trust put into me. Trust that I would protect their daughter. Trust that I would stand alongside her. Trust that I would be there for her.

If I abandoned that path now… after all they had done for me… I wondered if I would be able to live with myself?

On top of that, the position of being my own bodyguard was ideal personally. In a world where Talents could cause deceit, the only person I could truly trust was myself.

My decision to be my own bodyguard was unshakeable. That much I know.

So, I gently, but firmly, pulled my hand back. Her hands tightened for a moment, hesitant to let it go… before my hand finally slipped free.

“I’m sorry… but I can’t do that, Clara…” I said, my voice low but steady.

The tension in the air, once thick like stone, was now brittle as glass. Clara’s hand stayed suspended in the air for a second before it slowly dropped to her side. Her face, once a mask of serene gentleness, now narrowed in frustration.

"Why?" she asked. “Why? After everything I just said? After she hurt you that badly? You’d rather stay a tool than stand by my side?”

Her eyes shot forward, locking onto mine. “Give me a reason, Feyt. Why would you stay with someone like that? What is it that draws you to her?” she asked, her voice nearly cracking.

I looked away for a moment, eyeing the afternoon sky outside. I pondered for a moment on how best to explain to her my thoughts. But, in the end, I concluded one thing.

"I can't explain it," I admitted, meeting her gaze again. "I can assure you, I... didn't come under Lord Sareid's wings just for the pay. There are things that I must do, and want to achieve… and I could only do so by Carine’s side.”

Clara opened her mouth, only to close it again into a tight lip.

“I know how it looks from the outside,” I continued. “And I know what everyone says about us."

Clara didn’t respond. Her eyes stayed locked onto mine.

I let out a slow breath.

“But think about it for a second,” I said, my voice steadier now. “If Carine really did something like that to me… why would I be running after you like this?”

Her brows furrowed.

I pressed on before she could interrupt.

“Why would I be this desperate to stop you?” I asked. “If I were actually being abused, wouldn’t there be more bruises on me than this? And wouldn’t reporting it help me more than anyone?”

The words hung between us.

Clara’s grip on her own hands, which had long since tensed at her side, loosened slightly.

“…Then why didn’t you say anything earlier?” she asked quietly. “Why let it get this far?”

“Because, really, it shouldn’t have gotten this far,” I admitted. “To be honest, I’ve been trying really hard to tell people the truth. As you can see for yourself, it hasn’t been working.”

Her gaze dropped for a moment, as if replaying everything in her head.

“The bruise…” she muttered. “It really was from a ball?”

“Yes,” I said immediately. “Straight to the face. You can ask the details from Ricent himself.”

A brief silence followed.

“If I were actually being hurt, or in danger, I’d be the first person running to you for help, trust me.”

Clara studied my face carefully.

“So all those rumors…” she said slowly. “You and Carine…”

Her voice trailed off, but the question was clear.

I met her gaze without hesitation.

“There’s nothing like that going on,” I said plainly.

There was no abuse. No disciplining. Nada.

Just some good ol’ ball to the face in some comedic timing.

A faint, almost imperceptible flicker of relief crossed her features before she quickly masked it, looking back up at my forehead. She stepped back, finally giving me some personal space.

“…I see,” she murmured.

The air between us shifted. Not completely at ease, but it was no longer suffocating.

She closed her eyes for a moment and exhaled, as if releasing everything she had been holding onto since she met me and my bruise. When she opened them again, the sharp edge in her gaze had dulled. In fact, it had warmed.

“A ball, huh?” she repeated, her voice returning to its normal tone. “I almost made a big deal over a ball… How embarrassing.”

“In my defense, it was a very fast ball.”

Clara chuckled, a faint warm smile adorning her face once more. “Alright… I’ll stand down. I won’t report this to the directors.”

I gave her a soft bow. “Thank you, I really appreciate it!”

“But, for the record. You'd better run to me first thing if you ever get hurt, you hear?”

It took me a moment before I responded. “O-Of course! Who else would I run to?” I chuckled.

Her smile bloomed into a full, gentle smile. “I’ll be heading back to my office now. Please, do take care of yourself.”

“I will!”

She turned to face the stairs again. But before she moved, her head turned back to face me. “And also, please know that my offer still stands,” she said before giving me a wink.

With that, she started up the stairs again, probably heading back to her office now.

I stood there for a moment, watching as her figure disappeared past the corner.

Only when her footsteps stopped echoing did I finally let out the breath I’d been holding.

“Phew…That went better than expected,” I muttered.

Still… I had a feeling this wouldn’t be the end of it.

Sure, I managed to stop Clara from escalating this to the directors. But who’s to say others wouldn’t wag their tongues around until it reached that point anyway?

And even if no one was brave enough to report this to the directors, just having them know of the rumor was troublesome enough. I had never seen Attila and Lionne both look so gloomy and quiet towards me. Feyt’s classmates had been pitying me all day long, and I didn’t know how much longer I could take it.

Not to mention, the encounter with Ravilenna this morning… If someone like her saw my “abuse” as commendable, I shuddered to think of what that meant to my reputation.

Let’s just hope that Ravilenna was the last of it.