Chapter 24
“You’re here again.”
At the familiar voice, Nerys lifted her head.
Cledwyn, seemingly returning from swordsmanship class, was dressed in tough leather pants and a matching shirt. The deep teal fabric revealed glimpses of his pale skin, and a fresh red scratch was visible across it.
“Who hurt you?”
Nerys asked without thinking. Cledwyn raised an eyebrow.
“Why? Are you worried?”
“Why would I be? If there’s someone in this school capable of injuring a senior like you, I should know about it.”
As far as Nerys knew, at this point in time, there was no one at the academy skilled enough to injure Cledwyn Maindulante.
At least, no one she had heard of in the life where she had become the crown princess.
Cledwyn gave a smile so cold it couldn’t possibly be considered friendly.
“It wasn’t someone from the school.”
Ah.
Nerys understood.
As she kept silent, Cledwyn tilted his head slightly. Leaning against a pillar, his face looked as if it had been sculpted onto the stone—so meticulously defined.
“Did that satisfy your curiosity?”
“Why? Do you want to satisfy my curiosity?”
Not a single sentence went unchallenged.
Considering her young age and lower status, her impudent retorts should have angered him. But instead, Cledwyn merely laughed.
After a moment, he studied Nerys’s face and answered,
“I want you to satisfy mine. If you need a price for it, I’ll pay.”
“What are you curious about?”
Nerys leaned back comfortably in what was undoubtedly Cledwyn’s chair, her posture almost leisurely. Seeing that, Cledwyn folded his arms.
“I don’t think you’ve forgotten.”
Of course not. But sometimes, the way an answer is spoken reveals more than the answer itself.
How irritating. He had no hesitation in wielding a blade against others, yet he refused to take even the smallest loss himself.
Internally complaining, Nerys raised her eyes.
“There is something I desperately want. But I can accomplish it without your help.”
“That’s a lie.”
Cledwyn dismissed her words immediately, without even pausing to consider.
Nerys lifted an eyebrow.
“What do you mean?”
“Your movements are unstable, Lady Truydd. You’re managing to hold on by sheer luck, but you’ve already faced several dangerous moments, and your ‘victims’ are openly hostile toward you. One misstep, and you’ll be sent plummeting off the edge.”
He wasn’t wrong.
At Angharad’s party, someone could have seen who put the spider in the box. In the laundry room, someone might have spotted the stolen ribbon. In the student council office, someone could have witnessed Nerys sneaking in.
She had been careful to avoid being seen, but it was sheer luck that she hadn’t been caught yet.
No, Cledwyn already knew. That meant she had, at least once, been caught.
But what other choice had she had?
Nerys’s gaze turned icy.
Cledwyn spoke in an unhurried tone, mimicking her earlier demeanor.
“I don’t think your goal is to torment two insignificant children. Someone as intelligent as you wouldn’t waste time on them. So what is it? Who are you really targeting? Baron Nine and Sir Berta don’t share a common enemy. The Berta father and daughter had never even met you before. What is it you’re so dissatisfied with?”
The answer came out before Nerys even thought about it.
“I’m dissatisfied with the me they ruined.”
The words spilled out carelessly, and she immediately regretted them.
She should have held her tongue.
There was too much pent-up resentment, and she let it slip.
Cledwyn’s smile twisted strangely.
“Not the other way around?”
“No, I misspoke. They never ruined me. I just don’t like them. They irritate me. So I’ll make them pay for getting on my nerves.”
Even considering the past, Angharad and Rhiannon had never truly ‘ruined’ Nerys.
At least, not intentionally.
They had probably just found it amusing.
They had probably just wanted reassurance.
Reassurance that they were not the lowest existence in this wretched school.
Cledwyn’s gray eyes turned cold.
His gaze was so clear it felt like one could see right through them, yet his emotions remained unreadable.
Perhaps there were only a handful of people in the world who could decipher his true feelings.
“Whatever it is you want, I won’t judge. But it doesn’t seem like your ‘price’ has been fully paid yet.”
“And how would you know that?”
“Because from the very first day you entered this school, someone else has been openly hostile toward you. And I know you’re aware of it.”
Why was Cledwyn, someone from a higher grade and a completely different social standing, so interested in her affairs?
Nerys couldn’t believe it.
Did the heir to a grand ducal house have nothing better to do?
“Why are you so interested in me?”
Cledwyn shrugged.
“I told you—I need talented people. You have many shortcomings, but all of them are fixable. I’ll pay a fair price. Sell me your skills.”
“Do you really think I’m still a valuable recruit after hearing my price?”
Nerys smirked.
For a brief moment, even the composed Cledwyn showed a flicker of surprise. His eyes narrowed.
“Speak. To negotiate, I need to know your worth.”
“Then I’ll tell you. There are people I want—people I want to see ruined.”
Cledwyn’s face returned to its usual unreadable, detached expression.
He continued staring at Nerys, unwavering.
“I want them to suffer from inexplicable torment. To be humiliated for every tiny flaw they didn’t even realize they had. I want them to endure every cruel act a group can inflict on a single person. I want them to have nowhere to escape.”
To have their last sanctuary tainted by betrayal.
To reach the point where they wished they had no mouth, no eyes, no ears—where they longed to disappear.
“Year after year, no matter how much effort they put in, nothing improves. Any fleeting hope they find should soon crumble to dust. I want them to be unable to believe that people can be so cruel for no reason, until in the end, they blame themselves for everything. I want them to be so broken that even when those who should love them unconditionally say, ‘You are precious,’ they cannot believe it. I want them to never be able to shake off those memories for the rest of their lives. I want the child to grow into an adult, the adult to grow into an old person, unable to respect themselves, becoming the easiest target for others’ anger. And I want the ones who tormented them to forget what they did almost immediately!”
Only when they suffer exactly as they inflicted on others should they finally resent the world.
I want their reflection in the glass to be so hideous they can no longer bear to look outside.
‘…Just like me. Exactly the same.’
Nerys’s words dripped with malice, a blatant violation of the divine doctrines worshiped by all in Bistor.
For a moment, Cledwyn was speechless.
On the surface, Nerys seemed to be navigating school life well. She didn’t have any close friends among her peers, but there were those who admired her from afar. Her reputation among the faculty was solid.
But what she had just said—this wasn’t the kind of thing someone says unless they had experienced prolonged, deliberate ostracization.
Where had she been bullied? And when?
Or had she simply observed someone else’s suffering and internalized it?
If so, who?
When Cledwyn didn’t immediately respond, Nerys suddenly lowered her gaze and let out a quiet laugh, the kind that belonged to someone who had endured sorrow for far too long.
Cledwyn’s eyes narrowed again.
“I know. That it’s wrong. I know that I’m a bad person for thinking this way,” she admitted. “No one deserves to be treated like that. But I truly want it.”
Because if she didn’t, she felt like she would shatter.
Nerys had no real dreams.
Most of the things she had once fantasized about as a child—she had already done them by the time she died as the crown princess.
Attending a grand ball and dancing. Tasting the delicious foods from books. Conversing with friends from foreign lands.
She had never experienced an everlasting friendship or a lifelong love, but she no longer longed for them. Because now, she knew they didn’t exist.
So all that remained was revenge.
On everyone who had brought ruin to her life.
Not just those who had made her childhood miserable—but even those who had destroyed far more.
What she intended to return to them could not even be spoken aloud in this moment.
She had to stay cautious.
Yet, as if he had read her very thoughts, Cledwyn suddenly asked in a low voice,
“Nellusion—does he count? You don’t seem to like him.”
“He’s included,” she admitted. “But dealing with Nellusion will take time. It’s not like I can turn the heir of a powerful ducal house into an outcast at school.”
She had to strip him of his armor first. Only then could the blade sink in.
Right now, Nerys lacked the ability to do that.
But what about after a long time had passed?
A Nerys who had studied his every weakness, who had come to understand his true nature—and who had gained enough power.
Cledwyn didn’t know it yet, but her final blade was aimed at the imperial family.
By then, she wouldn’t settle for something as trivial as schoolyard ostracization.
She would be the one to drive the knife in herself.
If it had been any other noble, Nerys wouldn’t have even hinted at such a thing, much less spoken of it outright. But she understood better than anyone that the Duke of Maindulante had no ties with the other noble houses.
Now then, how would he react to someone baring such monstrous desires before him?
Nerys straightened her posture and clasped her hands together, pressing down firmly.
It was a habit from her days as the crown princess, a precaution to avoid giving anyone an excuse to find fault in her.
The more nervous she felt, the more complex her thoughts became, the more she forced herself to maintain a straight back and a calm expression.
One’s demeanor influenced the impression they left on others.
Cledwyn lowered his head.
As the shadows concealed his expression, Nerys instinctively lifted her chin slightly. She didn’t want to be looked down upon—never, in any situation.
“Even so, seduction tactics would be far more of a loss for you than for him,” he remarked.
…Seduction?
Nerys blinked, her lips parting slightly.
What nonsense was he saying now?
“There’s no way Nellusion would ruin his life over a woman,” she scoffed. “And even if I did try, who would fall for someone like me? With ‘this’ face?”
At least right now, there was no one who would.
Later, once her true worth was revealed, things would change slightly—but even then, Nerys Truydd had never been someone who caught attention for her looks.
She had spoken those words purely as fact, but Cledwyn lifted his head slightly.
The sheer disbelief on his face made Nerys’s eyes widen.
Her face suddenly flushed red.
“Are you serious?”
Cledwyn’s voice was incredulous, and by the time he finished asking, the corners of his lips had even begun to twitch.
Nerys pursed her lips.
When it came to this topic, Cledwyn was the worst of them all.
If he ever truly looked into a mirror, he would probably conclude that no one else in the world even resembled a human being.
“There’s no need for courtesy. Let’s keep this a straightforward transaction,” she said firmly. “You’ve already seen it, so you know—I’m actively working toward my goal. And honestly, getting help would make things much easier. But if I get the sense that you’re judging my goal, or that you won’t assist me in the way I want, then this conversation ends here.
However, if you ensure that things unfold exactly as I wish—then I’ll do anything.”
“Anything?”
“Yes, within reasonable bounds. You’d be my employer, after all. If I get paid, I work.”
Cledwyn’s smirk remained fixed in place.
“Sounds like you intend to charge quite a high price.”
Nerys stiffened. ‘So he noticed, after all.’
“If you don’t like it, then forget it.”
“No, I agree,” he replied smoothly. “I already told you—I won’t judge. Whatever your goal is, I have the ability to make it happen. So why wouldn’t I take this opportunity?”
And finally, he grinned, flashing just the barest hint of his teeth.
“I promise you, Lady Truydd—I will spare no effort in making sure that every single one of your targets suffers exactly as you described.”
