I Have A Damn Family Again - Chapter 99

Chapter 99: The Crumpled Report Card (4)

Unable to focus on her work, Claire tossed her pen aside and decided to take a walk, her frustration simmering beneath the surface. 

She hadn't noticed the manor staff's anxious glances and carefully choreographed movements as they attempted to avoid her path. 

The usual cheerful greetings from the new maids were conspicuously absent. Her face, a mask of annoyance, her eyes sharp and narrowed, her every step radiating displeasure, sent a clear message: avoid the Second Lady at all costs.

Carsein's cold dismissal, "Think whatever you like," echoed in her mind, a persistent hum that fueled her frustration. Her brow furrowed, her footsteps faltering as anger surged within her.

 It should have been a simple conversation, a reprimand for worrying his family, but his dismissive response, his implication that her concern was unwarranted, had ignited a wave of anger she now regretted.

She knew his annoyance had been understandable. 

It was her own words, her sharp tone, that had sparked his reaction. 

But what followed was what truly bothered her. If he had argued, had he lashed out, had he expressed his frustration in his typical Carsein fashion, she would have apologized, attempted to soothe his ruffled feathers. 

But that cold indifference, that utter lack of concern implied by those words, “Think whatever you like,” had left her with a lingering sense of unease, a knot of confusion that refused to unravel.

Driven by this unsettling feeling, she wandered aimlessly through the manor, her mind searching for answers. "Damn it, what is this feeling?" Claire, a woman who meticulously curated her appearance, who believed in the transformative power of fashion, found herself absentmindedly running a hand through her carefully styled hair, a rare display of agitation.

Her meticulously crafted appearance mattered less than the turmoil within her. She thought, she analyzed, she dissected every word and gesture, but Carsein's true intentions, his reason for enduring their reprimand without protest, remained a mystery.

Lost in her contemplation, she reached the conservatory, a familiar haven.

 As she approached, she heard her mother's voice, a soft murmur, filtering through the glass panels. Her mother, tending to her plants, a daily ritual, a source of solace. 

There was nothing unusual about hearing her voice here, in this sanctuary she’d created.

But then she realized her mother was speaking to Carsein. "I understand you were… upset, Carsein. But your actions… they were unacceptable, and I must address them.” Claire, her curiosity piqued, circled around the conservatory, her footsteps silent, and began to eavesdrop.

The conversation, a mother’s gentle scolding, revolved around Carsein’s allowance, his recent expenditures. So he'd been spending his allowance. She’d noticed his absence, his extended stay beyond the manor walls, and now, the reason was clear.

As expected, her mother, her voice a mix of disappointment and concern, addressed his excessive spending habits. Claire, having endured similar lectures in her youth, understood, a flicker of empathy softening her anger. But throughout their entire conversation, Carsein remained silent, his response, his explanation, his justification… unheard.

Claire couldn't shake the feeling that something was off. 'Is he planning to… reveal it later?'

She ran a successful boutique, a venture that brought her into contact with a diverse network of people, their whispers a constant source of information. And so, she knew. She knew where Carsein's money had gone.

Lusmire. That isolated territory, infamous for its troubles, shunned by surrounding noble houses, had suddenly found a protector.

Carsein.

Surely, their mother, upon learning the truth, wouldn’t be angry. He'd used his allowance for a noble purpose, a selfless act. It was a commendable gesture that reflected well on House Bagrand. She’d likely praise him, commend him for his compassion.

“I understand, Mother.”

Carsein's voice, a quiet murmur, was a stark contrast to his usual defiant tone.

“Did my words upset you, Carsein?”
“Not at all, Mother. You were absolutely right.”
“…I see.”

Her mother, her voice softer, sensing his subdued response, tried again. But Claire felt a chill run down her spine. His tone, devoid of any emotion, was too calm, too accepting. ‘Don’t tell me he’s going to… let it go, just like that?’ Surely not. He wouldn’t simply accept their judgment without offering an explanation.

She shook her head, dismissing her fears as irrational. But throughout their conversation, Carsein never mentioned Lusmire, never revealed the true nature of his expenditures. Even when the conversation shifted, from a childhood memory, from buried report cards, to the upcoming conference, his silence remained unbroken.

Claire was flabbergasted.

As Carsein exited the conservatory, his expression unchanged, Claire couldn’t contain herself any longer. She stepped forward, grasping his arm, preventing his escape.

“Carsein, why did you do that?”
“What is it this time, Claire?”
“You idiot! Why didn’t you just tell Mother the truth?!”

Frustration colored her voice as she voiced the words she'd longed to hear from him.

“You used your allowance to buy that Lusmire territory! If you’d just told her, she wouldn’t have scolded you! You knew that, didn’t you?!”

He could have defended himself, offered a valid explanation, justified his spending. Lusmire’s struggles were well-known, and even a brief mention would have earned their mother’s understanding. He didn’t have to accept their judgment, their condemnation.

She wished he'd speak up, offer an explanation, allow her to relay the truth to their mother.

But he simply stared at her, that familiar, distant look in his eyes, his words a cold dismissal.

“Why do you even care?”

Once again, he refused to defend himself.

“What…?” Claire was dumbfounded.
“I spent a fortune on a worthless territory. It was… excessive, to say the least. And as you’ve heard, MY academic performance was… less than stellar. i'M unqualified a failure. Especially when it comes to managing a territory, as… Shatrain… so clearly demonstrated.”
“Carsein.”
“I deserved to be scolded. That’s how I'm perceived, after all. It’s… normal.”

His words, a self-deprecating assessment of his own worth, were unnerving.

Claire, sighing, her frustration tinged with a strange sadness, asked, “Why are you doing this, Carsein? Are you still upset about what I said… back then, in the conservatory?”
“Not really, but… you were right. About me being a… disappointment. A stain on House Bagrand.”
“Huh…!”

His words infuriated her. She couldn’t stand this self-sabotage.

“The conservatory incident, digging a hole in Mother’s garden… Well, yes, you deserved to be scolded. It was her sanctuary. But this time… you did nothing wrong! Why are you acting like a criminal?”

This time was different. His actions, his choices, were justifiable, his intentions noble.

“You’re not a bad person, Carsein! Why are you calling yourself… unqualified? If you’d simply explained yourself, you would have been praised, not scolded! Excessive spending? That money, that insignificant sum… it wouldn't have even made a dent in the family's accounts! Why are you accepting the judgment, accepting being labelled as… irresponsible?”

Her frustration reached its peak as she finally voiced her true concern.

“And what was that about transferring Shatrain's reimbursement from my funds to your allowance? You could have asked for help! Arina and I could have easily explained the situation and gotten your rights back! Why are you making things so difficult? Why are you so determined to do everything the hard way?"

His rejection of their offer of assistance, his refusal to let them help him with the conference or Shatrain…

“I don’t understand, Carsein! Why are you doing this to yourself?!”

Her anger, her frustration, her genuine concern, erupted in a torrent of words.

Finally, her outburst over, her breathing ragged, Claire fell silent. Carsein, throughout her tirade, had remained quiet, his gaze fixed on her, his expression unreadable.

And then, as her anger subsided, he spoke, his voice a soft murmur.

“Isn’t it normal… for me to handle this myself?”
“What…?”
“The incompetent commoner, the uneducated peasant, the troublemaker, the liar, the disgrace of House Bagrand. That’s me.”

He chuckled, a humorless sound, his words a self-deprecating assessment of his own worth.

“And you expect me to rely on House Bagrand? To taint their pristine reputation with my… inadequacies? Of course, I have to handle this myself.”

Claire stared at him, stunned, as he pushed her hands away.

‘How can he possibly believe that?’

He’d endured that lecture, that unfair judgment, because of a misunderstanding? He was rejecting their help when they could have easily resolved this situation? He was choosing the harder path, refusing to accept their outstretched hands, clinging to this self-destructive independence?

“…Why, Carsein? Why are you lying?”
“I’m not lying, Claire. I’m serious.”

His words, delivered with chilling certainty, extinguished the last embers of doubt. And that, more than anything, angered her.

“Just ask for help, Carsein! Is it that hard? Is your pride that fragile?”
“...”
“Stop being so stubborn! Stop trying to prove yourself! Just… ask! It’ll make things easier, don’t you see?! Just… ask!”

Carsein walked past her, his silence a wall. His words, a whispered dismissal, were the only response she received.

“I don’t need your help.”

His words, like a gust of icy wind, seemed to extinguish the fire that had raged within her, leaving behind a strange, hollow calm.

-Ding!

[ Claire Bagrand ]
[ Affinity: 56% ]

***

[ 1. Accept Claire’s offer of assistance and resolve the misunderstanding with Isabella. ]
[ 2. Seek Claire’s help in arranging another meeting with Isabella, then confront Arina. ]
[ 3. Approach Isabella with Claire, and reveal the truth about Lusmire. ]
…
…

The system, recognizing Claire’s eavesdropping, triggered a new set of choices, an emergency intervention, a chance to alter the course of events.

But I’d already made my decision.

[ 5. Conclude the conversation with Claire, then proceed to Arina’s office, refusing assistance from both Claire and Isabella. ] ☑

I wouldn’t accept their help, not now, not ever.

Choosing those seemingly easier paths, allowing them to clean up my messes, wouldn't lead to true independence, to genuine growth.

Carsein had always been alone, ostracized, rejected. The “Crumpled Report Card” Memorial, a painful reminder of his unfulfilled desires, his yearning for acceptance.

And I, the observer, the one who’d walked a similar path, understood. My own family, their love conditional, their expectations a heavy burden, had taught me the futility of seeking validation.

I had no expectations of them, no desire to earn their approval, no need for their… pity.

Even if it meant facing those challenges alone, navigating this treacherous path without their support, my resolve wouldn’t waver.

I was accustomed to solitude, to self-reliance.

I turned away from Claire, her offer of help a temptation I refused to indulge.

▶ “Luxury is a Sin” Event in progress! ◀
▶ Engage in conversation with Arina! ◀

The system, its grip on Carsein’s fate unwavering, hadn't forgotten. My encounter with Isabella, a mere deviation, hadn’t cleared the original event. Arina, her role unchanged, awaited me, her judgment, her choices, a hurdle I had to overcome.

I needed to reach her office before this delay triggered another unforeseen event.

As I took a step, her voice, a furious bellow, stopped me.

“You stupid… stubborn… idiot! Fine! Do whatever you want! You… you…!”

Her usual insults, her crude language, a trademark of her fiery personality.

And yet… there was something different about her tone.

“Just… say something! Ask for help! Damn it, why are you so… so…”

She continued to mutter, her voice laced with a strange sadness. She ran a hand through her hair, dislodging a hairpin, ruining her usually meticulous appearance, then stormed off.

Never mind. Forget what I said. She was still the same old Claire.