That day, she fell into a coma after drinking the poison.
When she woke up, she was already locked in the isolation room, and only heard that Selene had successfully given birth to a daughter and that both mother and child were safe.
She dared not visit, nor dared to inquire.
If it hadn’t been for the announcement, "The Commander and Spouse Joyfully Welcome a Daughter" being pushed on all networks three days later, lighting up every public screen.
She wouldn’t even have known that the child was really born.
"She’s especially cute," Selene’s tone was calm, "Her eyes are like mine, her nose like his. When she sleeps, she purses her lips, and the first thing she does upon waking is look for milk."
As she spoke, she slowly stood up and picked up a soft baby blanket from the bedside table.
"Hold her."
This attitude was too strange.
Claire’s whole body stiffened, and a chill ran up her spine.
She stood there, stunned, with cold sweat seeping from her palms, not daring to accept the blanket.
She had heard back then that Selene and the Commander had successfully matched.
At that moment, the whole village of Beastmen was congratulating.
She stared at Selene’s wrist wrapped in red silk, jealousy choking her throat, making it hard to breathe.
What if she couldn’t have children?
Or...
One day, Selene kneels in front of her, begging her to help have a child?
After all, they are sisters, aren’t they?
Blood ties are always more reliable than outsiders, right?
Claire couldn’t help but compare herself to Selene.
Selene was still the same Selene, with fair skin and a slender waist.
And as for her?
Besides growing more robust, with thicker muscles.
Nothing had changed over the years.
Still looking like a "tomboy" disliked by males.
Females, with softer waists and more tender figures, appeal more to males.
Yet when she stood straight, she was taller than most males.
Those males who once turned away at a glance still muttered, "Too fierce," "Not like a female."
Thinking of these things, Claire couldn’t even lift her head, her nails digging deep into her palms.
"You... really don’t blame me at all?"
She stared into Selene’s eyes, trying to find a trace of hatred.
But she couldn’t see anything.
What if she really was serious?
What if she truly forgave her...
Wouldn’t that mean she wouldn’t have to be executed?
No need to be sent to the drug monitoring bureau for testing?
No need to die?
Selene nodded.
"Mm, I don’t blame you."
She truly didn’t feel anything special.
The hatred had dissipated the moment the child was born.
Living is the greatest victory.
"Claire, what are your plans for the future?"
She sat back down on the edge of the bed, her eyes falling on Claire.
"Would you like to stay here and lend me a hand?"
These words came too suddenly.
Claire was stunned for a moment, her pupils twitching violently.
She instinctively rubbed her arms, her face full of confusion and disbelief.
"What can I help you with?"
She’s just a lowly Beastman, officially registered as a "Class B Defective."
Besides being able to have children, she knows nothing else.
But even for childbearing.
Those males disliked her for being of impure blood and having a fierce temperament, preferring to be punished rather than signing a breeding agreement.
What else can she do?
Rely on her hands used for gathering herbs to cook for the Osborne family?
Or have her guard the door and scare away visitors?
Selene immediately saw through her wild and random thoughts.
But she didn’t explain much or rush to persuade her.
She wasn’t here to be a savior.
No one in this world can lift someone unwilling to stand.
If she doesn’t stand firm herself, relying on others is useless.
But in that fleeting thought, it felt as if something in her chest cracked.
The whole person suddenly felt lighter.
The world in front of her darkened and brightened intermittently.
In the interplay of light and shadow, she seemed to be placed in a hazy dawn.
She seemed to have... found another way to live.
She was no longer the same self who swallowed grievances.
This time, she could finally acknowledge her own existence.
Her hand pressed against her heart, it skipped a beat.
The heartbeat was no longer a tremble of fear, nor a stifled dullness.
It was alive.
Strange.
Clearly meant for Claire, why was she the one feeling overwhelmed?
She suddenly realized that to be needed could make a person so vulnerable yet so warm.
Seeing Selene’s off-looking complexion, Claire felt even more inferior.
She kept her head down, catching a glimpse of Selene’s slightly pale face from the corner of her eye.
She huddled her shoulders, her voice trembling.
"Selene... I really don’t know how to do anything, and I look ugly... If you don’t mind, I... I can do the dirtiest and hardest work, anything."
What stature does a lower tier female dare to speak of?
In this world of stringent hierarchy.
Stature is a luxury, a privilege of upper-tier females.
And they, born labeled as "useless," can only struggle for survival in the mire.
When males move things, or carry heavy loads, they have to go along.
No one can be exempted.
Even if she’s thin and weak, lacking strength she must grit her teeth and fight.
No work, no food.
No striving, she’ll be abandoned.
Dignity?
Long since crushed by life.
Selene laughed, "Who said you’re ugly? I’ve always said you’re beautiful."
"Your body is upright, your skin is glowing, don’t always listen to others’ nonsense."
She looked at Claire, eyes sincere, not a hint of perfunctory.
"Not every female has to be fair and slender like a bamboo stick to be considered beautiful."
"I think you’re just right as you are."
Claire’s toes curled painfully.
Clearly, she had a healthy and symmetrical figure, yet always seemed to fear being seen.
Even now, being praised, she still couldn’t relax.
Selene walked over, reaching out to hold her shoulder, gently nudging her upright, "Don’t slouch, hold yourself up."
"Your collarbones, so beautiful they make one want to draw them."
Claire looked down, not at her collarbones, but at her flat chest.
That had been the source of her long-held inferiority.
In a world where females are objectified, the size of one’s bust directly relates to fertility value.
She didn’t dare to look up, afraid of seeing pity in Selene’s eyes.
Collarbones... what use are they?
In her understanding, no matter how beautiful collarbones are, they can’t be exchanged for a meal.
Males want chests that can bear offspring, bodies that can nurture offspring.
These she had none.
Is she... still considered a female?
She started to question her existence’s meaning, questioning whether she was destined to fail from the start.
Alza to the side sneered, sulking inside, thinking the Female Master is truly crazy.
He secretly rolled his eyes, full of disdain.
Among us foxes, there’s never been a female so ugly.
In his tribe’s concept, beauty is a symbol of lineage, an outward expression of power and status.
Like Claire, such a female wouldn’t even make it to be a servant.
"Female Master, whatever you want to do, we can do it for you."
He spoke respectfully, but the tone was laced with insincerity.
Selene shot him a glance, her expression softening.
"Alza, go to Heath’s room and bring that bottle of perfume."
She clasped the bottle in her hand tightly, it was her premium perfume.
Its scent can attract people, can change fate.
In the past, she always thought of leveraging the Osborne family’s status to ascend in one step.
Thinking about it now, it was truly foolish.
Relying on others, you ultimately have to watch faces, depend on luck.
But relying on oneself, even if slower, the path widens progressively.
The road must be walked step by step, steadily.
She can no longer rush for success, no longer fantasize about soaring overnight.
With Caleb backing her, who would dare provoke her?
Though there’s no affection between them.
But his power is her most solid backing for the time being.
Selene never saw Caleb on the battlefield.