Chapter 7

The feast was truly magnificent but Clara barely ate anything, nervous about the man sitting next to her. Her husband. It still sounded strange, and despite so many people congratulating them on getting married, Clara still found it hard to believe it actually happened. The royal couple was the first to approach them. The king kissed the back of Clara's hand and the queen hugged her, a warm smile on her beautiful face.

Sophia Redwood didn't look happy, Clara doubted such an expression ever appeared on her mother's face. She looked satisfied, probably glad her unruly daughter was finally someone else's problem. "Remember," she hissed into Clara's eyes while hugging her, "time for your stupid rebellions in over. If you want to live a content life, you obey this man's every command and fulfill his every wish."

Clara squirmed out of the hug, struggling to keep her composure, fighting against the tears filling her eyes. At least her mother was honest, brutally so, as usual. Clara knew what Sophia was referring to, the lecture about what happens during the wedding night didn't exactly help to calm the girl's nerves. Quite the opposite actually, it was one of the reasons she was getting increasingly scared as the day progressed. Sophia managed to paint such a disgusting, frightening, and painful picture that Clara dreaded the moment she would be left alone with her new husband. Sure, he seemed kind and gentle enough now but, according to her mother, every man quickly turned into a lustful beast when it came to the matters of sharing a bed with a woman.

"You aren't hungry?" Huxley's voice was soft and he held a small plate with a piece of an apple pie in front of her.

No, food was the last thing on Clara's tortured mind. "Not really. But thank you, my lord."

"Well, guess I'll have one more then because this is absolutely delicious," he grinned, skillfully separating a chunk of the pie with a dessert fork. His expression turned almost blissful as he put it into his mouth and Clara had to chuckle seeing him so happy over such a simple thing. "You sure you don't want to try it?" He held the fork in front of her mouth this time and Clara opened it hesitantly, not wanting to offend him. "And please, call me Oscar," he added while she chewed. "I don't really believe in such formalities between a husband and wife. So, is it good?"

Clara blinked before realizing he was talking about the pie, still surprised by his request. As a child, she barely even knew her father's first name since Sophia strictly addressed him as "lord Redwood" on those rare occasions they talked to each other. Was that not normal?

The pie was great but it was just an apple pie, nothing magically exquisite as he made it sound. Still, Clara had to be polite. "It's delicious. Oscar," she added after considering the risks of such action, trying out his name on her tongue. She liked the idea, it made it look like there was some actual relationship between them.

"I know, I know, it's just a pie, nothing special. But I like apples and they rarely serve them on these formal occasions. Apparently, apples are not fancy enough for a wedding in the royal palace." Clara suppressed a giggle and without protests, she accepted another bite he offered her. He was right though, she realized upon thinking about it, she didn't recall an apple in the luxurious fruit bowls that were placed on the tables.

So lord Huxley liked apples. Look at that. Now she knew one personal thing about her husband. It was so ironic she almost started laughing but she fought against it. It wouldn't be a good kind of laugh. No, there was a hysteria looming in the back of her mind and Clara knew the bursts of laughter would quickly turn into desperate sobs. And even someone as inexperienced with men as her knew that they hated crying girls.

As she watched him prepare another bite for her, she shyly said, "I prefer grapes." Her eyes were fixed on the plate in front of them, she was afraid to look up at him, knowing he probably didn't care about what she liked.

"That is good to know," Oscar replied cheerfully and reached for the nearest fruit bowl to pluck a few grapes out, holding two in front of Clara. "Red or white?"

He did care. That was surprising. "I… it doesn't really matter, as long as they are sweet and crunchy." What an absurd conversation to have at their own wedding. But what else were they supposed to talk about?

"Interesting." Instead of offering the fruit to Clara as she expected, he put both grapes into his mouth, first the white, then the red, rolling them over his tongue with a pensive expression, almost as if he was tasting a priceless wine. After that he reached into the bowl again, taking a whole bunch of grapes this time. "I think you will like the white better then," he smiled, holding a couple of berries on his palm in front of her. Clara took them, grateful he didn't try to put them directly into her mouth because, for some reason, that seemed incredibly intimate in her mind. And not in a good way.

They were silent for a while and it was not as odd and uncomfortable as one would expect. Clara watched him as his eyes scanned the room, sliding over countless wedding guests, stopping at each of them for a moment before moving to the next. He didn't seem to be looking for someone specific, just observing. "I was actually worried there wouldn't be any pie left for me," he said with a smirk, "since that pink lady over there seems to be making sure there aren't any leftovers."

Clara followed his gaze to the woman he mentioned and chuckled quietly, quickly looking away so the lady wouldn't notice them staring at her. "Yes, that's Lady Umber. She never misses an occasion like this to satisfy her ample appetite." Damn, now she looked like a gossip girl.

"The wife of Lord Leopold Umber, the one with the vineyards? Is that the man beside her?"

"No, that's Master Serkan, the royal armorer. Lord Umber is standing over there by that roasted boar." As it turned out, Oscar Huxley was quite interested in palace gossip. He seemed to know a lot of names, especially considering he was a foreigner who just arrived in the city, and pieces of basic information about people, but he didn't know which name belonged to which face. Clara was happy to help him with that because it meant they could have a normal, "safe" conversation.

The musicians had been preparing in the corner for some time before one of them nodded at the wedding organizer. Upon his notice, Oscar turned to Clara and extended one hand in front of her. "Would you do me the honor of having a dance with me, my lady?" There was a hint of nervosity in his tone as if he expected her to say no. Which she couldn't, even if she wanted to. And, much to her own surprise, she wanted to say yes. Not because it was expected but because she was curious about how good of a dancer her new husband was.

Clara loved dancing but knew many men didn't exactly have a talent for it, her father being one of them. Great with a sword but hopeless on the dance floor. Her mother refused to dance with him altogether, claiming he'd trample her feet. He never stepped on Clara's foot (although there were times when he got quite close) but other than that she had to agree with her mother. He was truly hopeless, unable to keep to the rhythm or remember the correct steps. That left Clara at the mercy of the flocks of young lords that always gathered around unmarried ladies. Some were good, most weren't. A few took dancing only as an opportunity to touch women where they weren't supposed to. Overall, it wasn't a very satisfying experience.

"The honor is mine. And you can call me Clara if you want." With a sting of shame, she realized she probably should have offered it to him right after he did it but, hopefully, it wasn't too late to fix that.

As she placed her hand into his, the smile on his face got brighter. "It would be a pleasure, Clara." The way he played with her name on his tongue made her shiver, partly in excitement, partly in fear. She decided to ignore the fear for now, focusing on the excitement. One moment at a time.

And some moment this was. Clara was nervous when he placed his hand on her waist and pulled her closer, knowing everyone in the room was watching them now. But after the first few tones, her worries were forgotten. She had noticed before how gracefully Oscar moved and hoped it would mean he would prove to be at least a decent dancer. Her expectations were surpassed by so much she could hardly believe her luck. Her husband was an exquisite dancer and as he led her in circles around the dance floor, she felt like they were floating, fairly certain there was a dreamy smile on her face. Oscar looked happy as well but also very focused, especially during the second dance when they were joined on the floor by the king and queen. Neither of them wanted to bump into the royal couple by accident.

They took a short break after that, standing at the side and watching the guests dance, eat, drink, and gossip. Oscar handed her a glass of wine with a splash of water, something the women usually drank on these occasions to quench the thirst without getting drunk. "I hope I didn't disappoint," he said quietly, looking at the king and queen who kept dancing, smiling happily at each other. Was that what changed king Hayden? Falling in love with the Levantian princess?

"Disappoint?" Clara shook her head. "You are an amazing dancer, lord Hu-I mean, Oscar."

"That's very kind of you, Clara, but it's you who was amazing. I'm a bit rusty, I'm afraid. We haven't had many balls in Levanta lately." Clara swallowed roughly, suddenly unsure what to say. They haven't had any balls because they were at war against Orellia. Then their king died by Hayden's hand and now there was no kingdom of Levanta anymore, his country was absorbed into Clara's. How could he not be mad about that? She opened her mouth to apologize but he spoke first. "I should probably go ask your mother for a dance." He didn't sound very happy about it and Clara could hardly blame him.

She stayed and watched as they danced, noticing her mother didn't shut her mouth for one second. Oscar smiled and nodded, occasionally saying a few words when she made a short pause to breathe. They both kept glancing in her direction, the topic of their conversation was obvious. Clara frowned when something Oscar said made Sophia giggle like a little girl and she turned away, not wanting to seem she was jealous or something. Because she wasn't. Why didn't her stupid mother marry him herself if she liked him so much?

"Will you dance with me as well or would you rather rest for a moment?" A known voice sounded behind her.

Clara quickly turned and bowed her head in respect. "It would be an honor, Your Majesty."

"Ha, keep thinking that when I step on your toe," Hayden smirked and offered her his arm. Despite his words, he was a surprisingly good dancer, not as graceful as Oscar but still better than most men Clara had ever danced with. When the song ended, he looked behind Clara's shoulder, his eyes narrowed, and he nodded firmly. "It seems that your husband has stolen my wife so I'm afraid you are stuck with me." He certainly didn't sound happy about it but it seemed it wasn't because of Clara. No, as the king watched Oscar and the queen, Clara felt his tension. He was jealous.

Your future husband is a very good friend of our new queen, that's what Sebastian's kidnapper said. Was there something more between them? Is that why Hayden hated him? And why the hell did it make Clara feel uneasy as well? She barely even knew the man, it wasn't like he belonged to her. Quite the opposite, actually.

The smile on the king's face was a bit forced when the song ended and he led Clara to the other end of the dance floor, forcing her to take quick steps to match his long strides. "Lord Huxley," he growled, "I hope you enjoyed the dance with my wife." The way he stressed out the word "my" left no doubts about why he was angry.

"I have." Oscar smiled, ignoring the king's mood. He stepped away from the queen and extended his hand towards Clara. "But I do believe it's time we returned to our own wives."

"You bet it is."

"Gentlemen!" The queen interrupted the starting argument, rolling her eyes. "Be nice."

Clara felt Hayden's tension ease as if the words were a magical incantation. He bowed his head towards the girl and let go of her, heading straight to the queen and pulling her into a tight hug. Clara took Oscar's hand and he pulled her closer but made no attempt to hug or kiss her, for which she was both grateful and disappointed at the same time. "What would you want to do?" he smiled, his thumb stroking the back of her hand.

It was evening already. One moment at a time. But this moment was ending and the next one… She didn't want to think about it just yet. "Could we dance more?" she asked sheepishly, hoping he wasn't too tired.

"As my lady commands," he grinned happily.

Clara sighed in relief. The next moment could wait a bit longer.