Chapter 8

It was late evening and some of the guests were fairly drunk already. Clara couldn't dance anymore, her feet hurt too much, but she still couldn't force herself to say the word that would end that particular moment. Her husband probably guessed she was just stalling but he didn't push on her.

Standing by the open window, Clara was enjoying fresh night air while Oscar went to bring her water. A sweaty hand suddenly grabbed her arm and forced her to turn around, to stare right into the face of a very drunk lord Umber. "Well, well, well, what are you still doing here, young lady?" He was slurring and his breath smelled like liquor. "Shouldn't you be in bed, pleasuring your Levantian husband?" He spat out the last two words with contempt.

"No!" Clara breathed out, her good manners not allowing her to scream out loud. "Let me go!" She tried to squirm her arm out of his grip but he held her tight.

"No?" An evil smirk twisted his lips. "You are married now, girl, you better forget all about that word. Hmm, I believe we haven't had a proper bedding ceremony in the palace for decades! Hey!" he shouted at a group of men standing nearby. "Are any of you curious about what the bride of our Levantian friend is hiding beneath that beautiful dress?" Most of them frowned at Umber but several grinned and took a step closer to her.

Suddenly, Oscar was standing next to Clara, shoving Umber away, freeing her from his grip. "That is not happening." His voice lost some of its smoothness but he still sounded fairly calm given the situation. He put his arm around Clara's shoulders in a protective gesture and she felt eternally grateful for it.

"You don't give orders around here, you cowardly Levantian scum," Umber hissed, rubbing his elbow.

An ironically raised eyebrow was the only reaction to the insult. It seemed that lord Huxley certainly didn't get angry easily. "When it comes to my wife, then yes, I do."

"And when it comes to my palace and my fucking country, then I give orders around here." King Hayden, on the other hand, didn't need much to blow up. He appeared behind suddenly pale Umber and snarled at him. "And in case you didn't notice, you old fat asshole, the lady said no. You better start paying attention to that word unless you want to be screaming it yourself in the dungeons below the palace."

Lord Umber brokenly stammered a few unintelligible words and squealed in horror when Hayden grabbed the front of his shirt. "Get the fuck out of here before I really get angry." His words were so cold even Clara shivered but when he turned to her and Oscar, he seemed almost normal. "You two should go unless you want your wedding to be remembered as a bloody one. The drunker these idiots get, the worse it will be."

"Yes, I think we should. Your Majesty." Oscar bowed his head a bit deeper than before, a hint of respect sounding in his words. He led Clara out of the hall into an empty corridor before letting go of her shoulders and giving her a worried look. "Are you alright?"

Was she? Clara honestly had no idea. The shock from Umber's attack was fading away but what replaced it was even worse. The day was over. All there was left was the wedding night. "I'm fine," she managed to mumble, leaning down to take off her shoes. The ornate tiled floor was cold but she couldn't stand those heels any longer.

"I'm sorry." Oscar's voice was quiet and he didn't look her in the eyes. "It's my fault, he only attacked you because of who I am. I mean, I'm used to being the unpopular one but I never thought how that would affect you."

Clara shook her head. "That's not true. Umber is like that around women, all the girls know to avoid him when he's drunk. Don't worry about him."

He didn't seem convinced but didn't protest either, just took the shoes out of her hand and carried them for her. Their new chambers weren't far and they walked there in silence, each lost in their thoughts. Clara desperately tried to control her breathing, willing to stop her heart from pounding so hard it threatened to jump out of her chest. Fear that loomed around her all day started to circle closer and her feet felt heavier, reluctant to carry her.

The door closing behind them as they entered the bedroom sounded like a loud clank of a prison gate. It was dark and as Oscar lit a few candles, Clara could see the big bed right in front of her. Tall ornate columns held dark, silky drapes hanging around the sides. The sheets were plain white and some romantic soul put red rose petals over them, which reminded Clara of drops of blood.

She couldn't move anymore, just stared at that monstrous thing, every tiny bit of her willpower focused on keeping the tears at bay. One moment at a time. Except she had no idea how to get through this moment.

Just keep your mouth shut. Do whatever he tells you to do. No hesitation. No debates. And, most importantly, no crying. Her mother's advice ran through her head. It's not pleasant but it's a price we have to pay to have a good life, Sophia said. Don't anger him or he will make it more painful on purpose. No, angering her husband was the last thing Clara wanted.

Just tonight, she only had to get through this night. Then it won't matter. Then she will be a murderer, the king will be dead, the country will delve into utter chaos. What the hell was she doing? How did her life turn into such a disaster in just a few weeks? No crying. That started to seem like an impossible thing.

The room was dim-lit now and Clara felt Oscar move behind her. Breathe, she had to remind herself. Slowly. His hand pulled on one of the pins holding the net over her hair. "May I?" he whispered hoarsely.

Clara couldn't respond even if she wanted to, her throat was constricted by suppressing the tears, but she did manage to nod. His fingers skillfully started to remove the pins, she could tell he was being really careful not to pull on her hair too much. Certainly gentler than her mother ever has been while doing the same thing. Finally, her hair was free to fall down over her shoulders and back, the long red curls running wildly in all directions.

"You are so beautiful." Oscar ran his fingers through the tresses. To be honest, Clara was surprised he liked her hair, she was never really happy with how unruly it was, impossible to put in any kind of shape. Certainly not as smooth and silky as queen Karina's hair. There were no other redheads in her family and Clara's father always claimed that she got her hair (and nature) from his grandmother, who was a Ruthian.

He brushed the hair aside from her neck and Clara had to bite her lip to stay quiet, her fingernails digging into the flesh of her palms as she was clenching fists. She knew what he was going to do and she didn't want it. Any of it. Of course she didn't want this absolute stranger to touch her, kiss her, do all those other disgusting and frightening things to her. But there was nothing she could do about it. Even if her body wasn't completely paralyzed by fear, there were no other options. She had nowhere to run. Nobody would answer her calls for help. He would easily overpower her if she tried to fight him. She belonged to him now and he could do whatever he wanted with her, even punish her for disobeying him, and no one would raise a voice in her defense.

Yes, she knew what he was going to do even before his lips touched the skin on her neck, and yet, she still flinched and whimpered quietly when it happened. A few treacherous tears escaped the prison of her tightly shut eyes and ran down her cheeks. She heard Oscar sigh deeply and step away, walking around to stand in front of her.

No! Clara desperately fought against the rising panic. Now she made him angry. Why did her stupid body refuse to listen to her? "I… I'm sorry," she sniffled, still determined to not cry. She kept her head down, looking at his dark leather boots. "I know my duties. I will do what you want, just please, don't be angry with me." More tears ran down her face, splattering on the ground.

"Gods, Clara, I…" His hand rose up and Clara slouched, certain he was going to hit her. Perhaps she deserved it. He has been so nice to her and she couldn't do this one thing right. She winced when his palm touched her cheek but he was gentle, his thumb wiping off her tears. "Clara, I am sorry," his voice sounded almost desperate. "I was an idiot to think that… I just forgot how incredibly young you are, how innocent. Look at me, please." Reluctantly, she raised her eyes to his, afraid of what she would see in them, surprised there was no trace of anger in his face. He looked sad, ashamed even, but not angry. His voice gained intensity. "I swear I will not touch you unless you ask me to."

Clara's eyebrows came together slightly as she was unsure what he meant by those words. Did he want to humiliate her by making her ask him to do all those things? To beg him for it? No, that couldn't be it. There was kindness and compassion in his expression, nothing malevolent.

Oscar shook his head. "I'm normally brighter than this, I should have realized you would be scared of me and hate me. Listen, I swear on my life, on my mother's life, that I will not hurt you. I will not do anything you don't want, not tonight, not tomorrow, not in a week, not in a month. Not ever. All I'm asking of you is one thing. Give me a chance to prove I'm not your enemy."

Did she really understand him well? No, she couldn't believe he would simply let her off the hook on their wedding night. But what else could he be after? "I don't hate you," she whispered. "But how can we not be enemies? We killed your king, took your country, king Hayden forced you to marry me to humiliate you. How could you not hate me?" Why was she saying that? Was she trying to convince him to hate her?

"Clara, if I wanted to hate anyone for that, it would be Hayden." He bent his head down to hers and, for a moment, Clara thought he was going to kiss her, but he just rested his forehead against hers. "You had nothing to do with any of that. And yes, while I didn't exactly choose to marry you, I don't regret it at all. You are a sweet and beautiful woman and I promise to do whatever I can to make you happy." His fingers gently touched her hand and he took a step back, giving her space. "You don't have to be afraid of me," he whispered with a smile so honest it pushed more tears into her eyes.

No, she couldn't screw it all up now by starting to cry. Her teeth grinded on the inside of her cheek until she felt a sharp pain and a copper taste spread in her mouth. Clara really wanted to believe him, and, when she thought about it, he was nothing but nice and gallant to her all day and has done nothing that would make her fear him. But the doubts her mother had planted into her mind were hard to overcome. "I… I don't…" she didn't know what to say. What did he want to hear?

"It's alright. You don't have to do or say anything. We can just talk or go to bed if you are tired." Oscar turned to trace her startled look, leaning down to swipe the petals of the sheet. "We won't do that until you are ready. Do you want to change into something more comfortable? I mean that dress looks amazing but I can't imagine how do you actually breathe in it." He chuckled, obviously trying to distract her, and Clara felt so absurdly grateful she couldn't even respond. "I promise I won't look."

***

Author's note:

Hello everyone, I hope you enjoyed the first chapters. Let me know what you think about Clara in the comments or on my F.acebook page @AuthorAnnaSvoboda

The daily updates start today, there will be one chapter a day until the book is finished. Or maybe more, if my other book projects progress fast enough. I'd love to hear your opinions on the new chapters and heroes. Stay tuned, it's going to be a wild ride! :)