Chapter 131: Encounter
A day earlier...
"Claire, you have to get out of bed. Lady Eliza has asked that you attend a fitting for your own dress." Rory said for the thousandth time that morning.
All the drapes had been drawn just to spite Claire, but Claire only covered her face and ignored her.
"This is not fair to me, Claire. You haven’t spoken to me since you returned yesterday evening."
Claire slowly uncovered her face. Her eyes were red, as though she hadn’t slept a single wink.
"I didn’t mean to ignore you... I just wanted to think... on my own."
Aurora climbed the bed.
"Please don’t tell me that all this is because of the King."
Claire just folded herself back into the ball she had initially been in and let out a loud sigh.
Aurora ran a hand through her hair.
"I wish I knew what to say to you at this point."
Claire didn’t move.
"Would you have lemon cakes with me?"
Claire barely shook her head.
"Would you visit the gardens with me?"
Claire slightly turned but still shook her head.
"Would you go to the river with me... it isn’t far?"
Claire turned completely to look at her.
"Why won’t you give up, Aurora?"
Rory finally grinned. "Because I can’t stand and watch you isolate yourself for a while day. It’s past noon and you’re still pretending to sleep."
Claire narrowed her eyes.
"What makes you think that I’m pretending to sleep?"
Rory raised a brow.
"You’re a light sleeper. I’ve never found you sleeping at this time of the day before."
Claire sat up, dragging her night dress over the exposed part of her chest.
"I’m awake." She grunted out - which only earned a wider grin from Aurora.
"Good. Now let’s have lemon cakes packed and head to river."
Claire fell back against the feather bed with a loud, tired sigh.
Aurora was already at her cloth chest, sorting through her gowns.
"I never knew you owned a red gown... I’ve never seen you wear it before."
Claire glanced at the dress everyone so briefly. She’d never liked anything red, red was poison, alluring and attention-seeking.
And, it didn’t match her eyes.
"I don’t wear it."
"Why?"
"Because I don’t like it."
Rory lifted the dress out of the chest and placed in against her own chest. It was a lot bigger than her.
"It’s very pretty, prettier than most of the dresses you love to wear."
Claire silently acknowledged the truth of her sister’s words. The dress was pretty... almost as pretty as the dark green dress she had worn to Aldrich’s dinner that evening.
And she still remembered how Yeren had looked at her in that dress before he asked her to change it - Like he wanted to rip it off.
Colour crept up her dull and creased cheeks.
"Put it back. Bring out the sapphire dress."
Rory dutifully did as she was told, bringing out the dress that Claire had asked for.
Claire slid off the bed, her creased night dress falling in waves down to her feet.
The dreams had kept her from closing her eyes all the night.
The green-eyed wolf hadn’t run from her this time, it let her touch it. And she couldn’t forget the feel of it’s fur, the soft purr it made, even though it was all a dream.
But that wasn’t the only thing that made her miserable and sleepless.
His wedding was the very next day. No matter what she did, he was going to marry Garelle.
Pressing her lips together, she slid into the dress and joined her sister on the journey to the kitchens.
She heard hearty laughter the moment she entered the hot and over crowded chamber.
Her stomach flipped downward. Aurora was still going inside, but she didn’t move.
She was certain without a doubt that it was Garelle.
A great part of her wanted to avoid the woman completely - she just didn’t want to seem bitter.
No matter how nice she was, they were rivals because of one man.
She swatted her forehead and moved to lean against a pillar in the hallway.
She had never acted this way because of a man before - what was wrong with her?
"Claire."
Her spine became straighter.
"Why don’t you come in? Your sister is helping us taste the pastry samples - why don’t you join us?"
Her sister?
That traitor.
Claire finally met her gaze and held it.
"Your ladyship, I will humbly decline."
Garelle didn’t seem to be listening, she pulled her by the arm. "Your sister was just telling us how much you love cakes... don’t decline in my account - I need someone with a sweet tooth to help me."
Claire nearly rolled her eyes. If Aurora wasn’t her sister, she would have skinned her alive and left her under the sun.
Eliza wasn’t there, but she was informed that she was choosing table linens in the grand ballroom.
Her traitorous sister leaned against the counter by the larger window, her mouth filled with cake.
"How is it?" Garelle asked her.
The servants gathered around with curious faces, eager to hear the judgement from their soon-to-be queen.
Rory nodded once, but it was enough to put a smile on Garelle’s face.
"Now your turn, Claire."
Claire blinked at the casual way Garelle had said her name... as if they were close acquaintances.
Or even friends.
She picked up a small piece of the cake and plopped it into her mouth.
It was good. Just good, nothing more.
"Do you like it?" Garelle asked.
Claire finally met her gaze.
"What does it matter if I like it or not?"
Garelle stepped closer.
"Well, since it’s you, I know that if you like it, the King will like it as well."
Claire blinked.
What in the world did she mean by that?
For a moment, both women held the other’s gaze without speaking.
Then Claire finally said, "I like it, but it could be much better."
The baker rushed forward and cleared the dishes away.
"Would you like to help me?" Garelle asked.
Rory avoided meeting her gaze then, because the traitor wanted her to say yes.
"My sister and I were heading somewhere. We only stopped here for some food."
Garelle reached out and held her hand.
Claire stiffened at the contact.
"I’m not your enemy."