Chapter 140: A Claw?
He waited for everyone to leave the room before turning to her.
She remained by his side as if she were afraid he’d say something harsh if she dared to move or breathe too loudly.
"You’re coming to the Town with me."
She blinked.
"I have something to tell you."
She stepped back, putting distance between them.
Something black amongst her fingers caught his eye.
"What’s that?"
She coloured instantly, tucking her hand further behind her.
Yeren narrowed his eyes at her. Then, quicker than both their shadows, his hand shot out and caught hers.
The sound of ripping fabric tire through the silence as the sleeve of her dress slipped down the length of her arm.
But none of them seemed to care about the damaged clothing.
His gaze was fixed on the black claw on her hand.
"You have a... claw?"
She shook her head sheepishly, hoping to deny an already glaring truth.
"What is it, then? A costume?"
Claire coloured almost immediately.
His grip on her hand was firm - so firm that goosebumps began crawling up her arms.
And he noticed, but didn’t let go.
"When did this happen?"
Claire gulped. "I don’t know."
He glanced down at it again.
"Do you even know what this is?"
She averted her gaze.
He didn’t expect her to tell him about her private affairs, but he couldn’t help feeling a sense of hurt at the observation that he knew very little about her. Family names and positions in society were just about the only things he was certain about her.
And that she loved green.
And rose gardens.
And lemon cakes.
And her little sister.
Nothing else.
"This is a claw, Miss Stenly." He whispered gently, as if explaining something of importance to a little child.
She glanced up, a fleeting look before she returned her gaze to the floor.
"Does it hurt?"
She tried pulling her hand away again, but his grip tightened.
"Why is any of this your concern?" Her voice was sharp, her eyes finally locking with his, hard as stone.
His grip on her arm loosened immediately and her hand fell limply to her side.
He held her gaze for a brief second before turning away.
"Gather your things, we head to the Town Square by noon."
"I am not-"
"It is not up for discussion, Miss Stenly. It’s about time you realize who’s King and who is the subject." His voice was cold, too cold for his liking.
Yeren knew he was striking back, but he couldn’t help that it felt well-deserved.
"Very well. As you say, Your Grace."
Noon saw him standing by the side of the carriage.
Andon had chosen to ride a horse ahead of their party - mostly because he suspected that Redmare and his cohorts might do something funny. Five men had accompanied him, leaving Yeren alone with Claire.
She hadn’t come down yet... and he wasn’t surprised.
"Shall I fetch your Cupbearer?" His attendant asked beside him, his gaze cast down.
Yeren thought for a second.
"No. I’ll fetch her myself."
He turned on his heel and started walking towards her tower.
Her tower? Why did he keep saying that?
He normally never set foot in that part of the castle, but since she came, it’s almost as if his subconscious has been looking for excuses to visit it more often.
He shook his head as he took the stairs two at a time.
When he got to her door, he knocked briskly.
"Leave me be." She called out gently.
Yeren slowly turned the knob and entered the room.
The drapes were drawn, and the room was in perfect order.
Except her.
She was not packing. It didn’t even look like she had made a single attempt to do so.
Instead, she was lying face down on the bed with her arms spread apart - like a warrior who’d lost everything but his life.
He cleared his throat. Claire didn’t stir.
"Foolish... idiotic... knave." He could hear her muttering curses into the bed.
"All of that for me?"
She froze, then slowly lifted her head.
"Yer... Your Grace?" She slid off the bed and stood to her feet. "What are you doing here?" She asked, colour staining her heated cheeks.
Her hair looked like a battle field - like she’d run her hands through them more times that either of them could count.
And she was still wearing the same dress. The one with the bodice that begged to be torn open, ripped in half and tossed aside without remorse.
"I see you plan on disobeying my orders."
She folded her arms across her chest, squaring her shoulders.
"No..." Her gaze met his, unsteady at first. "Yes. I don’t plan on coming."
He let his gaze take over her slowly, enjoying the way her colour heightened with awareness. Then her gaze flicked to the door, then to his lips.
Yeren almost smiled at that moment.
She still wanted him - no matter how much she claimed otherwise.
"I’ll humour you by asking why?"
Her chin jutted out even more. "Because we both know that the last trip we embarked on put us in this very situation."
He stepped forward, closing half the distance between them.
Claire’s throat worked, but she didn’t attempt to move away.
"What ’situation’, if I may ask?"
Her face softened as she met his unwavering gaze.
"This." She gestured with her hands at nothing in particular.
He tilted his head, raising an eyebrow at her vague response.
She threw her hands up in the air in exasperation. "This. Making love to me when you’re clearly in love with someone else, marrying Lady Plumette and forcing me to pretend that you didn’t take everything from me."
He blinked.
Claire wiped her face with her hands and turned her back to him.
"In love with someone else?" He repeated, his voice incredulous.
Silence fell over them for a while before he closed the distance between them.
Her hands fell to her sides as she watched him as one would watch a ill-behaved horse.
Then out of nowhere, he leaned down and picked her up, slinging her over his shoulder like she weighed nothing.
Yeren arranged her dress around her legs the best her could before heading to the door.
"We have enough time to continue this conversation, Miss Stenly."
She stiffened in his arms.
He smirked before adding, "Alone."