Stay True

Chapter 12

After the welcome feast, Clara stumbled into her room. She promptly yanked off her shoes and rubbed her sore, blistered feet. She had danced with mostly the prince for hours upon hours.

When the ache in her feet had been slightly subdued, Clara went to the screen and searched for the kettle so she could bathe. Eve was not back in Clara's chambers just yet. Eve was probably saying goodnight, or possibly cleaning up from the feast. Clara would have summoned her, but she had been self-sufficient for the first eighteen years of her life. Several months posing as a princess did not change the fact that she could provide for herself.

Finally locating the kettle, Clara searched for her hair potion. Upon finding that, she happened upon another small, albeit unlabeled bottle. She opened it and took a whiff to see if she could identify the contents. It stank. It was an unholy combination of rancid meat and dirt. Clara gagged and replaced the stopper.

What could the strange substance be? She ran over the possibilities in her mind. Poison...possible, but unlikely. A first attempt at potion-making...probable, but Clara had never heard anything about Melanie or her ilk taking a shine to the kind of work someone like Didacus could do for her. Clara had had to try potion making as part of her training, but that was one of the activities nobody ever explained the reasoning behind. Perhaps it was an ancient perfume, left by the room's occupant many eons before. Clara snorted quietly to herself. Yes, and there was such thing as a pink polka-dotted bird!

Having exhausted that chain of thought, Clara's mind wandered aimlessly, from thoughts of the prince, to Eve's tardiness, to the fact that there was a hair on her sleeve, to...

The late hour and the fatigue were getting to her. Clara allowed her mind to wander everywhere, a sort of waking sleep for her.

Nearly half an hour later, she remained where she was, seated on the floor, surrounded by the folds of her dress, the two potion bottles, and the other contents of the trunk that she had flung about in her search. Eve finally walked into Clara's quarters and put her head around the screen, looking more tired than her charge. Clara looked up at last.

"Eve." Clara made no effort to be cordial. She was not in the mood.

"My lady," Eve sighed. She glanced at the mess Clara had made and seemed to realize something. "Oh, you would like to bathe. I will be right back. I didn't fetch any water." She sighed again and tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ears.

Clara stood up stiffly, automatically. "Don't worry," she said flatly. "I can just bathe tomorrow."

Eve nodded, then put her hand to her head and slumped to the wall. Clara watched her crumple to the ground, supported only by the stone.

Clara leaned up against the wall as well, only to join her friend on the floor a moment later. They looked at each other, at how ridiculous they looked, and giggled weakly.

"I...have to get out of this corset," Clara finally managed. Eve gave her the barest hint of a smile, pushed against the wall, and unsteadily rose. She held out her hand, and Clara felt a strong wave of recognition. The way they were was exactly the same as the day she had arrived; only Eve was holding her hand out rather than Colin.

Clara took the proffered hand and stood. They both made their way to the screen, where Eve undid the back of Clara's gown and untied the laces of the dreaded corset. Clara's relief at having the thing off nearly eclipsed the exhaustion that filled her. There is no greater pleasure than removing a corset you have been wearing for hours. Eve helped Clara into a nightgown and they both made their way to their respective beds.

The next morning, all Clara could think about was the prince and her dilemma. How was she supposed to be rid of him? He was following her around like a dog! He clearly was deeply in love with Melanie.