Clare Of Utopia

CHAPTER 21: The queen can play

Classandra took a comfortable seat on the dais with her brother and mother on either side. The mass gathered at the floor with their heads bowed down as a respect for the queen. With a gesture of Classandra's hand, the music blasted through the crowd, jolting them to the present. Without another word, people found their partners and occupied the dance floors with mesmerizing movements. 

"Should I expect anything out of the ordinary?" The queen mother asked in a silent whisper. "Not that I know of. No," Clare said nonchalantly. Elizabeth nodded, words not being enough to express her feelings. Alex stood up and excused himself, leaving behind his sister and his mother as he weaved through the crowd. Clare's eyes followed his form while her mother continued talking, only to lose him in the crowd.

"I see you are wearing your father's brooch," Elizabeth said in an attempt of small talk. "Yes," was all Clare said. Her eyes kept searching for her brother but just couldn't find him. All she wanted to do then was to find him and beg him to stay by her side. 

"My queen," the Steward called but Clare's attention was completely scattered. 

"My queen," the Steward called again, this time, a little louder. Still no response from Clare. Elizabeth brushed her fingers on Classandra's knuckles, jerking her back to consciousness. It has been ages since she had even the slightest physical contact with her mother as such.

"Yes?" Classandra said, trying to keep a level voice. 

"It's time for your first dance as queen, your Majesty," the Steward said with bowed head. 

"I don't wish to dance," Classandra said. "You may continue the party with the rest of the endeavors."

The Steward wanted to argue or persist but couldn't find the words. Clare didn't seem to mind his discomfort. The queen mother dismissed the Steward with a wave of her hand, easing him of his duties. 

"I know you didn't want to be the queen but you could at least act," the queen mother said through gritted teeth. 

"So you don't think that me actually being here is not me trying to act?" Clare finally faced the queen mother head on with a raised eyebrow. Elizabeth couldn't maintain the heat of her gaze, shifting her eyes everywhere but her. "You know I could just walk out if I want to."

Elizabeth took a shaky breath, her forehead covered with sweat. Her eyes met her daughter's with fright like no other. "Don't sweat. I'm not leaving," Clare said, her eyes darting back to the crowd. "I'm not that cruel."

"Excuse me," she said as she got up from her seat, acquiring anxious glances from the guests. Elizabeth's eyes followed her movements down the stairs but soon stopped, putting on a merry face to the public. She got up herself too, walking away to greet the guests.

Clare stood at the end of the staircase of the dais with no thought in particular. This place was better than the dais in aspects of privacy. Also, she was getting hungry. She doesn't remember the last time she ate. Strolling to the chocolate cart, she picked up one and stared at it, her mind wandering to the group that just pushed away at her presence. Suddenly, she stumbled forward by an impact from behind, catching her off guard. The audience gasped. Turning around swiftly, she found a little girl, not more than 6 or 7 years old, sitting flat on the ground, hands covered in chocolate. 

Clare crouched to match the girl's view. "I'm sorry! I didn't mean to! Please don't hurt me! I–" The girl fumbled with words as her eyes bulged with fear. "Shh, it's okay. It's okay," Clare cooed, calming the storm in the girl's head.

Clare watched as the girl's trembling body settled down with relaxation, breath becoming even by the passing second.

"Are you alright?" She asked once the girl's nerves settled. A small group had now surrounded her to witness the scene unfold. The girl simply nodded, her eyes cast downward. "What's your name?" Clare insisted. The girl slowly lifted her gaze with eyes like doe, filled with tears to the brim. A minute of silence passed and Clare maintained her patience. "Lia," the girl finally said with a small voice.

"Hello Lia," Clare said, a small smile tugging at her lips. "That is a beautiful dress."

Lia hesitated as she looked at her own dress and darted back to Clare with eyes of uncertainty. "Thank you, my queen," she said, making Clare's heart take a leap at the sound of the title, "But I like yours better."

A fake gasp escaped Clare's mouth as she tried to continue the conversation. "Really?" Clare asked with the word exaggerated. Lia nodded. "Well, thank you."

"But now I ruined it," Lia said, her head sulking down again. "Ruined? How?" Clare asked, stunned by her revelation. Lia's tiny finger pointed to a spot on the dress making Clare follow the trail with dread. Seeing what she was pointing at, almost a relieved laugh escaped her.

"You smeared chocolate on my dress?" Clare asked with a mischievous grin, an expression that no one had ever seen her exhibit. The surroundings had almost come to a stand still. "I'm sorry," the girl squeaked, her eyes filling up with tears once more.

"Oh don't worry," Clare exclaimed. "Nothing some magic can't fix."

The girl's eyes darted to her in surprise, any fear that was instilled slowly vanishing. "You can do magic?" She whispered. Clare nodded with determination. "Want to see?"

The girl stood up while nodding her head enthusiastically, walking closer to get a better view. The group peered forward to witness the unfathomable. Ignore everyone else, Clare told herself. Focus on the girl.

Clare started with mesmerizing hand gestures, circling round and round at the spot on the dress. People pushed one another to get a better view. With the end of a minute, Clare swept her fingers across the smudged chocolate and licked it. The crowd was baffled with an exception of only one faint laugh. Clare found Collins at her peripheral vision. "That's not magic!" Lia exclaimed. The girl's face lit up with joy, a grin so wide spreading across her face. "It's not?" Clare asked with a scrunched up face, looking as if her whole life had become a lie. Lia shook her head, still squealing with laughter.

Clare shrugged her shoulders and said, "Anyway, it's gone now, so..."

"There is still a stain on the area," Lia said, any hint of fear completely vanished. "Well then, I guess it is time for the dress to meet another magic called laundry." Lia laughed wholeheartedly at Clare's statement, bringing a sense of joy in Clare's heart.

Reaching into her purse, Lia brought out a handmade origami bouquet and thrusted it towards Clare. "I made this for you," she said in a low voice. "But my mom said not to give it to you."

Clare's heart sank to the levels deeper than the deepest oceans. "But I want to give it to you." With a sad smile, Clare took the bouquet with hesitant hands. "Thank you," she said, examining the perfection and beauty of the small gesture of love. Lia giggled and took off running. Clare stood up and looked at her surroundings, the chocolate in her hand long forgotten, finding people trying to avoid eye contact and shuffling over one another to dismiss themselves. Collins was the only one who walked towards her.

"My queen," he took a bow, his face an incarnation of the god of mischief. "I would like to inform you that my father wishes to meet you." Clare's heart raced at the statement. Praying to whoever was listening, she said, "Lead the way."