In Favour |Clara Walseworth|

Days and days ~ Chapter 6

Germany, 1817.

By 1817, a few months after their wedding, Clara and William's marriage had settled into a comfortable rhythm. While not deeply passionate, their relationship was amiable and pleasant, largely built around the public life they were expected to lead. Clara had embraced her role as the wife of a prince, attending grand balls, elegant dinners, and making frequent public appearances alongside William.

Despite her initial nerves, Clara had learned to navigate the formalities and pressures of royal life with poise. Her etiquette lessons had paid off, and she rarely made mistakes at court. She and William presented a charming, united front, and the people adored them. William, with his natural charisma, was always at ease in the spotlight. He thrived on the energy of parties and public events, often taking center stage with a jovial manner and light-hearted banter.

Clara, though quieter, admired his ability to charm others so effortlessly. While she sometimes found the endless cycle of social events exhausting, she could not deny that William made their public life easier with his relaxed approach. When they were alone, however, William seemed somewhat distant, often discussing the next ball or hunting party rather than more personal matters. Clara had come to accept this.

She was content, if a little bored. Though her dreams of a more adventurous or romantic life had faded, she found solace in the stability of her marriage. William treated her well and, in his own way, seemed fond of her, though his true passions still seemed to lie with the grandeur of court life and the next event to attend. When they attended state functions, they often smiled at one another, exchanging light pleasantries. Their conversations were never particularly deep, but they were friendly. In public, they appeared perfectly matched, the ideal royal couple. Clara couldn't say she was unhappy; in fact, she felt secure, even if she sometimes longed for something more meaningful than the endless whirl of parties and ceremonies.

One afternoon, after yet another public engagement, Clara found herself alone in one of the palace's many drawing rooms. The quiet was a stark contrast to the bustling life outside. She looked out at the garden, thinking of how her life had changed. Though it was not the fairy tale she had imagined, it was not a bad life, and in moments like these, she reminded herself that contentment was perhaps the best she could hope for.

As Clara sat in the quiet of the drawing room, her thoughts drifted to the events of the past few months. The marriage, though not filled with passion, had brought her a sense of security she had never known. The constant presence of William, while not emotionally deep, was at least familiar. She had learned his ways, his moods, and his habits. He enjoyed his public life—the balls, the hunts, the attention—and she had come to admire his ability to navigate it all with such ease. Yet, there were times when she wished for something more personal, a deeper connection that seemed elusive.

The sound of footsteps interrupted her thoughts, and Clara turned to see William entering the room. He was dressed casually, a rare sight, his usual air of princely charm slightly more subdued. He smiled when he saw her, his usual carefree expression lighting up his face. "There you are, Clara. I've been looking for you," he said, coming to sit beside her. "I needed some quiet," Clara replied with a small smile. "The crowds can be overwhelming at times." William chuckled lightly, leaning back into the sofa. "Ah yes, the endless adoration of the people. It can be rather exhausting, can't it?"

Clara nodded, though she knew William thrived on it. "I think I prefer the quieter moments," she admitted. "The time we spend away from the crowds, even if it's not much." William glanced at her, his brow furrowing slightly. "You always were more introspective than I," he said, not unkindly. "But we make a good team, don't we? The people love you, Clara. You've become quite popular." Clara smiled softly. "I do what I can." There was a moment of silence between them, comfortable but not intimate. It was a pause that often filled their private moments—neither awkward nor particularly meaningful. Clara had grown used to it, accepting that this was the nature of their relationship. She would not have grand romantic gestures or deep emotional conversations, but she did have respect and stability.