In Favour |Clara Walseworth|

Now you see ~ Chapter 12

Germany, 1818.

Rain began to fall in earnest as Clara reached the lower terrace of the palace gardens. It came not as a soft drizzle, but in sudden, determined drops—soaking the hem of her riding skirt and matting loose strands of hair to her cheeks as she turned her face to the sky with a sigh.

Beatrice had already been handed off to the stable carer near the eastern wall, her white coat damp but gleaming, unbothered by the weather. Clara, on the other hand, was half-laughing and half-cursing under her breath as she gathered her skirts and hurried across the gravel path, boots slipping slightly on the wet stone.

By the time she reached the entrance to the east wing, her gloves were damp, her shoulders spotted with rain, and the curls at the nape of her neck entirely undone. A maid opened the door just in time, and Clara gave her a grateful nod as she swept inside, her cheeks flushed from the sudden chill.

"Shall I fetch towels, Your Highness?" the maid asked as Clara passed. "No need," she said between breaths. "I'll see to it myself. Thank you."

The corridor beyond was quiet, the sound of her boots echoing off the wood as she made her way swiftly toward her chambers. She passed two guards and a footman, who bowed politely but said nothing, and soon she was slipping through the doors of her sitting room, already pulling at her gloves with wet fingers.

The fire was lit and burning low, casting a warm golden glow across the space. Marta, ever-attentive, appeared from the inner room within seconds, taking one look at Clara's rain-spattered figure before rushing forward with a linen cloth and a look of exasperated affection.

"Oh, ma'am," she sighed, beginning to dab gently at Clara's sleeves. "You will catch a chill." Clara laughed softly, stepping out of her boots. "Beatrice needed the run. I did not think the rain would come so quickly."."You never think the rain will come," Marta muttered under her breath, though without malice.

Clara shed her riding jacket and unpinned her soaked hat, letting her hair fall loose about her shoulders. The sudden quiet of her chamber—the warmth, the firelight, the scent of rosewood and rain on the breeze—wrapped around her like a balm.

She crossed to the window, watching rivulets of water run down the glass as the gardens slowly disappeared behind a veil of grey. Her thoughts drifted as they often did in these moments—not to court matters, not to politics or titles, but to simpler things. The feel of Beatrice's gallop beneath her, the freedom of wind in her hair, the open paths beyond the walls. She leaned her forehead gently against the pane and closed her eyes.

For a brief, fleeting second, she wished she were no one at all.
Just Clara. A girl on a horse, no crown, no pressure, no careful smiles but the moment passed, as it always did.

She turned from the window with a quiet breath. "Will you prepare a bath, please Marta."."Yes, Your Highness," Marta said, already moving. Clara peeled off her damp gloves and set them carefully on the tray by the fire, her fingers pale and cold.

The bathwater steamed gently in the adjoining chamber, scented with lavender oil and rose petals, the way Clara liked it after a ride. Marta had left her in peace, the door shut behind her with a soft click, and for once the palace felt entirely still.

Clara stepped into the warmth with a sigh, sinking slowly beneath the surface until it lapped just beneath her chin. Her shoulders relaxed, her muscles easing from the tension of the ride and the sudden sprint through the rain. The sound of the storm drummed lightly against the windows, a rhythm she found oddly comforting.

She closed her eyes in the quiet, her thoughts wandered—as they always did when she was alone. To William, mostly. He had been away again, some diplomatic supper in the city he claimed could not be avoided. He had kissed her temple when she left to see Polly and he had told her not to worry that he would be back shortly to see her she knew he would and that he would always returned smiling at her.