Chapter 70: Peeping Tom
Claire looked from face to face.
"I told you I make them myself." Lara blurted out.
"What kind of charm oils, if I may ask, Lara?" Claire asked, folding her arms across her chest.
"Very special charm oils, my lady."
Claire ran a hand through her hair.
"What made you think I need charm oils?"
"To woo the King, of course." The quiet one said.
Claire took a step back.
"And why would I need to woo the King?"
They all looked at her with huge eyes as if she’d just asked the most stupid question in the world.
"To beco the queen, milady." Freckles answered.
Beco the queen? They wanted her to beco the queen? Did she even want to be the queen?
A dry laugh escaped her.
"Do you find this funny?" The one with the pale face asked, her brows furrowing.
Claire gulped, forcing herself to stop laughing.
"As a matter of fact, I do. What makes you think the King would settle for soone like
even if I doused myself in charm oils day and night. All societal laws reject . This," She waved her hands around at nothing in particular, "has to stop."
Then she turned to leave. Lata moved to block her path.
"You would make a wonderful queen."
"Don’t put ideas in my head."
She headed for the door.
Just as her hand rested on the knob, the freckled one asked, "Are you attending the council eting in your chemise, Miss? That would be more seductive than any of Lara’s oils, except that you would be seducing the whole council rather than just the King."
Claire looked down at her transparent undergown and coloured. She hadn’t realized that she hadn’t dressed up.
All but Lara were trying to suppress their laughter.
A knock on the door made her jerk her hand away from the knob of the door.
"Who is there?" She called out.
"We have co to serve food." The person at the other end responded.
She turned the knob and opened the door.
Three serving maids ca in, each bearing trays full of food she couldn’t ever hope to finish, no matter how hungry she was.
"Is this your idea of a befitting breakfast?"
All of them bead at her. She just knew she was going to be late to the eting. She could imagine Yeren’s disapproving gaze staring at her as she made her way through the room of unsmiling faces.
"Fine." She said,mostly to herself than to anyone else.
The four won exchanged triumphant glances amongst themselves.
"Very well. Shall we?" They gestured at the steaming bath they had prepared.
Claire sighed as she sank into the water. It was a heavenly relief after the events of the previous evening. Lara had to beg her to co out of the water.
No new dress had been delivered to her that morning. She restrained herself from enquiring about it, although she had grown used to seeing beautiful dresses every morning.
Was the King angry with her? Or was he doing what she told him to do - leaving her alone?
"Let
find you a dress."
She sat down at the edge of the bed to eat while waiting for them to produce a dress from her dresser. They had even brought a serving of fruits - which was actually the only thing in the assorted trays of food she had an appetite for.
When she was done eating, the girl with freckles produced a bright pink gown.
Claire squinted her eyes at the diabolical colour of garnt before her.
"I cannot wear that?"
"Whyever not?"
Claire blinked. "I don’t like such bright colours."
Lara hissed. "You’re not a widow yet, young lady. Don’t dress like your old mothers while you are yet young."
Even the serving maids shook their heads at her because she ate so little. The last thing she wanted was to have to visit the chamber pot because of over eating.
Claire left her room wearing the sa pink dress she had blatantly rejected. She couldn’t rember when it was sent to her, but it was sent nonetheless.
Terrence followed quietly behind her. She considered stopping at her sister’s room, but she didn’t want to be later than she already was. And Rory liked to sleep late.
The main hall was very busy with servants hurrying about to tend to the arriving dignitaries.
Stable boys and carriage riders could be seen running about, shouting orders at the top of their lungs. Maids gathered at the bottom of the staircase to gossip.
She drew in a deep breath when she reached the door of the council’s chamber.
Voices could be overheard from within.
"I wonder what is keeping that pompous King of ours." A gruff voice said.
"He’s probably still abed with his Cupbearer!"
Raucous laughter rumbled through the room within.
Claire froze, her hand curling on the knob.
The King hadn’t arrived yet? Was he still in his chambers?
When the laughter died down, soone else said, "I wonder if she serves him wine in bed."
More laughter sounded through the room.
Her cheeks burned.
Is this what they talked about when the King was not with them? The urge to storm into the room and let them feel her rage. But instead, she dropped to the keyhole and peeped into the room.
The table was visible to her.
"The girl has a lot of nerve, just like her father. She denied serving
wine."
She couldn’t see the person who spoke because he was covered by a row of chairs.
The King’s chair was vacant, so was Aldrich’s chair.
Aldrich hadn’t arrived?
"Servants are supposed to wait on their masters, but in their case, it’s the other way round. The srupid girl still thinks she’s a respected Lady."
"Imagine a servant keeping the King waiting! He tolerates nonsense from her, but doesn’t tolerate the slightest wrong from us."
Rodick leaned forward, clasping his hands from what she could see.
"What if the King disregards us and marries her?"
Claire leaned forward, eager to hear more.
"What may I ask, are you doing, Miss Stenly?"
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