Whatever It Takes 2: Scoundrels and Heroes (Excerpt)

Chapter 11

Clara nervously stepped through the door. Behind it was a large bathroom, a big mirror and washing basins set on a table at one side, along with some toiletries. Clara's heart skipped a beat when she saw the vial with poison among her perfume bottles. Friska must have unpacked her things, but fortunately, she didn't realize what it was.

There was a large oval wooden bath in the middle of the room, filled with steaming hot water, rich fragrance of expensive oils spreading through the room. It was big enough for two and Clara shifted her weight nervously upon seeing Oscar sitting inside, scrubbing his arm with a washcloth.

"Sorry," he smiled at her, "I'll just wash quickly, and then it's all yours to enjoy for as long as you want." There were no windows in the room and it was illuminated only by a couple of lanterns but Clara still looked away to avoid staring at his naked chest. He chuckled but his expression turned serious when he said, "Sorry about Friska. She's…"

"Sweet? I like her." Clara sighed and turned around, leaning with her back against the wooden edge of the bath. "Oscar, I don't know anything about running a household." She felt so ashamed.

There was a splashing sound as Oscar moved behind her. "Neither do I, Clara. That's why I dragged Friska along with me over half of the continent. And, to be honest, I never imagined having a huge mansion with dozens of servants. I mean, if that's what you want, we can talk about it, but… I'd be quite content just staying here in the palace for now."

"I have no idea what I want." She never even thought about it. "I'm sorry, I'm such a shitty wife." Clara slid down on the ground, sitting with her back against the wood warmed by the water inside the tub.

Oscar put his arms over the edge of the bath and rested his head against them, looking down at her with a soft smile. "Honestly, my dear wife, if we were in Levanta, everyone would pity you for having such a shitty husband. Just because nobody knows me here, I didn't suddenly turn into ideal marriage material." He sighed and looked aside. "I'm not exactly a good guy, Clara. I'm more of a…"

"Scoundrel?" Clara finished for him, remembering what he told her last night. "Oscar, you've been nothing but kind to me." Way more than she deserved. "I don't care about your reputation."

"Thank you. I don't really know what I'm doing. So just tell me if I'm f*****g something up." With a splash, he slid under the water. When he reemerged, he looked at her with a mischievous smirk. "Hayden is certainly not going to be thrilled if we stay here in the palace."

Angering the king didn't seem like such an amusing idea to Clara but Oscar seemed like he knew what he was doing. She glanced up at him to guess whether she could ask more questions. Curiosity was a dangerous thing. "Why does the king hate you?"

"Could you hand me a towel?" Clara stood up and walked over to an open cabinet, pulling one large towel out. As she was handing it to Oscar, she ostentatiously looked away and turned around before he could stand up and start drying himself, grinning over her blushed cheeks. "It's all yours. I can dry myself and get dressed in the bedroom, Friska won't gossip."

Towel wrapped around his hips, he took a step towards the door. Even in the dim light, Clara could see that while he wasn't overly muscular, everything on his body was clearly defined, not a pound of excessive fat anywhere in sight. The front of his chest was covered by short dark curls and Clara found herself curious about what it would feel like to touch them. Seriously, what the hell was happening to her?

He hasn't answered her question. "You don't want to tell me?" Clara was unable to mask the disappointment in her voice. But why should he want to tell her? Women should stay out of their husbands' businesses.

"What?" Oscar turned around, his furrowed brows coming up as he realized what she was talking about. "Oh, right, about Hayden. Sorry, I got a bit distracted," he smirked. "I'll tell you but you should really take that bath before it gets cold." Clara bit on her lip, indecisively glancing between him and the steaming water. He took a step closer to her, a corner of his mouth curled up. "How about you bathe while I talk? I won't look."

Before she could think about the answer, he turned away from her and went to get another towel, raising it to his hair. The dark, wet locks were reaching just under his shoulders and the water was dripping from them all over the floor and his back. Clara quickly shook off her robe and reached for the edge of her nightgown, hesitating for a second before pulling it over her head. Without taking her eyes off Oscar she climbed into the bath and sighed in pleasure as her body dove into the hot water.

Once he heard water splashing, he hesitantly glanced at her. "Clara? I hope I can count on your discretion. I mean, you didn't strike me as the gossiping type of girl but… I can only be honest with you if I can be sure that whatever I say will stay just between the two of us."

"Of course." Clara nodded, trying to look as serious as possible, while deep inside she was excited he seemed to be willing to trust her with some of his secrets.

Oscar gave her a brief smile and turned away again, scrubbing his hair with the towel. "There are plenty of reasons why our beloved king hates me. I'm a politician. I spend my days talking to people, weaving nets of half-truths and pretty lies, whispering into the right ears, listening to rumors, gossip, complaints. Digging up dirt and secrets. Swallowing whatever insults people throw at me. There is huge power in words, Clara, more than in weapons."

He sounded really passionate and Clara frowned. Did he really just confess to being a professional liar and manipulator and to be enjoying it? He did promise not to lie to her but what if it was just another lie? Maybe Clara should be more careful about him. After all, he did say he was not a good guy. "I was wondering why you seemed so calm when lord Umber insulted you last night. But what good are words when there's a blade to your throat?"

"You should ask the queen about that," he chuckled, sounding almost pleased with Clara's answer, even though she was disagreeing with him. "They were attacked by some rebels set on killing Hayden, he literally had a noose hanging above his head. And Karina managed to talk them down, using just words, nothing else." Clara gasped, she had no idea someone actually got so close to killing the king. Oscar turned, his eyes piercing her. "And that is NOT public information."

A secret. Something she was definitely not supposed to know. There was fear mixed with excitement tingling inside Clara's mind and she nodded vigorously to let Oscar know she understood what he meant. There was no one she could talk to about it anyway, even if she wanted to.

Oscar's expression softened. "Would you like me to help you with your hair? It seemed pretty tangled." Clara nervously wrapped her arms around her chest to cover her breasts. He seemed to like touching her hair last night, it would probably make him happy, but letting him touch her while she was completely naked? "Just your hair," he smiled upon seeing doubts written on her face.

"If you want." She tried to sound confident but her voice was shaking.

Oscar shook his head and turned back away from her. "It's not about what I want, Clara." His hair was almost dry now and he was sliding the towel over the rest of his body. Clara remembered how safe she felt when he was holding her while she cried. Maybe it wasn't such a bad idea.

"There is a bottle of hair oil over there. It needs brushing first. It's a really annoying chore." Oscar gave her an excited smile and headed for the cabinet while Clara dipped her head underwater to get the tangled mess on it wet.

When she reemerged, she sat with her back against the edge of the bath. Oscar was very gentle, putting the oil onto his hands first and then spreading it over her hair. "Anyway. Hayden sucks at politics and hates politicians in general. People who prefer to talk before yelling and stabbing others with a sword are apparently just sleazy worms, without a shred of honor." Oscar scoffed. "As if there was something honorable about killing people."

Clara forcibly kept her eyes down, not letting them wander towards the vial with poison. No, there was nothing honorable about her. "Warrior's point of view," she said quietly. Her father was like that as well.

"Yes, exactly.” Oscar grabbed a brush and started to untangle her tresses. It was strange, he didn’t seem to mind her disagreeing with him. “I don't know how much you know about international politics but there have been multiple feuds between Levanta and Orellia in the past decade. And in the past few years, I’ve played an active part in many of them.”

She knew little to nothing about politics in general, let alone international ones. “Why?”

“Our king didn’t like your king,” Oscar sighed. “It’s more complicated than that but I can’t talk about it. But it means me and a few others have been making Hayden’s life hell for years.”

So, Clara’s husband truly was an enemy to Orellia. The king had every right to hate him. And Clara? “Why didn’t he simply execute you?” She blurted the question out without thinking about it. “I… I mean…” Her voice staggered upon realizing how rude it must have sounded.

Oscar laughed heartily, his fingers and the brush never stopped moving through her hair. “Karina made him promise that there would be no retribution, that we all start with a clean slate. If it weren’t for that, then yes, I’d be dead.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to…”

“It’s alright, Clara. I really don’t get angry that easily. Plus, I did say you could ask me anything.” He was quiet for a while and Clara relaxed a little, tilting her head back, enjoying his gentle touch. “There’s more to it than that. I think Hayden is afraid of me. I have a lot of ‘friends’ all around the world, I know a lot of secrets.”

“And information is power.” That was something Clara’s father used to say when she asked him why he sat over maps and books and parchments all night.

Oscar leaned forward to look into her face, he seemed astonished. “Hmm, looks like my wife isn’t just beautiful but also really smart.” Clara blushed, her cheeks suddenly hot and not just from the warm water she was surrounded by. “I’m a lucky man,” he smiled and kissed her forehead. “I think I’m done.” The brush ran through her hair a couple of times without any resistance. “Dip.” A hand pressed on the top of her head and Clara giggled, taking a deep breath before letting Oscar push her underwater.

He brought a scented soap and rubbed it to create foam, rubbing it into her hair to wash out all the oil. “There’s one more reason,” he said quietly, sounding almost sad. “I didn’t want to talk about it, because this whole situation is weird and I didn’t want to put you in an awkward position.”

“The king is jealous about your relationship with the queen.” Clara knew that much. She noticed his raised eyebrows and smiled. “I might not be a skilled politician but I’m not blind. I saw the way he looked at you when you danced with her.” And Hayden wasn’t the only one who looked at them, Clara remembered her own doubts. Close friends. Were they just that? And did she really want to know?

Some of her thoughts must have shown on her face. “We’ve never been anything more than friends, Clara,” Oscar said in a calm voice. “We grew up together, I’m like a brother to her. Plus, for a reason I don’t understand, she’s actually in love with Hayden.” Clara nodded, unsure why he felt such a need to explain it to her. "Alright, I think your hair is perfect again." He stepped away from her and got dressed while she washed out the soap.

Clara thanked him and he headed for the door back to the bedroom. "I'll go check on the breakfast. Take your time."

"I think I'll be quick. The water is great but I'm starving."

Oscar rolled his eyes. "Of course you are, you barely ate anything yesterday."

He left and Clara sank underwater again, enjoying the warmth permeating her skin. It was far from hot anymore but it still smelled great. She noticed a small back door, probably an entrance for servants. Of course, how else would they've been able to prepare this bath while Clara and Oscar slept? Her eyes were inadvertently drawn to the poison vial. Maybe she could use the door to sneak out unnoticed? Sebastian's kidnapper said that the poison didn't have an immediate effect and if she was careful, she could get away with it.

It was so tempting. To have a normal life, to be with Oscar, get to know him better. Even let him touch her? The way his fingers massaged her head just moments ago felt amazing, making her wonder whether her mother's words weren't really just a lie, a misunderstanding, misinformation. But how could she possibly live with herself after murdering someone? Even if nobody ever found out, even if Orellia didn't crumble in a bloody civil war or whatever was going to happen after Hayden's death. How could she ever look into a mirror and see anything else but a filthy, heinous murderer?