Whatever It Takes 2: Scoundrels and Heroes (Excerpt)

Chapter 12

Clara really was starving and kept stuffing her mouth with food, ignoring Oscar's amused smirk. It wasn't just yesterday when she barely ate anything. She hadn't eaten properly in weeks, ever since she got engaged. And now, since at least part of her nervosity disappeared, she found herself absolutely famished.

Friska set a table for them in the corner of the bedroom, ordering a couple of palace maids around until everything was to her satisfaction and then sending them to clean the bathroom to give Oscar and Clara some privacy.

Oscar talked about his family while Clara ate, most likely in an attempt to even out their ground since he knew a lot about her from his 'friends'. Even though he grumbled about how his brothers were perfect and always teased him, it was clear he loved them. The same with his parents, he seemed to absolutely adore his mother, making her sound like some goddess of kindness incarnated into a beautiful woman. Clara felt a pinch of envy. She could barely say one nice thing about her own mother.

"Are you finished?" he chuckled when Clara finally set the fork down and leaned back in her chair. "There is a banana peel left over there and of course, you could always start on the table. Just be careful, cedar wood is quite hard."

Clara rolled her eyes. "Very funny, my dear husband." She grinned at him, in a better mood than she's been in weeks. The vial was forgotten for now, she decided to have one last normal day before attempting anything. Hopefully, Sebastian could forgive her for that.

"I promised you a surprise," he said in a more serious tone, suddenly looking a bit nervous. Clara’s eyes brightened and she tried to hide her excitement, not wanting to look too eager. “I have a gift for you.” Oscar put the napkin aside and stood up, extending his hand towards Clara.

She accepted it with a wide smile. Who doesn’t like gifts? Oscar didn’t let go of her hand as he guided her to another door leading out of the bedroom and it was a strange feeling. Clara often saw couples walking in gardens hand in hand and wondered what it would be like. As it turned out, it was so pleasant it made her heart flutter. She constantly had to remind herself to try to at least look calm and composed. She was a married woman, not an exhilarated teenager anymore.

There was a spacious parlor behind the door, two comfortable armchairs and a sofa placed around a low table next to a now-empty hearth, a few chairs around a board game table close to a large window. The walls were lined by bookshelves filled with various titles. “It’s not mine,” he commented when he noticed her looking around at the extensive library. “I didn’t exactly bring many things over.”

He didn’t sound sad but it still sent a sharp pang through Clara’s heart. She wasn’t the only one who had lost her home and had to leave everything and everyone behind. “How big is this place?”

“It’s just these two rooms, the bathroom, and a small study over there,” he pointed towards a door next to the hearth. “I have taken that one for myself, I hope that’s okay with you.” Clara nodded absentmindedly, still amazed by the parlor. What would she need a study for? Women had no use for such rooms. “You think you could endure living here for some time? I know you are used to a mansion but…”

“It’s perfect, Oscar.” Just enough space for two people. Clara had no idea what would they do with a mansion, not to mention it would probably require her to do some actual household management. Here she could just leave everything to Friska and the palace servants. Maybe find one girl to help her out with the hair and dresses and such like Oscar’s old maid suggested.

Her husband didn’t seem entirely convinced. “Are you sure?” He was still holding her hand and his thumb gently stroked the back of it to make her look at him.

“Yes, I’m sure. I don’t want to move again. I’ve just gotten used to staying here in the palace.” Even if it was probably going to get a bit less relaxed around there now that the king was back. Although who knew? The new king didn’t seem so scary anymore. “At least my mother can’t live here with us,” she chuckled. If they had a house, she’d definitely be there all the time, ‘visiting’.

Oscar smirked. “Yes, I’m sure she’ll be very disappointed and displeased with me. Good thing I’m used to being glared upon.” Clara opened her mouth to start apologizing, ashamed of her mother’s behavior, especially now she knew more about Oscar’s mom, but he shook his head and stopped her. “It’s alright. You don’t get to pick your family. I mean, my sister-in-law is an obnoxious, self-centered prude, but I have to put up with her anyway since my idiotic brother married her.”

“So, about your gift.” He was nervous again, cupping her face and leaning forward to stare right into Clara’s eyes. “I wanted to give it to you yesterday but then I realized that it might actually upset you, so I decided to wait until you were feeling better and, hopefully, trusted me a little.” Now Clara was nervous as well. “I wanted to give you something personal, not just a random piece of jewelry or something like that. And I swear that’s all that is, just a gift that is supposed to make you happy, alright? There is no hidden agenda behind it, no manipulation, or even a threat. Could please keep that in mind?”

Clara blinked in surprise. Seriously, what could he possibly want to give her that would require such a speech? That would make her think he was threatening her? She nodded in response to his question, not entirely sure she even wanted to see the gift anymore.

Oscar let go of her face and gave her an honest smile. “I promise it’s nothing bad. Could you close your eyes?”

She heard him leave, probably for the study, but he returned quickly. There was some soft rustling as he sat something down on the low table in front of the sofa and then he came back to her. “I’ll take your hand,” he said quietly, waiting for her approving nod before gently touching her and guiding her to the table. “Alright,” he drew a shaky breath, “you can look. Just remember, it’s a gift, meant to please you, nothing more.”

Clara was almost afraid to open her eyes and look down but what else could she do? She forced herself to do it and her heart skipped a beat. The gift was long and thin and even though it was wrapped in a black cloth, it was more than obvious what was hiding underneath it. Clara had to remind herself to breathe and even when she did make a sharp inhale through her nose, it didn’t seem to chase away the darkness that loomed in the corners of her vision. Darkness caused by rising panic.

He knew. She thought archery was her well-guarded secret, that nobody outside her family had any clue about. And somehow this foreigner who had just arrived into the city two nights ago knew all about it. Sophia’s words resonated through Clara’s mind. ‘You could have put shame and dishonor on our entire family. I will not let you embarrass your husband.’ Clara had somewhat come to terms with never touching a bow again, just one of the many freedoms she lost by getting married. And now her own husband was giving her one.

What could he possibly mean by it? Was it a silent threat? That he knew what she was doing, that none of her secrets are safe from him? Was he mocking her? Giving her something she wasn’t even allowed to touch? A constant reminder of what control he had over her life?

Her hands were shaking when she reached for the cloth, carefully pulling the top layer aside. She had to blink a couple of times to chase tears out of her eyes. The bow was beautiful. The one she got from her father was an ordinary weapon, a standard military issue, there was absolutely nothing special about it. Oscar’s gift was an artistic masterpiece, the limbs were carefully engraved into amazing shapes, Clara even noticed there were Redwood and Huxley crests carved and painted above and below the grip. All the flare and beauty didn’t make the weapon any less dangerous, Clara guessed that it was going to have about the same draw weight as the one she was used to.

She had to clench her fists at her sides to prevent herself from touching it. She couldn’t, not in front of him. Was that what he wanted? To be able to scold her for laying a hand on a weapon? Her head turned from side to side. No. No touching. Even though all she wanted to do was to slide her fingers over the smooth surface of the yew wood, to string it, to try out the draw weight, to take it outside to that quiet corner of the training grounds that was abandoned most of the time.

“Clara…” Oscar sighed.

She shook her head again. “No. I can’t.” The words were more of a reminder for herself than a response to him.

“Clara, please remember what I said.” His voice was more intense, trying to get to her through the layer of panic and her whirling thoughts. “It’s just a gift. It’s yours, you can do whatever you want with it. You can use it all you want.”

Finally taking her eyes off the weapon, she gaped at Oscar. Use it? “I can’t. It’s… I’ve never seen anything so beautiful, but I just can’t. How… how did you know?”

“The tournament.” His voice was soft and he was smiling. “Someone recognized you there and when I was trying to find out more about you, they were willing to sell that information for the right price.”

He paid people to spy on her, how very romantic. “I’m sorry,” she looked down in shame, “I promise I won’t do that again. I don’t want people to drag your name through dirt because of me. I won’t embarrass you like that.”

“Clara,” Oscar’s hands cupped her cheeks again and forced her to look up at him, “I honestly couldn’t care less about that. I told you I had a bad reputation in Levanta and it’s not going to be any better here. And since you are my wife, it’s going to rub on you as well. I’m afraid the main reason you will be invited into afternoon tea parties now is that you will be a curiosity, someone to take pity on, to gossip about. To question about the evil mysterious foreigner you poor girl were forced to marry.” He sighed, looking sad and apologetic. “I don’t know how much you loved being popular but I’m afraid you will be enjoying a different kind of popularity now, not a very pleasant one.”

Afternoon tea parties? Not really Clara’s preferred way of spending time. She forgot about the bow for a moment as her mind pondered over Oscar’s words. People were going to hate her, she saw that quite clearly last night. Just because she married someone. And she didn’t even have a say in that! How unfair. She imagined walking around the palace halls, quiet whispers from ladies around, the shushed conversations when she got within earshot, the giggles after she left. No, she didn’t love being popular. She never really was popular in the true sense of the word. Yes, her family was rich and powerful but she was an outsider here in the palace and never really fit in. But she was tolerated, even liked by some. And now all of that will be gone just because she was forced to be with Oscar?

Would she change that if she could? Would she choose to be accepted into the flock of vain, envious, self-centered women that moved around the court rather than marry Oscar? Sure, she would have preferred to have a say in the matter but, given the circumstances, it could have turned out way worse. Oscar had been nothing but nice to her and, as far as she could say, he was honest, which was more than she could say about most of the ladies she met in the palace.

Oscar watched her think for a while, carefully scrutinizing her expression before continuing, “But, since you are already in for all that, why not enjoy the freedom it gives you? Trust me, when you are already seen as weird and unpopular, you get away with a lot of things that would be unthinkable in the ‘proper’ society. As I said, this,” he waved his hand over the bow, “is yours. If you don’t want to use it, it’s your decision. But don’t make it because of me. For all I care, you can walk around the palace hallways carrying it. It’s a gift, no strings attached. Quite literally,” he chuckled over his own pun, “apparently the string is only supposed to be on it when you actually use it. Which you probably already knew. I really know nothing about weapons.”

Clara didn’t know what to say. Seriously, how much more perfect could this man get? “Thank you,” she breathed out, still unsure whether it was all real. “I… I don’t know what…”

“It’s a gift, I don’t expect anything in return.” A mischievous smirk twisted his lips. “You could give me a kiss but only if you really want to. The bow is yours either way.”