Chapter 27 Clara
The caravan stopped to make camp shortly after the sun set. Everyone was full of laughter and energy. They built a couple small campfires, and one of the men brought out a fiddle and played for them.
Clara clapped to the beat, smiling as the children danced and ran in circles around the flames.
A couple of the adults stood and danced in a beautiful pattern.
She focused on the flames, the laughter, the music–not Carver’s arm around her.
She tried to disassociate from that, because every time she thought about his presence next to her she wanted to scream.
She wanted to beat the hell out of him, show him exactly how capable and strong she was.
She would prove to him she didn’t need his protection; he needed to be protected from her.
But she couldn’t. Her assignment rested on her pretending to be his wife.
Her assignments came before her emotions. Always. This was no different.
She wasn’t sure what she had done to deserve this kind of torture, but perhaps the gods were real and she had managed to piss off one of them.
Or, every single one of them to have warranted this kind of sentence.
The fate of a kingdom rested on their ability to play a role they discarded years before.
Carver tried to apologize at least five times before they made camp.
She smiled at him, conveying to everyone around them how in love she was.
But she stopped responding to him. The puppy dog look he kept giving her told her he knew exactly how she felt about him right now.
Good. He deserved all of her hatred and more. He should know every smile was an act.
“Wanna dance?” He whispered, breath tickling her ear. She stilled, and breathed in through her nose, out through her mouth, to keep from jerking away from his nearness. Her skin crawled, and she almost shivered.
“No.” She didn’t wish to elaborate. His arm around her was hard enough. But his body pressed against hers? A smile pasted on her face as they swayed to the music? That was more than she could take.
“Oh c’mon. It’ll be a good show for everyone. We’re supposed to be newlyweds, and I don’t think we’ve done a very good job of convincing everyone we’re completely in love.” He continued whispering in her ear, breath hot on her face. She swallowed, eyes glued to the fire.
“Well, maybe that’s because we’re not.”
“Rule number one.” He cited, moving away. She turned to glare at him, annoyed how his dark eyes reflected the light of the flames and caused his entire face to glow with warmth.
“After breaking the rules all day you’re citing them to me now?”
“We agreed the rules were written in order of importance, right? So we need to make sure number one stays the top priority. Besides, just because we broke one once, doesn’t mean we should continue to break it.”
“Doesn’t mean we should continue to break it?” She gritted out, “Then why are you asking me to continue touching you?”
He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. “You know what, Clara? Forget I asked.”
He leaned back, his face devoid of emotion as he laid on the grass.
Julia stumbled over, a drink in her hand and her eyes bright from whatever was in the jar. “Aren’t you two lovebirds going to dance with us?” She laughed loudly, and Clara smiled agreeably. “Wait, you need to meet my husband Mark!” She called out for him to come over.
“Carver isn’t feeling well. We’ll sit this one out.” Clara explained, stroking Carver’s arm gently. The picture perfect wife.
Carver sat up, and Clara’s hand fell to the ground. “Actually, I’m feeling much better now and think we should go out.”
Despicable human. She couldn’t reject him in front of Julia. “Oh, hon,” she laid it on thick, hoping Julia’s slightly dazed state made it more believable, “It was a long day. I don’t want you to push yourself too hard.”
He stood up and brushed the dirt off his pants.
“You know, I think it’ll help me feel better.
” He smiled at her, but she could see the smugness behind his look.
Another deep breath through her nose, out through her mouth, and she resisted the urge to pull him down next to her as she took his hand.
The good Calyndor girl would never do that.
So she couldn’t do it, no matter how much she wanted to.
A man she could only assume was Mark, reached Julia’s side and wrapped his arm around her waist. “Julia’s told me a bit about you two,” he smiled.
His eyes crinkled at the corners, and he looked at least ten years Julia’s senior.
Julia gazed up at him, love struck eyes making Clara feel both envious and sick to her stomach.
“We’re always happy to have new people join our caravan. What part of Calyndor do you hail from?” He was far more sober than Julia, and Clara knew she couldn’t smile her way out of this one.
Before she could panic, Carver jumped in, “The south. Our family owns a couple shops in that area. It isn’t often we get away. But we couldn’t resist traveling for the festival. I’ve heard it will be…enlightening.”
Mark nodded, accepting Carver’s answer without hesitation. “There was a rumor they’re unleashing some of the…projects they’ve been working on.”
“Projects?” Clara couldn’t help questioning. She looked up at Carver to see if he understood the implication.
Julia laughed loudly, “Mark just likes to be confusing.” She smacked him on the arm lightly, and he softened, relaxing under her touch.
“You’re both dancing with us, right?” Carver spun Clara in a circle she was completely unprepared for; she almost tripped and he caught her haphazardly as he pulled her back, his hand resting on her low back.
Clara sucked in a breath. Julia clapped her hands excitedly.
“This is my favorite part of trips. It’s so much fun and it’s never the same when we’re home.
” Julia gazed up at Mark again, “The dancing, the music, the drinks,” she giggled turning back to Clara, “The time with loved ones that feels more…” her voice trailed off momentarily as she searched for the word, “Intentional, than the day to day routine.”
Clara smiled back at Julia, “I understand,” she lied.
Carver tugged on her hand, pulling her onto the dance floor.
The second Clara turned her back on the happy couple, she dropped the pleasant expression and glared at him.
He ignored it entirely, not deigning to even raise an eyebrow at her anger.
He spun her away from him, gracefully pulling her back against him as he led them into the dance circle.
She would have stumbled, but her feet stayed sure and his confidence in the movements kept her own responses smooth.
He tightened his arm around her waist and she felt the air leave her lungs.
“I hate you.” She whispered, attempting to ignore the feel of his arms around her body.
It wasn’t fair. He stepped precisely, leading her through the moves of the dance.
“No you don’t.” He whispered back. He rested his chin on her hair, cocooning her in his warmth as the cool night air blew throughout the camp.
“Projects?” She asked him quietly. If she could keep the conversation work related, maybe she could convince herself she wasn’t enjoying this.
Enjoying him. Maybe she could ignore how safe she felt in his embrace, ignore how his slight beard tickled her cheek when she leaned in to ask him a question.
He glanced around, “Maybe more scientific developments?”
“Maybe.”
She balled her hands into fists, refusing to touch him more than she was forced to. When he spun her out and back into him, he twirled her so her back was against his chest. “You know, you’re allowed to have fun in moments like this.”
His breath on her ear caused her to shiver, and his arms brought her even closer. Her heart pounded under his touch, and she couldn’t ignore the fact she wanted more. She wanted his hands on her. She wanted him to feel just as tortured as she felt.
He spun her so she was facing him, pulling her waist against him as they swayed.
His thumb traced across the line of skin where her t-shirt had lifted.
She reached one hand up and wound her fingers through the curls forming at the nape of his neck.
He closed his eyes and leaned back ever so slightly into her touch.
The music grew softer, and his arm around her waist tightened as he looked down at her. His face was only inches from hers, and he started to lean down, closing the gap between their lips as his eyes flicked across her face.
Terror filled her mind. She couldn’t let him kiss her.
If he did, she would fall again, right back into his orbit.
A moth to a brutal flame. He wouldn’t even see the damage he caused, but she would be irreparable.
Burns heal, but they always scar. “Don’t do this to me,” she managed to whisper right before his lips touched hers.
Somehow, mercifully, those almost silent words caused him to release her.
“You know what, I am pretty tired. We should crash.” He said loud enough to explain their departure. He kept a loose grip on her hand, all for show of course. Relief, and disappointment if she was honest, flooded her chest as they left the flames and dancers.
They grabbed their bags from their previous spot, and walked far enough from the group they could barely hear the shouts and excitement.
Clara enjoyed the momentary silence, but knew questions from Carver were quickly coming. “What,” he inhaled, and she could hear the tension in his breath, “Exactly am I doing to you, Clara?”
She wished he hadn’t said her name. Wished that single moment hadn’t taken her back to when she was his. Her name sounded so wrong on his lips now, and she wanted him to take it back. Foolish.
“Everything.” She whispered as she unpacked her blanket.
She was determined not to lose her composure, determined to keep her focus and complete this mission.
Carver wouldn’t be the death of her. He wouldn’t stop her from fulfilling this.
She could do it. She could and she would.
She wouldn’t let petty emotions rule her actions.
“Everything?” He questioned.
“Just drop it, Carver, okay? This isn’t a conversation I want to have right now.”
“What is a conversation you want to have right now?”
“We’re really bad at following the rules.” She spit out, trying not to cry. Tears filled her eyes anyway, and she paused to take a deep breath and compose herself. She was grateful for the dark, grateful he couldn’t see the anguish consuming her face.
“Is that even relevant anymore?” His voice remained perfectly calm, sterile, almost. He was logical with the mission as the only thing of concern. Because, of course, she wasn’t his concern. She never was.
“Yes, Carver, yes! It’s all relevant.” A tear fell but she swiped it away before he commented, “You want me to trust you for this mission. You want me to trust you to have my back. But how can I? How can I trust you with anything? You never follow through on your word. This time around is no different.” She closed her eyes, blocking out the sight of him.
She couldn’t stand the hurt look on his face.
It wasn’t fair her words could hurt him in that way. Not when he hurt her the way he did.
“And I,” she paused, attempting to maintain some semblance of composure as her voice broke, “I fall for it every time. No matter how strong I am, how strong I become, I still see you as this knight in shining armor. And you’re not.
You’ve hurt me more than anyone else ever has.
You didn’t save me. You’re not the hero.
You may not be the villain, but you made me who I am. Do you understand that?”
He shook his head as she continued. “Weapons are forged. I’m no different. The fire that pushed me to become this was your betrayal. Don’t expect me to forget and just trust you like everything is okay. It’s not okay. None of it is okay.”
“Okay.”
“That’s it?” She raised her voice, and could feel the hysteria building. “I say all of that and the only response you have is ‘okay’?”
“What response do you want me to have?” His voice was rougher than she had heard it before, and she took a step back awaiting an outburst from him.
“Do you want me to say that you’re right?
That I’m a horrible person and all I’m capable of is hurting you?
I know it’s true! I know, okay? And I’m trying to do the right thing and protect you now, but it’s never enough, is it?
All I’ve ever done is try to protect you. ”
“Maybe you shouldn’t.” All of her aggression flew out in that one statement.
“Yeah, I’m getting that.” He ran a hand through his hair, the defeat clear on his face.
He laid out his blanket, and folded himself into it facing away from her.
Another tear trickled down her cheek as she watched his form inhale and exhale. She didn’t bother to wipe it away as she laid out her own blanket and curled into herself.