Thunder rumbled in the distance, accompanied by the shrill crackle of lightning, as a long streak of white tore through the midnight skies.
"You are a very--peculiar man."
She said the words in a soft voice that dripped of malice.
Placing the wine goblet on the tray, Ophelia resisted the urge to say something as foul as the taste that settled in her throat, a taste that seemed to make her tongue go numb.
She'd need water and maybe her stiletto to stab someone with.
The young duke took another sip of wine, swirling the bitter liquid in his mouth before he swallowed. Savoring the semi-sweet aftertaste, he turned his attention to the angry woman that sat across from him, then continued.
"Do not make that face Princess. I assure you, it's not as bad as you think."
He teased and her frown deepened.
This time his low chuckle resounded in the chamber, making it obvious that he enjoyed irking his bride. The sound of his amusement was no sooner drowned out by a long windy howl.
The weather steadily worsened.
Another boom of thunder struck, it seemed to make the entire castle shake in its foundation.
The crystal festoons on the chandelier chimed discordantly as a wild gust of wind blew into the room, tearing through the open window.
Ophelia wanted to pour the wine on him, it didn't require much, just a single flick of her wrist, a small mistake out of supposed fright...besides she could easily blame it on the breaking storm.
Yet her conscience wouldn't let her.
Or was it tolerance.
"Be careful your Grace. You sound almost out of character."
She said, leaning back into the plush chaise. She watched him as intensely as he watched her, although her actions were borne out of annoyance rather than curiosity.
"One would almost think that you weren't as conceited as you carry yourself to be."
"I believe such people to be victims of their own assumptions. I also used to think princesses were all pampered and polite. You, dear lady, have repeatedly corrected that misconception."
'This man!'
Most ladies within the high society found it difficult to weave words this well, yet here was a seemingly battle-hardened man leaving her speechless.
"And what misconception might that be?"
She questioned, awaiting his sly response and choosing to ignore the displeasure his words left her with.
"You tried to kill yourself."
Her breath hitched. His reply wasn't what she anticipated, and it left her spellbound.
"So much for being pampered and polite, don't you think?"
He added taking another sip of wine. The large candles flickered, their warm light enlivening the chamber despite the gusty air that continued to flow in.
A weighty silence settled between them. The place suddenly felt hotter to Ophelia who'd started to breathe faster, trying to school her reaction.
Standing abruptly, the Princess turned away from him. She didn't want to talk about this, or remember it for the matter. It was past, she didn't want to entertain even the slightest bit of it for a moment.
Surprised by her reaction, his piercing steel eyes followed her, curiosity evident in them. Claude was confused but he wanted to know what she'd say next, what she'd do.
He had followed her gaze several times that evening and knew she was burning with the urge to douse him in the very wine he served her.
Well, to an extent he deserved it. The drink was a very bitter one, even though it was a wine he fancied, the poor lady made her preferences clear beforehand.
The young duke didn't mean anything by it though. Truly.
Okay. Maybe he sought to tease his bride a little bit, albeit to lighten the tension that seared between them. Plus he enjoyed seeing her struggle to master her expressions.
It was interesting to watch.
But at this point Claude knew he was overstaying his welcome, it was written all over the sour face she pulled.
She left him to drink and all but marched to the door. Clearly the princess had had enough of him for one night and was prepared to send him away, forcibly if she had to.
Savior be damned.
Sensing his words gave a worse effect than intended, Claude went after the annoyed lady, catching up to her in a few short strides.
He moved in front of her, stopping her march a few paces from the door.
"It's been a long day, your grace, I'd like to get some sleep. Thank you for coming to see me,"
She said calmly, craning her head upward to meet his gaze, then added.
"Although you shouldn't have. Please have a goodnight."
'Is she angry?'
Claude knew he over spoke, but he didn't mean to annoy her to this extent with his question. The young duke was truly puzzled as to why his bride tried to make an attempt on her life at their first meeting.
Also he wished to ask how she was, afterall there was the incident at the carriage which left her bedridden for some days.
Though the physician had all but assured everyone it was due to stress, he wondered how much pressure the little woman had on her shoulders to cause such a breakdown.
Not that he cared much, this was merely the minimum he would offer. With this thought he said.
"I spoke out of turn and caused you discomfort, I am sorry."
Bowing his head respectfully, he apologized to a slighted Ophelia who did not expect such from him.
"You have been rude more times than I care to remember your grace, and we've only conversed twice."
The princess stated, folding her arms.
Claude stopped himself from smiling at her sudden position. Instead he allowed her to have the reins of control, since he was truly sorry about his impolite impressions...at least...about that one time.
"I know and I'm sorry for the discourtesy I have shown so far." He said. In a low and playful tone he added,
"Though I have also played the hero more of those times"
"What was that?"
"Nothing at all."
He looked up and smirked at her, his eyes lighting mischievously. Ophelia, still upset, felt warmth heat up her cheeks as their eyes met.
'Ugggh! Pull yourself together Lia. He should apologize properly. Or should I just insist he leaves?'
Outside, the rumbling thunder and rippling flashes of lightning had faded with the night, and the storm they announced along with them. The winds, now softer, blew into the chamber in harmony, causing the many candle lights to flicker as they continued burning.
The princess' internal struggle was lost to her calm demeanor and Claude sensing this believed his past behavior pardoned.
He wanted to ask the question again, why she sought to take her own life, but then thought against it. That's when her words broke through his train of thought.
"And what are you apologizing for?"
She questioned.
"What?"
'What is she playing at now?' The confused man thought.
"Why are you sorry?"
She asked again, moving closer to him, erasing the distance between them, step after step.
"For the rudeness I showed, and you are upset because of that."
She was confusing him even more.
Now they stood just a few steps apart and her gaze didn't falter from his.
"Then say it properly."
"I am saying it."
"State it so you know why you're apologizing."
She demanded, unfazed by his form that easily towered over hers.
"What? Princess I have said it, isn't that enough?"
He questioned.
If this is how difficult it was to pacify a wife, he could now understand why most of the married soldiers were often distressed.
"It is not."
'What a ridiculous woman.' he thought.
Another wave of silence settled between them.
Claude's speckled blue eyes, previously jovial, now narrowed in a gaze as frosty as ice. The air around them seemed to chill, and the flickering candles cast a long shadow across his stern visage.
Ophelia swallowed. She planted her feet firmly, resisting the urge to step back, to move away from the predator that made her large chamber feel, oh so little.
He fixed his stare on the woman before him, the small, infuriating woman who needlessly treaded on the edges of his patience. His brows furrowed, creating an expression that conveyed both a subtle warning and silently demanded her attention, the weight of unspoken repercussions hanging in the air.
Finally he looked away and Ophelia released a tensed breath she never realized she was holding. She took a step back as Claude walked past her, he stopped at a table retrieving a simpler chalice from it then proceeded to pour water into it from a similar jug.
The princess didn't know there was any water there. Now that she thought of it, she didn't know where many things were in the room and yet he did, it was all so familiar to him.
"Here, drink this,"
He said, handing her the chalice.
"It will help with the aftertaste. There's more water in the jug there if you wish to wash your mouth."
Ophelia was not expecting this, still she took the chalice from him, offering a word of thanks in return.
"I apologize for what I did with the wine and how I spoke afterwards"
He said.
"And also for what I said to you in the carriage when we first met, it was unbecoming of me."
By now Ophelia was positively shocked.
Yes, this was the apology she wanted all along, but actually getting it felt surreal, and yet here it was.
Though a part of her still questioned the veracity of his words. For now, it was enough.
The princess was satisfied.
Pushing away the uncanny tension that swarmed them only moments earlier, she took a small sip of water, the cool liquid tasted wonderful and it did wonders for the bittersweet smack in her mouth.
"I accept your apology. Have a good night, your grace."
"Rest well Princess."
Ophelia turned away from him, walking back to the reclining area where their unfinished wine still sat at the table, whereas he reached the door at that time and made to leave.
But paused just as he was to step out of her chambers.
"And Princess,"
He called, turning to her, she mirrored his actions almost as swiftly.
"Do not soon forget what I said that day. I meant every word of it."