The grand dining room echoed with the soft clink of fine china, a cacophony of delicate sounds blending with the whispers of servants bustling in and out. Clara sat at the head of the long, polished table, a glass of lemon water untouched in front of her. She glanced out of the window, her thoughts as far from the wedding proposals as the stars in the sky.
Her mother, seated at the opposite end, was glaring at her with a fury that was almost comical. For the third time that week, yet another suitor had come to ask for her hand in marriage. And, for the third time, Clara had found a way to avoid meeting him. Today's suitor was the young Duke of Holloway, a man of impeccable lineage, wealth, and charm by all accounts, the perfect match.
Clara had seen him only for a few moments before excusing herself and running out of the room. His confused, hopeful expression was still fresh in her mind.
"My dear Clara, you simply cannot keep running from every suitor that crosses your path!" her mother had said, hands raised in exasperation as she paced the room. "You'll have no one left to choose from but those dreadful country lords!"
"I'd rather marry a country lord than be locked in a gilded cage," Clara muttered under her breath, hoping her mother didn't hear. But of course, she did.
"Enough of this nonsense!" her mother snapped. "The Duke of Holloway is a fine match! You will meet him again, and this time, you will not run away!"
Clara had only smiled. The very thought of being trapped into a marriage with someone she didn't choose made her skin crawl. So, as always, she excused herself and slipped away to her favorite hiding spot away from the stiff, prying eyes of noble society.
But her escape was short-lived. The moment she stepped out, another young man was there Lord Finnegan, a charming but utterly forgettable lord who'd tried twice before to secure a meeting with her. Clara didn't even give him the courtesy of a proper hello. With a grin and a flick of her long skirts, she disappeared through the servants' entrance, her heels clicking on the stone floors.
At this point, Clara's mother had truly had enough. She was pacing, muttering under her breath when Clara returned home later that afternoon.
"I cannot believe you," her mother exclaimed. "This is the third time this week! Not only is it disgraceful, but it's beginning to be utterly exhausting!" She stopped mid-rant, her eyes narrowing. "You'll go with your sister to the Imperial Palace tomorrow. The Empress will know how to deal with you."
Clara raised an eyebrow, amused. "Oh, will she?" she asked, though her sarcasm was met with nothing but a sharp glare. "Mother, the Empress can have me," she added with an exaggerated sigh, though her lips curled into a mischievous smile. "But, if I might say, I'm rather looking forward to the garden. It's such a lovely day for a run."
Her mother didn't have time for her antics this time. "Clara, I am serious! You will leave tomorrow. And no more excuses!"
Clara smiled sweetly. "Of course, Mother. I'll be on my best behavior."
The next day, Clara found herself in a carriage, dressed to perfection, her sister Amelia by her side, and a group of maids behind them. The journey was long, but Clara's eyes kept darting out the window, distracted by everything but the future that awaited her at the palace. Amelia was already daydreaming about her future role as the Empress's daughter-in-law, as always. Clara, however, could not have cared less.
When they arrived, Clara excused herself from the group, claiming a need to stretch her legs before meeting the Empress. The truth was, she needed a breath of freedom, a break from the suffocating expectations.
She wandered through the ornate gardens, the lush greenery surrounding her. The palace was majestic, of course nothing less would do but Clara had seen all of it before. She wasn't interested in the jewels or the lavishness. It was the freedom she sought, the chance to escape. But before she could even think about leaving the gardens, something caught her eye a small bird, flitting just beyond the edge of the garden path.
Clara's eyes lit up, and without a second thought, she was off, running as fast as her feet could carry her, laughter bubbling up as she chased after the bird. For the first time in what felt like ages, Clara felt free—truly free. The air, the scent of blooming flowers, and the rush of her heartbeat made her feel alive in a way that nothing else did.
What Clara didn't realize was that she was being watched.
Hidden in the shadows of the garden, Emperor Adrian son of the Empress had been taking a solitary walk. When his eyes caught sight of the wild, carefree woman running after the bird, he couldn't help but be intrigued. The young woman's grace and fierce independence were a sharp contrast to the typical ladies of the court, who were always polished, perfect, and restrained.
"Now, who do we have here?" Adrian murmured, stepping into view, his voice low and amused.
Clara, startled, stopped mid-stride, her breath coming in quick gasps as she turned to face the emperor.
"Oh! I.... I didn't see you there, your majesty," Clara stammered, trying and failing to look dignified. "I was… running after the bird."
The emperor's lips twitched into a smile. "I can see that. And you have quite a lot of energy, I must say."
Clara shot him a playful grin, her cheeks flushed. "It's the only freedom I have left, your majesty. The wind, the gardens, the birds they are mine, if only for a moment."
Adrian studied her for a long moment, his eyes intense. "Perhaps freedom is exactly what you need. But I have a feeling it's more than just running from your duties, isn't it?"
Clara raised an eyebrow, not sure whether she should be flattered or offended by his observation. "You could say I have... a certain distaste for things being decided for me."
"Ah," Adrian murmured. "A woman who values her independence."
Clara met his gaze boldly. "And what of it, your majesty? Do you find that... unsettling?"
The emperor's smile deepened, his eyes dancing with a mix of amusement and something else. "No, not unsettling," he said softly, but perhaps... intriguing, if you may excuse me.... He said and he took his leave
*********
The morning sun filtered through the palace's intricate stained-glass windows, casting colorful patterns on the marble floors. Amelia sat in her chamber, a picture of grace and quiet determination. She had spent the better part of her life preparing for this moment becoming the Empress was not just a dream, it was her destiny.
Her heart fluttered as she thought about Emperor Adrian. She had never met him, but the stories of his leadership, his sharp intellect, and his striking looks had painted an image in her mind that bordered on perfection. He was everything she had ever wanted in a husband.
A soft knock on the door interrupted her musings. "Come in," she called.
Beatrice, her ever-faithful attendant, entered, carrying a tray of tea. "The physicians have arrived, my lady," she announced.
Amelia straightened, smoothing her dress. "Good. Let's get this over with."
The examination was thorough, though Amelia bore it with patience and poise. As the physician concluded, he offered a reassuring nod.
"You are in excellent health, Lady Amelia," he said. "There is no reason to doubt your ability to bear a strong heir for the empire."
Amelia allowed herself a small, satisfied smile. "Thank you, doctor. You may inform the Empress Dowager of the results."
As the physician left, Amelia turned to Beatrice. "Everything is falling into place. Soon, I will be Empress, and nothing no one will stand in my way."
Beatrice hesitated, her expression uncertain. "But, my lady, the emperor has yet to meet you. What if.... "
Amelia silenced her with a sharp look. "He will choose me. He has no reason not to."
In another wing of the palace, Emperor Adrian was meeting with his council. Discussions of state affairs dominated the room, but Adrian's mind was elsewhere.
He couldn't stop thinking about the woman he had encountered in the garden. Clara Huddleston. There was something about her something wild and unrestrained, a sharp contrast to the carefully polished nobility he was used to.
The meeting dragged on, with advisors debating trade routes and military strategies. Finally, Adrian had had enough. He stood abruptly, his chair scraping against the floor.
"Enough," he said, his tone commanding. "We will resume this discussion another time. I have more pressing matters to attend to."
The council exchanged bewildered glances but bowed as Adrian left the room.
The grand hall was filled with nobles and courtiers, all gathered for what they assumed would be an ordinary announcement. The Empress Dowager sat on her gilded throne, her expression unreadable. Amelia stood to her right, radiating confidence.
Clara, however, was tucked away near the back of the room, trying to remain as inconspicuous as possible. She had reluctantly joined the gathering at her mother's insistence, but she had no desire to be here. Her encounter with Adrian in the garden still lingered in her mind, though she had convinced herself it meant nothing.
Adrian entered the hall, his presence commanding immediate attention. The room fell silent as he approached his mother and bowed slightly.
"Your Majesty," the Empress Dowager said, her voice smooth and formal. "Have you come to announce your decision?"
"I have," Adrian replied, his voice steady. He turned to address the crowd, his gaze sweeping over the sea of faces before landing on Clara.
Clara felt her stomach drop. Surely, he wasn't looking at her?
"The future Empress," Adrian began, pausing for dramatic effect, "shall be Clara Huddleston."
The hall erupted into chaos.
"What?" Amelia's voice rang out, sharp and disbelieving.
Clara's eyes widened. "What?" she echoed, her voice barely above a whisper.
The Empress Dowager's expression hardened. "Adrian, what is the meaning of this?"
Adrian ignored the murmurs and protests, his focus solely on Clara. He stepped forward, his gaze unwavering.
"Clara," he said, his voice softer now, "will you accept?"
Clara's mind raced. How had this happened? She had come to the palace to escape the pressures of her mother's matchmaking, not to become entangled in an imperial declaration.
"I… I don't understand," she stammered. "Why me?"
Adrian's lips curved into a small smile. "Because you're different. And because I believe you might just be the breath of fresh air this empire needs."
Amelia's face twisted with anger, her hands clenched into fists at her sides. "This is outrageous!" she exclaimed. "She's not even.... "
"Enough," Adrian said sharply, his tone leaving no room for argument. "My decision is final."
The room buzzed with whispers, the nobles exchanging scandalized looks. Clara felt the weight of every eye on her, the enormity of the moment pressing down on her shoulders.
But as Adrian extended his hand to her, something in his eyes a mix of determination and something softer gave her pause.