Chapter 2

Never, in all her borne days, had Clara seen so much outright opulence, such blatant and rich display. Even in the passing of Christmastide and the New Year celebrations, her father, though well off and able to afford finery, had insisted on simpler, less decadent fare. Even her aunt, a woman accustomed to wearing purple and the baubles and glitter that often trailed in the wake of nobility, had to wonder at the rich velvet swathed halls and at the tables filled with fine things she wasn't sure were meant to be eaten as much as admired. Most impressive, however, at the center of all this, were the King and Queen, Henry and Katharine themselves. The room seemed to fall away to reveal the handsome man who bore the crown, his shockingly blues eyes matching the smile that currently graced his face. Everything about him rung true of princeliness. Even his laughter, as he leaned in to share a joke with another roguishly good looking man, seemed to ring out above that of normal men. He was one of the first men about whom she could say that everything anyone had ever said was true and not in the least exaggerated.

Then there was the Queen, a woman who seemed much taller than her diminutive height, towering over every other woman and man present for sheer regal dignity. Beneath the dense, rich darkness of her hair under her beautiful crown, her eyes shone with a blue, river like clearness. Her smile was graceful, yet it seemed not to touch her eyes, which, though still arresting, seemed to hint at an unspoken sadness within her soul. Whatever the case might have been it was their turn to be presented before them. Clara felt her back straightening, her smile widening a bit, her consciousness itself reminding her that she was about to meet the royal couple of England. At her side, her fathers' rough hand gripped her firmly on the shoulder.

"Do try and remember yourself, girl", he warned her, the gruff look in his eyes matching his voice, "this is your introduction to court. Do not disappoint me."

"Of course not, sir", she responded with clipped speech "I will do my level best."

At this moment, she tried to remember all that they had discussed in the carriage on the way here; how to only come forward after the herald had introduced you, the proper amount of time to curtsey, when to rise from the ground, when and if it was ever appropriate to look the King or Queen in the eyes as they spoke to you, and all other assorted trivia of etiquette. Clara vaguely remembered her father chiding her because she hadn't seemed to be listening, at which point she began to try and pretend she hadn't been learning these things since she was about six years of age. She had been born and bred the daughter of nobles, knowing manners and decorum and languages that would make even the stiffest of nobles acknowledge her as one of the class. As much faith as she garnered from others, however, she was not so naive as to think her father had the same confidence. With two daughters already successfully married, and her betrothed, she doubted she would ever understand why not.

The herald stepped forward and said in a loud clear voice, "Sir Robert Roerden, along with his daughter Clara, and the Lady Alice Gibbons, Baroness of Kent."

Clara felt herself urged forward, toward the throne that seemed almost unapproachably high just a few seconds before. As she went to curtsey, she bowed her head respectfully. Those few moments in themselves seemed to drag beyond the hour, until a voice she had never heard before began to speak to her father.

"So this is the daughter you spoke of the last time you were here, Sir Robert," the King spoke, all the while eying Clara curiously.

"Yes, Sire, this is my youngest daughter, Clara."

"Please rise, lady Clara, allow me to see you more clearly. Your father has told me much about you."

Hesitantly, Clara's knees began to straighten, allowing her to rise to her full height. As her eyes started to take in the throne and the man addressing her from it, she found herself nervous, every part of her awake and crackling with energy. This was it, one of the moments for which she had been prepared all her life: she was about to look into the eyes of a king.

As Clara's eyes finally reached Henry's, she held back a gasp. If from twenty feet back he was dangerously handsome, from this distance he was lethally so. The eyes she had found so piercing approaching from the back of the room were as strong as lead anchors now, daring her to move from the spot she stood in. Even sitting down, she could tell he was taller than her, built for jousting matches and thorough, daily hunts, the kind of man that filled the songs of swooning country maidens not unlike herself. No wonder so many women found themselves weak willed in his presence.

"Well, Sir Robert, it seems you have won the wager," proclaimed Henry, still looking at Clara, "her hair is indeed the color of fire."

The smile never left Henry's face as the court broke into laughter at his jest; in fact, it grew. So this was Clara. Her father had said that the girl was exceedingly fair, though he hadn't paid much heed to the comment. So many men, proud fathers, came before him pleading favor, talking in passing of the exceeding beauty of their lands, possessions and daughters. Why should Sir Robert be any different? In this case, however, there had been no liberties taken with words of description. Both women who accompanied him were, in truth, passing, even exceedingly beautiful. Lady Alice, with her dark hair and laughing eyes, could still stop quite a few men in their tracks. It was Clara, though, with her mossy gaze and deep amber hair, that kept his gaze. What a fine distraction she could make. Yes, a fine distraction indeed.

"May I present you, Lady Clara, to my wife, Katharine," he continued in introduction, watching her eyes shift to his right.

" Honored to make your acquaintance, Your Majesty", Clara addressed the Queen, as she curtseyed once more. She welcomed the diversion of meeting the wife of the man whose gaze was still on her at the time. It would remind her to keep her wits about her, maybe even return some of the strength back to her ever weakening knees. Her eyes now traveled to the seat beside the king, looking into the deep and kind gaze of Queen Katharine. Up close, the sadness that Clara had observed seemed more apparent, but not as vast as the stubborn, steely strength that seemed to surround it. Indeed, royal dignity was blatant and obvious when she spoke.

" As am I, Lady Clara," she replied pleasantly, grateful for the girl's respectful air. Many a young woman had been stunned to silence and silliness by her husband, especially when it became apparent that he found them attractive. This one seemed intent on doing just the opposite.

"Sir Robert, I think you may have under reported your daughter to us," the Queen spoke warmly, " she's even more charming than I think you might have told us."

"Thank you, your grace," he replied, glancing in Clara's direction. He had to admit, he was proud of her at this moment. Fiercely so, though he'd never say so out loud. Within just a few moments, it seemed, she had convinced them that everything he'd spoken of her was true. If the King and Queen could be so pleased, surely then his future son in law would present no major challenge. He had seen his two older daughters married successfully into good families; the same,it appeared, would happen for his last child.

"Please, Sir Robert, sit close by," Henry requested, "I should like to speak more with you and your family."

"Looking forward to it, sire," he replied, and after a final bow, he made his way towards a table covered in rich velvet the color of deep french wine. He couldn't help the small smile that crept onto his lips. This was truly turning out to be a fine night.

" Well done, child," whispered Alice excitedly, "did you the see the way she looked at you? I've no doubt it may already have crossed her mind to inquire more of you!"

"I hardly said a word, Aunt Alice," Clara whispered back, "I'm not so sure there was much she had with which to be impressed. Besides, it was not the way she looked at me that caught my attention."

"Never you mind that, girl," Alice warned, gripping her wrist sharply in emphasis, "I will tell you this once and only once: never you mind the looks of a man other than he who is your intended, do you hear me? I don't care if he is a king."

"Of course, madam, I know this already," she assured her, knowing her Aunt only spoke this way out of concern.

"I can see how many a young woman could lose grip of their senses around him, but you must keep in mind that it is your reputation on the line, not his," Alice spoke, adding a bit softer, "I won't see you become another Bessie Bluont."

That sobering reminder brought her soundly back to the earth. Who hadn't heard of Mistress Bluont, once an honorable maiden to the queen, now mother to the king's bastard, discarded by the king himself, and mocked throughout the country side? It was real life, played out for her to see and be reminded: his admiration may be flattering, tempting even, but so were most beautiful things. It made her think of Eve in the bible, at the crucial moment of truth in the middle of the garden. How many times, how many women had stood in that same spot facing certain disaster and unbearable temptation all at once? How beautiful had that disaster looked at the second they were faced with it? It was something she was determined never to know the answer to. She was never one to dive headlong with her eyes shut into anything, especially when the ending was already quite clear.

"Excuse me, Lady Gibbons," she heard the King's voice interrupting them, "I was wondering if I might interest your niece in a dance."

Before her aunt could speak, she found herself rising, taking the arm the King offered her.

"It would be my pleasure, your majesty."

Dive headlong, she would never even consider. Treading the water, however, was an entirely different matter.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Hmmmmmm...the plot thickens. Are Clara's feet as firmly planted as she thinks? We shall see ;) Thank you so much for the kind reviews, please keep'em coming. Oh yeah, and except for Clara and family, I own no one. Enjoy