The Scales | A "The Jewel" Fanfiction

The First Appointment

When we arrive back at the palace, Claire is waiting to take me back to my chambers.

The Duchess removes the leash, and I shuffle away from her. The world is hazy around me, unreal. Her guards loom over me. I wonder if one of them is going to shoot me, if he was paid off by another House. I quickly turn and follow Claire up the curving staircases in a daze.

That girl is dead. She was so small.

It couldn't have taken that much poison.

It could have been me. The Electress bet on me. I could have been the one being mourned by the royalty today.

By the time we reach my drawing room, numbness has usurped the fear. I follow Claire into my bedroom and sit in one of the chairs, letting her pull the veil out of my hair. She pulls me out of the chair and takes me into my dressing chambers. I stare at the girl in the mirror, the blank, dull look in her eyes. Claire unzips the dress and I step out of it, watching her return in to the hanger in one of the closets.

She returns with a simple silver gown, and I step into it. Claire says nothing, but brushes a few curls off my shoulder. Then she suddenly sweeps me off my feet, carrying me to the huge bed and setting me gently on the sheets.

"Are you okay?" she asks, placing her hand on top of mine. I shake my head, biting my lip. Her dark eyes study me, concern lacing their depths.

"I saw you this morning." I inhale sharply as it hits me. It had been Claire in the window, watching the Duchess lead me on that leash.

"So you saw everything, then?" I ask. She starts tracing circles over my hand.

"I did. I hated seeing you on that leash, like you were a piece of her property." Claire grabs my hand, holding it to her chest, the lace of her dress scratching my fingertips. I blush and look away from her, focusing instead on the silky comforter's swirling design.

"That's how it is. Surrogates, we're only meant to have their children," I explain to her. Claire huffs and I look up to see a storm brewing.

"But you're still a person! How can they look at someone and think that it's okay?" She storms around the room, and I'm reminded of the violent fits of passion Raven had, of shattered glass and raised voices.

"Please stop, Claire. It's fine. I'll get used to it," I whisper. She turns and looks at me, ready to go off, but the storm calms when she looks at me.

"Okay, I'll leave it. For now, anyways."

I smile. "That's enough for me."

I walk over to the small coffee table, where the tarot cards are still scattered. I sit in the plush velvet chair and sweep the cards into a stack. Claire sits down across the table and leans back in the chair.

"So, can you read me?" I look up. She's completely serious.

"You want me to read you?" I ask, dumbfounded. She nods, drumming her fingers on the glass tabletop.

I laugh and shuffle the cards, focusing on Claire, the idea of her entirely. I want to know what embodies her, what inspired the kindness and concern I saw today. She looked as if she was willing to destroy the palace to protect my honor, or something along those lines. I pull the top card, not bothering to cut or go through my regular routine. It just doesn't feel right this time.

It's the Ten of Cups. Not reversed, but blissfully upright, for a divine love, for harmony. Maybe she's a people-person. It'd explain the divine love as a more universal one for people, and the harmony too. I relate the basic meaning and suggestions of the Ten, but Claire only laughs.