Chapter Thirty:
Getting To Know You
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The sound of Harriet's footsteps faded away and Clara moved away from the door, biting her lip. She didn't want to have their conversation like this. She had looked away from Frederick and the door when suddenly a loud noise brought her attention back to him with a snap. Frederick had slammed his shoulder into the door, but the door didn't budge.
He did it again, his face grimacing from the pain, but the door only jostled slightly on its hinges. He made to do it again, but Clara quickly stepped forward, placing a hand on his arm.
"Stop. It's fine. She'll let us out eventually," Clara pleaded, not wanting Frederick to hurt himself needlessly. Frederick looked down at her, a frown tugging at the corner of his lips, but let out a sigh and backed away from the door.
"I know she will," he responded, running a hand through his hair, making it stick up from all sides. "I just didn't want to do this like this. I mean," he chuckled. "I had a plan and everything. I wanted to wait a little bit, so that way we could get to know each other more."
"We don't have to do what she has told us to if we don't want to. She's thirteen and though she may seem like a master schemer, she's not all-knowing. It's not like she's going to know," Clara said, meeting his eye, but Frederick just shook his head.
"It's not that I don't want to, I just don't want to rush this. I didn't want to force a conversation neither of us seemed to be ready to or wanted to have." Clara nodded in agreement. That was almost exactly what she was feeling. She was very fond of him, that much was obvious, and she knew she could potentially love him, but did she? Clara wasn't sure.
It was a relief to know that they were on the same page on that subject. However, she knew that if it was up to the part of her that was more cowardly than brave, they would never have the conversation they were speaking of. They would never have the chance to try, and that was something she didn't want to happen.
Clara didn't want to follow her sister's order, despite the almost kiss from a couple of days ago. She wanted it to be on their terms, may it be ten minutes from that moment or months from then.
"I agree. I think we should get to know each other better," she said, a small smile tilting her lips upwards as she looked at him. "Did you know that I don't know your favorite color? Or even what you like to do for fun?" Clara sat down in one of the armchairs while Frederick moved to sit in the diagonal to hers.
"I did not know that. Though to be fair, I don't know what your favorite color is or what you like to do for fun either. I didn't even know your last name until my father shouted it out loud when he chose to interrogate you." Frederick let out a chuckle. "I didn't even know your last name, and yet I was completely prepared to do anything to help you. I had never had an argument to that extent with my father until the day he saw me dancing with you instead of Sophia."
"I hope you didn't get into too much trouble," Clara said, leaning forward slightly in her chair to place a hand over his. "That was never my intention."
"Oh no, believe me, the argument was long overdue. In fact, I've argued more with my father in the past couple of weeks than I think my mother has in her entire life. Almost every day we have a shouting match. It's quite liberating really, to shout so loudly," Frederick said, his eyes sparkling with silent laughter.
"And that's a good thing?" Clara said hesitantly. Frederick didn't seem too upset about it.
"Yes. Absolutely, yes. I've been waiting for the opportunity to speak my mind to my father on the subject of many different things, your arrival in my life just gave me the opening." Frederick met her gaze with a smile. "Now, what is your favorite color?"
"I'm rather fond of lavender or a light yellow, though an argument could be made for sky blue, and yours?"
"I'd have to say dark blue. It's a pity that it's not one of Ecrivenia's colors. Red can be so..."
"Flashy?" Clara suggested, relaying her own opinion of the color into her statement.
"That's one word for it," Frederick replied. "What about your hobbies? What do you do for fun?"
This question actually caused Clara to pause. What did she do for fun? She supposed that she didn't mind sewing, but she wasn't overly fond of it. Could one list picking up after a messy stepfamily as a hobby? Then, suddenly, it struck her.
"I rather like gardening," she admitted her face coloring slightly. Gardening was often seen as a peasant's job, as it involved getting down in the dirt. She used to do it all the time, but she hardly got a chance to tend to the gardens properly after the death of her mother. It was one of the things she missed the most. Even just weeding the gardens with her siblings helping her gave her a sense of calm.
How odd it was that she'd nearly forgotten. It was as if in the face of her mother's death and her stepmother's tyranny, she'd forgotten how to be herself.
"Gardening? Hmm, that almost doesn't make me feel as odd about my favorite hobby."
"What is yours? I thought it would be sword-fighting."
"No, definitely, not. That's Leopold's area. I've always secretly liked to cook." Clara's eyes widened at his words.
"To cook?" Frederick let out a bark of a laugh at the sound of the surprise in her voice.
"Yes, to cook. As a young boy, I loved to spend time with the cooks down in the palace kitchens. It was always so different from the going-ons of people upstairs in the court. The cook used to tell me that you can learn everything you need to learn in life by working in a kitchen. She's never been proven wrong. For instance, she taught me the importance of following instructions, that a little improvisation can be a good thing, and most importantly that every little boy should wash his hands before eating."
It was then Clara's turn to laugh. She would have to meet this cook one day. It sounds like she would've gotten along famously with Mrs. Landon. It definitely made her feel better to know that Frederick had someone that sounded like Mrs. Landon in his life. The Queen was lovely, but everyone needs a Mrs. Landon.
"What else do you like? What's your favorite food, or what about your favorite time of day?" Clara suggested. She was actually enjoying coming up with questions to ask back and forth. She had known Frederick before, but one can always be surprised by a person's answer to a trivial question.
"My favorite food is a dessert that consists of iced almond shortbread knots, and my favorite time of day is the morning just before dawn when the sky is gray but the sun is yet to rise."
"Shortbread knots?" Clara had never heard of them. Though by the sounds of it, they would be rather sweet. She had never figured Frederick for being the sort of person that had a sweet tooth. No wonder he and Harriet got along so well, her sister was exactly the same.
"They're very good. I'll have the cook make them some time to go with your tea. Now, what is your favorite food and your favorite time of day?"
"My favorite time of day is morning, but a little after dawn, so that way you can see the sun through the trees."
"And your favorite food?" Clara tapped her fingers against her chin, thinking. She did like regular shortbread cookies, but she was more fond of one of Mrs. Landon's recipes.
"Cucumber soup, but only in Summer. It doesn't taste right in the Winter." Frederick nodded, make a small "hmm" sound. They both fell silent for a moment, and Clara was content. For once the silence was not uncomfortable in any way and Harriet had not yet come back for them and part of her didn't want Harriet to come back. She was enjoying just spending time with Frederick without feeling pressured to do anything or act a certain way.
This was the first time that she had truly just acted like herself in his presence. Every other time she had been self-conscious about how to act and what etiquette to follow, making it hard for her to make conversation with him easily, but now she could see it really wasn't a problem, at least when they were alone.
She snuggled in a little more into her armchair, incredibly comfortable with how the sun shone through the window and how her hand that had been on top of Frederick's was now in his with their fingers threaded together. Though, despite all of this, she did feel a slight nagging to ask him about his conversation with his father.
"Frederick?" He turned his head to look at her, as he too, had been gazing out the window. "What did you and your father talk about after we talked that day?" Frederick's hand reflexively tightened around Clara's and she squeezed his hand back.
"The usual. How I was failing my country by choosing you as a bride, that I didn't know the consequences of my actions by not marrying Sophia, that he had never been so disappointed."
"I'm sorry. That doesn't sound particularly enjoyable."
"It never is, but this time I didn't just lay back and take it. I argued back. I'm sure he had never been so angry, but what can he do? I'm the heir to the throne and he'd rather die than have Adelaide take the throne." Frederick's relaxed face twisted into a scowl. "Sometimes I don't understand him, actually, scratch that, I never understand him, but as I told him, I will no longer take his opinion into consideration when thinking about my personal future. The future of the kingdom, yes I will listen, but my future is my own, and I will no longer allow him to make the decision of who I spend it with."
Frederick turned to her, taking her other hand in his gently. "I know we said we wouldn't decide anything today, and I agree that we shouldn't. We have time, but I do need to know. Is there a possibility that the future I argued about over a day ago with my father will feature you in it and not just temporarily? I don't want either of us to commit to anything if there are any questions as to each other's intentions."
Clara's eyes stared into Frederick's greenish-grey ones, her heart beginning to race. The answer to the question should be simple really, she already knew it in her heart, but it was the reaction she was worried about. She swallowed thickly, biting her lip.
"I- It would be my greatest wish for that proposed future to become a reality... for both of us," she replied quietly, her eyes leaving him to look down at the floor. Her stomach was filled with butterflies, and she was certain that her hands were shaking where they were being held in his.
One of Frederick's hands let go of hers, and Clara's stomach plummeted until the hand tipped her head up so that way she could meet his eyes. The sight she was met with was not what she was expecting. Every other time that Frederick had smiled at her, it had always been more of a small twitch of the lips or as if it were his eyes smiling and not his mouth, and for the first time, he was doing more than that.
His eyes were sparkling in the sunlight that streamed in through the window, and his lips were smiling so widely that it looked like they couldn't stretch any further, but it was the look in his eyes that tripped her up. She knew that look.
The last time she had seen it had been six years ago when she was a thirteen-year-old girl on the eve of her younger brother's birth, but instead of being on the outside of it, watching it take place between a pair of brown eyes and a pair of grey like her own, she was on the receiving end.
It was with that look that she knew. She knew now, that her absent-minded wish on that same night had come true, she had found a love like her parents', she knew it in her heart.
"That would be my wish as well," Frederick said quietly, and oddly Clara understood why he did not speak louder. This wasn't the time for loud words and passionate statements. Ever so gently he helped her stand to her feet, keeping her close to him, yet never once looking away.
"I think I'm going to take Harriet up on her advice," Frederick whispered, his face barely an inch away from hers while one of his hands cradled her head. Clara could hardly think straight, and she was having trouble remembering Harriet's words.
"What advice was that?"
"I believe her exact words were to hurry up and kiss already," Frederick responded, eyeing her carefully for her own response.
"I think it would be best if we listened to her," she finally said back. The words had barely left her mouth when suddenly his lips were slanted over hers and her eyes fluttered shut as she gave into the feeling of his mouth on hers.
It was like time had stopped for a single moment, as if everything else in the world paused and that Clara and Frederick were the only two people breathing. The butterflies in her stomach had grown into energetic hummingbirds, and she was about to bring a hand up to rest in his hair, when without warning the door to the tower burst open, causing Clara and Frederick to break apart.
Standing there was a spluttering Mark, a blushing Amelia, a smiling Adelaide, a pouting James, a smirking Leopold, and a very smug looking Harriet.
"Looks like you will be inviting Sophia to a wedding," Harriet said with a grin. Clara and Frederick exchanged a glance.
"It looks like we will."
And so it came to pass that two years later, on a beautiful spring day, they would.
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So how was that? Did you expect it to end this way? What did you think of their conversation? Tell me your thoughts in the comments!
The song is "Marriage Proposal" by Ilan Eshkeri from the movie, The Young Victoria.