Chapter Text
Sunlight shone through tall, arched windows. Moats of dust swirled in the light. Grinning from ear to ear, a young servant girl with short, blonde, bobbed hair raced along the red-carpet floors, slippers gliding, scarcely touching the ground. She bit her lip, but laughter still escaped through her teeth. She paused at every corner, carefully peeking around into the next hallway before proceeding. The long, dark cape of her cloak billowed as she ran. In her hands, she clutched a bouquet of flowers. Even better, they were stolen from the Queen's private, personal gardens!
Such an act was madness, poking the sleeping bear, practically begging to spend a night—or easily more, knowing her foul temper—in the castle dungeons. And Montiscor, as its name would suggest, was a hearty place. The weak would not fare well within the stony stomach of the mountain-kingdom. But Catherine, the cheeky little devil, was unafraid.
It's a good thing I'm strong! And I'm just as clever as I am strong, and just as brave as I am clever! She was an unusually confident, precocious child. In her dreams, she was the queen. Though she was born of no royal blood of her own, if anyone asked her, she would've considered herself more than qualified to learn.
Or, well… Her breathless and excited smile became mischievous. I'd gladly been the future queen's consort! A few hallways later, she reached the princess' bedchambers. Without hesitation, she knocked on the old, heavy, wooden door, using a specific pattern that let the princess know immediately who was knocking on her door.
"Come in!" came the soft, high, sweet voice, and for just a second, Catherine's expression softened. But a moment later, the childishly playful smile returned as she shoved the door open, the hinges creaking while the wood at the bottom of the door grazed the stone floor. "Catherine!" The princess turned away from her vanity, face lighting up.
What a relief! I'm glad it wasn't either of the butlers… She chewed her lip guiltily. Oh, no, I shouldn't think that. Howard and Stewart are lovely dears! It's only thanks to them that I am able to get done half of the things I need to on any given day! For just a moment, worry creased her brow. The adage was painfully cliché, but it held a seed of truth, explaining why it endured. Heavy hung the head that wore the crown. It went beyond personal insecurity, though. Something ever nagged at the back of the princess' mind. A voice that told her she wasn't supposed to be the princess, but it wasn't just the voice of self-doubt…
Clara would never take for granted the opportunities the circumstances of her birth provided, but the duties felt equally numerous.
Running a castle is tough work! And I'm not even doing it alone yet! Not that she would ever be alone, but she was still just the princess, with plenty of handlers and servants at her every beck and call. Even if that wouldn't change whenever she finally became queen, she would find herself facing even greater responsibility than now. The mere thought made her want to crawl back into bed and never leave the warm comfort and safety of the sheets ever again. But that cheeky and devilish voice and smile in the doorway…
"Milady!" Catherine gave a melodramatic bow, one hand presenting the bouquet of stolen flowers while the other flourished her cape behind her. Clara couldn't help but laugh, though she had the grace and mind to cover her mouth as she did so. She works too hard, and worries too much! Yeah, I know she's got a lot she needs to get right, but she's the future queen! Jeez! Shouldn't she be able to do what she wants every now and then? Perhaps it was projection on Catherine's part. If she truly dreamt of being the future queen's consort, of course she would want both of them to get to enjoy their royal power, not end up as slaves to royal duty.
Perhaps it was also part of living under the queen's iron fist. Too many times had the inner court—servant and royal alike—seen her fiery temper, and how much she got away with, and how little she ever apologized for anything. If she could do that, why did Clara hold herself to some invisible standard of being so much better?
I mean yeah sure, it's good she's not EXACTLY like her mom, but jeez, she's way too hard on herself! Perhaps it was the emotional distance a servant could hold from the crown, but Catherine thought it was all rather silly. All Clara had to do was wait until she was the right age. For now, she was just killing time. Maybe it was a good thing that Catherine wasn't the one in line for the throne.
"Some color, to brighten up the room!" she continued, still holding out the bouquet and bowing as she approached the princess. Clara was still unable to completely mask a smirk, but she took the flowers graciously and gratefully. As proud citizens of Montiscor, they understood that beauty lay even in the dull and dim colors of the mountain, gray and blue hues that tapered into black and white, but sometimes a splash of something brighter was a refreshing change of pace.
"Where did you get them, anyway?" asked the princess conversationally as she inhaled their sweet scent. When Catherine didn't answer, Clara's eyes darted up to read her face, and instantly, her expression became tired. "No. You didn't. Did you…?" Catherine still didn't respond, but she raised her chin, grinning from ear to ear. Clara sighed and shook her head. "Catherine!"
"You won't report me, milady, will you?" Catherine answered back, smile unreadable. I would forgive her if she did. Poor thing has always been more of a goody-two-shoes! Besides, I've caused trouble before, I can handle what comes after!
"No," Clara was quick to answer, even shaking her head at the mere thought, but a second later, she looked conflicted again.
Catherine's face softened once more. "I'm sorry, Clara." She knew the princess preferred her name when it was optional to discard her title. "I just wanted to do something to cheer you up. I know how hard your mom's been pushing you." That's why I thought stealing from her would be an even more impactful gesture. Don't lose sight of the future, Clara! Someday you'll be able to step out of her shadow! Little girls, big crowns!
"And so you thought stealing from her would help?" Clara asked at the same time, but there was a note of amusement in her tone as she quirked an eyebrow. Rather than waiting for an answer, she shook her head and sighed as she set the flowers down. "Thank you, Catherine. I appreciate you thinking of me, but there are other ways to make me happy." Ways that don't involve you risking yourself.
"Oh?" Catherine raised her eyebrows suggestively, and a second later, Clara's pale cheeks turned red. It was one of the many things she didn't like about herself. She already found it difficult to conceal her emotions, let alone with such a pale complexion betraying her. But although she might've felt mortified, her most loyal and faithful servant only smiled.
Well would you look at that? She was right! I DID make her smile! Then she leaned forward and quickly kissed the other girl on the cheek, and it was all Clara could do not to squeal as her face became even redder still. How was that for color to brighten up the room?