Chapter Thirty-Two: Clyde

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Ash twiddled his fingers as my parents' staff circled the dining table to serve tea. I had my arms around Fleur, a dear baby cousin, who sat in my lap. She still hadn't warmed up to Ash yet. After all, they haven't even spent longer than a few hours together thus far. He made another attempt to approach her, this time armed with a cookie. He held it out to her, but she promptly turned away and buried her face in my shoulder.

"Fleur." He pouted, "Why don't you like me?"

She quickly turned to face him again and turned away, hiding her sheepish smile.

He sighed, "I suppose every Fiennes girl is difficult to woo."

My father spoke up, "Oh you're spot on about that, son." He then lowered his voice, "But word of advice, don't say things like that around your mother-in-law."

"What things?" My mother entered the room, followed by a familiar face.

A smile decorated my face as I recognized him, "Clyde!"

He returned my smile as he knelt in front of me, "Your majesty." He took my right hand and placed a polite kiss on it.

"Clyde, please continue calling me Evelyn. There's no need for formalities between us."

"Even in the past, I called you Lady Evelyn. I'm in no position to discard titles, it's just that yours changed so quickly!"

I nodded. The last time I had seen him, I was just Evelyn. Well, Lady Evelyn, for the sake of being particular.

"Cwyde! Cwyde!" Fleur exclaimed, reaching out for him.

He laughed and took Fleur into his arms. I could already sense the jealousy radiating from Ash. He cleared his throat, prompting Clyde to place Fleur on the ground. Instead, he greeted Ash in a similar fashion by kneeling on the floor.

"How may I address you as?" Ash asked.

"Clyde, Your Majesty, I don't possess a title."

He nodded, "I see."

I could sense the contempt on his face.

I turned to Clyde, "How is your mother doing?"

His mouth twitched at the mention of his mother. She had been our family's seamstress ever since my grandparents' generation. She was sweet, plump old lady, and so reminiscent of my late grandmother.

My father interjected, "Mrs. Wicker passed away from pneumonia a few weeks after you moved into the castle, Evelyn."

"She had spoken of you a few days before she passed, but I couldn't reach you." Clyde added in a stiff tone.

My heart dropped. I hadn't realized how detached I became from my old life after marrying Ash. I watched as my warm tears splashed at my feet. My vision blurred and I could feel Ash's hand rest on my lower back. After noticing the scene, my father requested the crowd to excuse themselves.

Clyde gave me a remorseful look, "There's something I need to show you this evening, once the living arrangements are prepared."

I gave him a firm nod. We sought permission to conduct our immersion experience in his home. His family had long been in service to mine, so our bond was entrenched in trust.

Soon, it was just Ash and I. He shushed my quiet sobs as his hand brushed my hair. After I had calmed down, he broke the silence.

"Who is Mrs. Wicker?"

"She was our seamstress. She was with my family since before I was born. In fact, she made my dresses for every single important event... up until our wedding."

"Oh Evelyn." He murmured as my voice broke into sobs again, "I'm sorry you couldn't send her off."

Guilt washed over me as I thought back to the first few weeks of marriage. They were unproductive, even petty. What could have possibly kept me from knowing of her passing?

My own ignorance.

After purging my grief, Ash force fed me a few spoonfuls of soup at my mother's insistence. He gave up after tirelessly trying my stubborn reluctance. I sensed that he wanted to change the topic to a lighter one, but couldn't approach any.

He finally made up his mind, "So who exactly is Clyde? You two seem to be rather close, I mean other than him being Mrs. Wicker's son."

"He was our stableboy. He's the one who taught me horseback riding, actually. Now he has his own stables and loans horses out to others."

He clicked his tongue, "So that's why you were always better than the rest of us in that class, you had your own private tutor."

"Clyde does have a natural talent with equestrian sport, but I'd say that the royal trainer provided more of a formal experience. Clyde's lessons were very informal, but there was more compassion in them."

His eyebrows shot up and his jaw tightened, "Compassion?"

I nodded, "Well, you do know teaching horseback riding involves close contact with the instructor..."

I watched as his hand tightened around the spoon. I failed to suppress my giggle.

"I jest. He was compassionate about the horses, obviously. He treated them like pets rather than entities. I was always Lady Evelyn to him, never once has he ever dropped titles."

He relaxed and rolled his eyes at me, "You enjoy testing me."

I smiled. 

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