Chapter Fifteen:

Glass Slippers

---------

The coach rounded the last turn and Clara could see the lights of the palace ahead of them. She couldn't contain a gasp as she unashamedly gawked at the home of the royal family. It was grand in every meaning of the word, both large and impressive. Golden spires seemed to split the sky in two, while extensive gardens covered every inch of the grounds that sprawled out around the white-walled palace.

The statues of angels and women with instruments seemed to watch as the coach started to slow down, and Clara's stomach began to do flips in anticipation. What if she fell down the stairs, or stepped on someone's toes? What if she made an utter fool of herself?

The coach came to a complete stop, and one of the coachmen had opened the door, but Clara still sat there paralyzed. Taking a shuddering breath, she put her one of her feet out of the coach and onto the ground. Stepping out of the coach she was about to say something, perhaps a thank you, when the coachman hopped back onto his perch and gave a flick of the reins, leaving her standing alone at the foot of the palace stairs.

So much for a team effort, Clara thought to herself, before starting to make her way up the many steps to the palace.

After what had seemed like an endless journey, she finally reached the top and the doormen opened the doors for her. Walking into the palace, Clara felt she was in some sort of beautiful daydream. Every wall was adorned with what were probably expensive paintings and every nook and cranny held statues or figurines.

She didn't want to think about how just one painting would probably be enough to pay for a physician for James as well as a new house, a carriage, and several weeks worth of food.

Moving past it all, she reached the doors to what she assumed was the ballroom. The strains of music filtered through the doors and she gulped before nodding to the doormen to open the doors for her.

Her heart was in her mouth as she shakily walked into the ballroom at the top of the stairs leading to the dancefloor.

She had figured a few eyes would be on her, but she hadn't counted on the entire ballroom full of people turning to look at her, even the dancing couples, as the music stumbled to a stop. She stilled, trying to not to let her fear turn her into stone or a fumbling mess.

She gazed out at the crowd of people as she began to descend the stairs. However, as she made her way further down the stairs, it seemed that the initial shock had worn off and every couple was back to dancing as the music began again. She still had a few eyes on her, but not nearly as many as before.

Once she had reached the foot of the stairs, she turned her head, sweeping her gaze across the room. What was she supposed to do? She moved awkwardly towards one of the edges of the room, avoiding the eyes of everyone she passed. Why did she think she could do this? She could barely converse at the dinner party two years ago, how was she supposed to be able to handle a whole ballroom of people?

She was just rounding one of the pillars when she ran into someone else, jumping back with a gasp as the other person gave a gasp of pain. Standing back, Clara saw that the person she had run into was a light-brown haired man who was currently leaning against the pillar, holding one of his feet in both hands as a curly haired behind him tried to contain his laughter.

"I am so sorry! I wasn't paying attention to where I was going!" She said hurriedly, not knowing what to do. Should she offer to get him some ice? However, his friend beat her to it.

"Do not worry, my Lady, he's fine, he is only being a little overdramatic. Hold on, I'll get him some ice to soothe his ego," the man said chuckling as he moved away from Clara and the hunched-over man. The man looked up to meet her eye, his eyebrows drawn together.

"What are you wearing? Rocks on your feet?"

No." Clara blushed. "Glass slippers."

"Glass slippers?" The man asked incredulously. "Were they really necessary? Couldn't you have just gone with some of the nice silk slippers that most women wear?"

"They go with anything," Clara answered still blushing, "they were a gift from a friend, I thought it would be a good occasion to wear them." The man stood up straighter, letting his foot finally fall to the ground again. Once he was standing, Clara did her best not to react.

He was handsome, very handsome. His eyes were a green that reminded her of moss, while his light-brown hair was swept back from his face. He was much taller than she was, and unlike most of the men there, he didn't cut an imposing figure that made Clara want to shy away. In fact, it was rather the contrary, even if he was looking at her questioningly.

"All in the name of fashion I suppose."

"No," Clara said. "I know nearly nothing on the subject. Trust me, this is a rare occurrence as I don't often have the occasion to dress up." Clara cut herself off before she could say more. Had she said too much? "I am still sorry for your foot, though."

The man waved away her apology, "It's fine. It is not so bad now that the pain has passed."

"Regardless," Clara said, "Is there anything I can do to make it up to you?" She offered, feeling terribly guilty. She had only been there for ten minutes and already she had injured someone. The man seemed to think about it, his eyes watching her thoughtfully.

"I can think of only one option," he said, and Clara held her breath, waiting. "Would you do me the honor of a dance?"

Clara blinked in surprise. A dance? That was all? "Only a dance?"

"Only a dance," he said with a smile, his green eyes sparkling playfully.

He held out his hand for her to take and as she hesitantly brought her fingers to his, she felt a shock go through her, sending a tingle of warmth up her arm causing her to become slightly flustered. If this was only what it was like touching his hand, she dreaded having to actually dance with him.

However, she didn't have time to dwell on it as suddenly she found that she and her partner were joining the couples already dancing. For a moment she had no idea what to do, but as the man gently placed one arm around her waist and kept his hand clasped in hers, she did her best to follow along.

At first, it was a difficult endeavor. Between trying not to step on his toes or make a wrong move and trying to not get distracted by his gaze on her, Clara was hard-pressed to dance the waltz correctly. She was starting to get the hang of it when he cleared his throat, causing her eyes to snap to his.

"You know, normally it is much more enjoyable if you keep your eyes on your partner and not your feet," he said, causing Clara to blush for what felt like the millionth time that night.

"I did not want to misstep and cause you more harm," she responded honestly.

"Do not worry about that, I can live through a little bit of a toe-bruising," the man said, his lips curled into a small smile. "I don't believe I have ever seen you before. Do you often come to court?"

"No, I do not," Clara said, shaking her head. "To be fair though, neither have I seen you. What is your name?" He paused.

"Augustus, but most people call me Gus," he said, and Clara nodded. "What about you? What is your name?"

"Clara," she said, deciding not to lie. What harm could a name do, after all? "I am still truly sorry about your toes," she said sheepishly. "Trust me to bludgeon someone's feet the moment I step into the ballroom." Gus chuckled.

"If I recall correctly, that's not entirely true. The moment you stepped into the ballroom you were at the top of the stairs, avoiding the amazed eyes of every wealthy and influential person in the kingdom."

"Would you of not done the same? It is incredibly nerve-wracking to be watched as if you are on a high wire and they are just waiting for you to fall," Clara said, and Gus's eyes shone with amusement and understanding.

"Indeed, I would have. I have never been fond of having all eyes on me, it's one of the reasons why I-" he paused. "Why I tried to find a back entrance to the ballroom instead of down the main stairs, I wanted to avoid all of that."

Clara had a distinct feeling that he wasn't telling her the complete truth, but who was she to judge? She wasn't a lady, she hadn't been for a while, and yet here she was, dressed up in a gown fit for a princess. She couldn't begrudge him his privacy when she so desperately tried to maintain hers.

Clara was pulled back to her thoughts when the final strains of the song drifted to an end and everyone turned to applaud the musicians. Clara looked over to Gus expecting to see him looking elsewhere, probably for his next dance partner, but instead, he was looking at her.

Her heart skipped a beat as she met his gaze. He smiled lightly at her, not taking his eyes off of hers as he reached out to once again take her hand.

"I thought you said only one dance?"

"You did bludgeon my toes, as you said. I think my terms need to be adjusted to five dances," he said, moving them into the first position of the next dance. Clara smiled her own small smile as they began to move once again.

Song after song they danced together, going far past the amount of the stated five dances. As the night wore on Clara felt herself getting more tired, but at the same time more relaxed. Unlike during the first dance, she was able to focus on the feeling of conversing with someone incredible agreeable while spinning around in a dress like an angel's.

By the time the clock read two forty-five she was barely able to stop from stepping on his feet and she had to try to contain her yawns. Gus kept on throwing her concerned looks until finally, he led her from the dance floor, his hand tucking hers into the crook of his arm.

"Forgive me, it seems I have exhausted you."

"Don't worry about it," Clara said, trying to hold back yet another yawn. "I had a lot of work to do before I came so I got hardly any sleep last night, it was only a matter of time really."

"Really? What kind of work were you doing?" Clara stiffened where she stood, not knowing how to respond honestly.

"Just a handful of things that needed to be done for the upcoming balls," she answered, trying to be as honest as possible.

"So you will be coming to the next three nights?" He sounded relieved.

"Yes." She glanced over at the large clock on one of the mantel places and tried to contain her gasp. She had to leave! It was almost seven minutes to three! "Forgive me, but I must be going," she said, pulling her hand away from him and starting to make her way towards the stairs.

"Wait, let me escort you to your carriage!" Gus said, taking her hand once again and beginning to lead her back to the front steps of the palace. "I hope you know how much I enjoyed your company tonight," he said, his breath near her ear causing a lock of Clara's hair to flutter.

"I enjoyed myself as well," Clara stated. They walked in silence until they reached the bottom of the palace steps where her coach was waiting for her.

"A glass carriage to match your slippers?" Gus commented, sounding amused. Clara nodded, her cheeks coloring to a light pink. "I thought as much."

Smiling at her softly, Gus handed her into the carriage, his hand holding one of hers gently as if her hand was made of glass as well. He quietly closed the door behind her, but he didn't step back immediately. Instead, he rested his hand on the inside of the carriage and Clara, unthinkingly rested her hand on top of his.

"I cannot wait for tomorrow night, or rather I suppose it's tonight, now," he said, bringing her hand into both of his. "I hope I am not too forward in asking if you will save me a dance?" Clara laughed in answer.

"Are you sure you do not mean several? If I recall that was your promise tonight as well."

"It was, wasn't it? What if we just agree that at tonight's ball you will dance with me and only me?" Clara paused before nodding.

"That could be arranged," she said, feeling breathless at his look of pure joy. His lips curved into a large smile and he raised her hand to them, kissing her knuckles.

"Then I look forward to it Lady Clara," he said, before stepping away from the carriage and signaling the coachmen to move.

Clara watched him until he became just a tiny dot compared to the magnificent castle, her stomach feeling like it was full of fluttering butterflies. Her plan was working, somehow it was working, and it was working far better than she had dared to hope.

If she wasn't careful, it would not be him falling for her, but her falling for him. Leaning back in the carriage she stifled a yawn, and as her mind wandered a sudden thought struck her. What if he found out her plan and wouldn't help her?

-------

So how's that for the first ball? Who do you think "Gus" is? Do you think he would help her if he knew of her predicament? Tell me in the comments!