"Good morning, uncle," Clara replied, lifting her red dress and bowing slightly, doing a light curtsy towards him. As much as she despised him, she still had to the polite to him. It was just how she was raised. Those lady mannerisms were drilled into her from a young age.

However, she could make it so she never smiled when she greeted him, and that her voice would be cold and emotionless.

She took the seat as instructed, and took the near piece of bread before lathering it with her own favorite type of jam, which was strawberry. She then used the fork and knife provided to cut the bread before putting a small piece inside her mouth. She then brought the warm cup of tea and brought it close to her mouth also, only taking a small sip from it.

That was how a lady was supposed to eat. Just small, bite-sized pieces. With how tight their corsets could be, a bulging stomach would cause a big discomfort to them. Not to mention that they were supposed to remain talkative at the dinner table, spending more time conversing with others over actually eating and drinking. It was how it was done in the tea parties she attended as well. That's why they could last for hours at times until the tea and cakes all disappeared.

"Indeed I had," she answered him once her mouth was empty. It was bad manners to talk when you're still munching your food.

And then, she heard it. The news that the new Earl was looking for a wife.

She immediately could tell where the conversation was going. She kept her calm, not showing a single reaction on her face. Her expression remained calm and neutral as always.

"I see," she replied. "I assume the woman you are referring to would be me."

She took another sip of her tea before continuing.

"Fine. I shall be willing to meet him," she answered, as calm and composed as ever.

She had known perfectly well that there was a high chance her uncle would use her as a bargaining chip sooner or later. With his reputation being in such a critical state, it would make sense for him to want to regain the trust of the crown back. Just using his wealth would not be enough. But offering his niece as a marriage candidate to the new Earl who had just saved the King's life, if he were to accept her, it would practically mean the Earl would be allied with him, strengthening his position and allowing him to silence all those naysayers in the capital that was against her. His position would be secure once again.

And oddly enough, she was feeling somewhat glad for that.

If there was no necessity for him to offer her up for marriage, she had a feeling he would end up taking her for himself instead. Eventually, his false politeness would disappear and he would force her into that position, whether she was willing or not.

And with how disgusting she felt of him, she would rather be married off to some other nobleman than him.

[i]The newly knighted Earl, huh? I believe he was previously a peasant, and that he was still a young man. At the very least, I wouldn't have to marry an old man...[/i]

[i]But still, I would rather keep my virtue over giving it to some rude, uncouth former peasant. I'm sure one wife would never be enough for him. He would have many, and I would merely be his first.[/i]

[i]Heh, he might already have some whore on his bed right now.[/i]

[i]Well, it's not like your typical lords are any different. At the very least, he's still young. I just hope he has that good youthful looks so that I wouldn't want to puke when he ravages my body.[/i]

She had always been a realist and a pessimist. Well, perhaps not always. She remembered her being a much brighter, happier person when she was still a youngling and her parents were still alive. But now, she had accepted the fact that the chance of her earning the freedom she always yearned was very little, and that she would be far more likely to end up with a man that she would never like.

"I assume we would go today?" she asked her uncle. "I believe I am already ready. This dress would be good enough, no?"

She didn't want to bother going all-out in her makeup just to meet the man that would take away her freedom. Hours sitting on the dressing chair with her maids tending to her were never pleasurable to her.