Preoccupied With Thoughts.

As soon as Mr. Huxley's eyes met Clara's, his expression darkened with anger. He couldn't forget the stress he had to go through when he had to intervene after hearing about the discord between Clara and Larisa at Marcellus's wedding. He had to order his guards to confine Clara until after the ceremony, which was a difficult decision for him to make.

Despite his anger, Mr. Huxley remained composed and approached Clara with a stern expression. "What are you doing here?" he demanded.

Clara's heart pounded as she stood before Mr. Huxley, the man who had always been cold and disapproving towards her. "I came here to see Marcellus," she stammered, her voice barely above a whisper. "I wanted to see how he's doing."

Mr. Huxley looked at her with a stern expression. "Have you seen him now?" he asked.

Clara nodded, her eyes flickering with fear and uncertainty. "Yes, I have. He's still unconscious."

"Then it's time for you to leave," Mr. Huxley said firmly.

Clara felt a lump form in her throat