Maria Clara Meaning Novels & Stories

“I’m saying you should pick your battles. And not just with him. There are men here who’d carve your name into a coffin if they thought it might win them favor. I’ve seen it before.” “Seen what before?” Clara swallowed. “There was a girl before you. Few months back. Pretty. Smart. Tried to outwit Dante in front of the council. Thought she could earn her way out by being clever. She disappeared one night. No one spoke her name again.” Emilia’s stomach twisted. “I’m not saying it was him,” Clara whispered. “But no one defies him twice. Not without paying for it.” Before Emilia could ask more, Mara’s voice echoed down the hallway.

A keeper of a single, lost pearl from a pair that will never be whole for me again. Clara’s genius isn’t in creating drama. It’s in this. It’s in the quiet, graceful, merciful fading away. She is not forcing Maya into the arms of a monster; she is guiding her toward a good man, making my love look like the shadowy, complicated, destructive thing it has become. She is making my own heart the villain.

One morning, as I descended the stairs for breakfast, I heard madam Maria wailing from the kitchen. Rushing there, I saw her sitting on a stool, crying. Huddled around her were some of the other domestic staff, looking equally distressed. “What’s the matter?” I asked, panicked. “Is your husband okay? Or your child?” “it's not that,” answered Fidelia, the junior cook that had just been hired. “It’s Clara, the minister…” her voice trailed off in her confusion about how to explain the identity of my husband’s mistress. “Clara is dead!” madam Maria wailed. “She is all her mother has! That girl is all the woman has!”

“Elara is chosen by the Moon Goddess. We must not question what the goddess has done.” Clara’s smile faded for a second, but she quickly fixed it back. “Chosen? Do you really believe that? She is nothing but a servant girl. Weak. Useless. The Moon Goddess cannot make such a mistake. The bond between her and Alpha Damien… it will destroy us all.” Markus leaned back in his chair. He tapped his cane on the floor. “And yet she still stands. Many wanted her gone already, but she survived poison, fights, and even the beasts. Do you not find that strange, Clara?”

Maria greeted but was shoved aside when I passed her. "Where's CLARA?!" I screamed. "The Luna? I don't know she left-" I cut in. "You don't WHAT?!" I left her looking stunned and confused, I ran justice the house screaming her name but nothing, I went back to her room, but she wasn't there even Olivia. "Where's Clara?!" I asked the guard who stood outside her door. "The Luna? She left with her handmaiden." "To where?" "I don't know Alpha," He bowed. "I'm sorry."

"I believe she is his wife. Her name is written with spaced numbers representing letters like I wrote on that piece of paper I showed you." "I don't understand," Maria confessed. "Take a look at the numbers I wrote down." Maria quickly grabbed the piece of paper she had failed to understand. She stared at it. 5 12 9 26 1 2 5 20 8 "What does it mean?" She asked. "I believe it means the name of a woman. Elizabeth." "How?" Clark sighed and took the piece of paper from Maria. He pointed at the numbers when he was sure that he had gotten Maria's attention.

"Calm down, Clara. You have me, I will teach you how to go about it. So don't worry." Clara walked out of the office and sat down at her desk, her mind was wandering about and she could think of nothing else but her failure. In a short period of time, she had come to know who Philip's mother was. Maria was a woman with a seared conscience and a devilish mind. Philip walked out of his studio to get to take a scroll and get some fresh air, his hands were wearied and his inspiration had come to a blank page leaving him empty. Seeing the world outside him would help give him some insight on how to complete his work.