Clare
Alexa turned her gaze back to Clare, who was certain that the Elvan woman's face was pulled into a frown, “I really don’t know what he sees in you.” She took in Clare’s appearance as though she was taking in an unappealing view, “You’re not even blonde, you are barely mature.”
Clare’s stomach felt assaulted as the pain grew to new heights, she felt a bead of sweat trickle her temple, as she bit down the urge to weep, “I don’t know who the hell you are talking about.” She gritted out, through clenched teeth, “and frankly I don’t care.”
Clare marched away from Alexa, her hand stuck on her stomach and limped her way toward the crowd. The pain began to numb in the core of her stomach.