Earning the Love of a Princess-Chapter 301: Violet: No Other Way But Forward

2 November, 1348. Thierre Manor, Duchy of Orravalo, Islia

Violet sat on her bed and looked, unseeing, at a thin, jagged crack in the stone wall. Sancia sat on her own bed nearby, staring at her elder sister. Violet could see her opening and closing her mouth repeatedly as if she wanted to speak but kept losing her nerve.

Violet couldn’t care less. She didn’t care if no one ever said a word to her again. She wanted to drown in her own silence.

Ilse had never opened her eyes or spoken again since the first day she’d fallen ill. She’d lingered in a fever for days and had only breathed her last four days ago, during a sunrise of rare beauty.

Her body had been buried quickly to avoid the risk of further disease.

Violet had watched as her sister, wrapped tightly in layers upon layers of bleached linen, was lowered into a hastily dug hole. There had been no time or money for a coffin.

Ilse had been laid to rest in a pretty garden a little way east of the manor house. She was buried next to the cross marking the burial site of the baby son her parents had lost so many years ago.

The same priest who’d administered the last rites to Ilse, had been summoned back to sprinkle holy water on the dirt and call out prayers for the repose of her soul.

That morning, Violet had listened to the man’s solemn chanting, her frame trembling with soundless sobs. She’d felt as helplessly trapped and mute as her sister must have been during her last days.

It had been a fight for her to be at the burial at all. Lady Thierre had at first tried to insist she remain in her bedchamber, far away from more exposure to illness. At that, Violet had truly lost what little composure she had left.

What did it matter, when she’d lain on the bed next to her sister for days and had held her hand until the very end? Violet was convinced Lady Thierre was simply trying to be cruel.

She remembered how hysterically she’d screamed at her mother that morning. She’d accused her of treating her as only a vessel, as a host for royal seed and not as a person in her own right. Violet had even threatened to starve herself or drown herself in the Marhyr River if she wasn’t allowed to say a proper goodbye to her twin.

Her parents had finally relented. Not for her sake of course, but because Lady Thierre was worried Violet’s wild outburst might harm the child in her belly.

But as she’d watched Roderick dump shovelful after shovelful of dirt on the body, Violet had regretted insisting being at the burial. It had felt as if she, not Ilse, was the one being slowly swallowed up by the earth. The drone of the priest’s prayers had merged with the sound of her own ragged breathing.

All she’d wanted to do was run from the hellish sight.

When the priest had finally gone quiet, Lady Thierre had grabbed Violet by the elbow and marched her back into the house.

"You’re to return to your chamber now. Your child needs rest." Lady Thierre had said grimly.

Violet had put up no resistance. There was nothing left to fight.

Now, she sat in her bedchamber, silent in her grief. The same questions echoed in her mind without respite.

Had Ilse heard her before she’d died? And if she had, had Ilse forgiven her? Or had she held on to her anger until the bitter end?

And why had her sister insisted on stopping at that ramshackle tavern where she likely ate the food that made her ill?

"Don’t you want any dinner from the dining hall?" she heard Sancia ask.

Violet shook her head. How could she possibly explain to Sancia - or to anyone - that she’d started growing fearful of leaving the bedchamber?

Because everywhere she went inside the familiar old house, Ilse’s presence was somehow there.

She could feel it. Ilse’s spirit seemed to hover within every nook and cranny.

Violet would glance at an object and suddenly, a flicker of Ilse’s golden hair would catch the corner of her eye. She’d walk down a corridor and swear she could see the edge of Ilse’s skirts rounding the corner and disappearing from view. It was as if her twin was only just ahead and if Violet hurried a little more, she’d catch up with her.

But of course, she never could.

Even at night, she’d swear she could feel her sister’s weight next to her on the bed. More than once she’d patted the mattress, shocked to find it cold and empty. The thought of being watched by an angry, vengeful presence was terrifying.

Violet realised she had to find a way to escape Thierre Manor and Orravalo. She feared she’d lose her mind if she didn’t.

Maybe she already had.

- - -

"Violet."

She turned around listlessly at the sound of her mother’s voice in the bedchamber.

Lady Thierre was staring at her with an impatient frown. "The maids say you barely leave this room. This behaviour has to stop. You can’t shut yourself away and spend your days pining."

It had been four days since Ilse’s burial. Was she expected to have returned to normal already?

"You told me to rest, didn’t you?" Violet mumbled. "Surely now I’m resting enough for your liking, Mother."

Lady Thierre gave her a chilly look. "Well, you must start packing. We’re setting off for Westerhaven Palace in two days."

Sancia sprung up to a sitting position on her bed. "We’re going to court?" Her voice was breathy with delight.

"Not you. Your father and I are going with your sister only."

"Mother! Why can’t I go too?" Sancia shrilled. "I never get to go anywhere or see anything fun! I promise I won’t cause any trouble."

"The king wishes to see you, Violet." Lady Thierre held up a letter in her hand. "Your father wrote His Majesty a letter and shared your happy news. He spent a pretty ducat paying for a messenger to get the letter to the king without delay."

"What happy news? Why does the king want to see Violet?" Sancia started howling. "It isn’t fair!"

Both women ignored her. Violet gave her mother a dark look. "It’s nice to know that Father and you aren’t wasting any time. Even death can’t get in the way of opportunities, isn’t that right?"

There wasn’t a trace of shame on Lady Thierre’s face. "We cannot change what has already happened, Violet. We can only look forward. There’s no other way than to focus on your...on our future."

In that moment, as she looked at her mother’s severe expression, Violet made a promise to herself. One she’d do her damndest to keep.

She’d pack, put on her best gown and go to court as her parents wanted. Quietly, submissively and without a word of protest.

And the very moment they arrived, she was going to throw herself at the king’s mercy. She was going to do whatever it took to be allowed to stay at the palace and be set free from Orravalo for good.

It didn’t matter if Leo wanted nothing to do with her or her child. She’d still beg to stay.

She didn’t care if she was demoted to the lowliest of Queen Celia’s ladies or even worse, to a chambermaid. She’d still beg to stay.

Hell, they could order her to work as a kitchen wench or to empty the chamber pots, and she’d do it. Even if she was the humblest servant in the palace, it would still be preferable to spending the rest of her days in the suffocating grief of her childhood home.

"Very well then, Mother. I suppose I’d better start packing, hadn’t I?"

Lady Thierre pinched her eyes into slits and stared at Violet, as if disbelieving. She’d clearly been expecting at least some resistance.

She wouldn’t get any.

Watching her mother leave the bedchamber, Violet stood up. She ran through her gowns in her head and wondered which she should pack for the journey.

"Are you going to court to meet that man again? The one you stole from Ilse?"

At hearing those words, Violet felt her soul leave her body for a moment. She whirled slowly to face Sancia. "What did you say to me?"

The young girl met her stare, eyes full of challenge. "I heard Ilse say that to you the first afternoon you came home, when you were downstairs with Mother and Father. And I heard her cry herself to sleep that night. Why would you steal from your own twin?"

Violet nearly doubled over from the pain in her heart from Sancia’s words, but she refused to give the girl the satisfaction. "Shut up! You know nothing about what happened, so shut your mouth."

"I know any man who would choose you over Ilse must be crazy." Sancia retorted. "Ilse was kind and pretty. All you know how to do is hurt people. You broke your own sister’s heart. What kind of man wants that?"

Violet could only shake her head and reply venomously. "If you think so poorly of me, then cross your fingers that everything goes to plan at court. With any luck it’ll mean I’ll never have to spend another day of my life here."

Sancia’s eyes went round with curiosity.

"And I’ll never have to see any of you or this despicable hovel again."