Mated to the Mad Lord-Chapter 45: Purple eyes

"He won’t come back next week. They never do!" the young man beside Violet suddenly remarked. "Next lecture, we’ll probably get a session on defense or another doom speech about how we’ll all die the second we meet a hostile Red or one of those shifters you’re supposed to kill on sight!"

Violet barely registered his words, her thoughts spinning far from the lecture hall. She turned her head toward him, her brow furrowed in confusion.

"What?"

"I said, for all we know, the next lecture could be a gun-firing range," he repeated, his green eyes brightening with a mischievous glint. "Maybe we’ll have a weapons specialist teaching us how to fight!"

Violet’s gaze lingered on him, taking in his gentle features and disarming smile. For a moment, she forgot herself. "...And why would we even need to learn to use guns?"

"In case a district war breaks out and this mansion gets attacked," he replied with a casual shrug, as though such a scenario was common knowledge. "Why else would they pay us such an outrageous amount every week?"

Violet fell silent, her eyes narrowing slightly as she studied him. Most of the other servants had left, but he’d chosen to stay—and sit beside her, no less. She didn’t understand why.

"You do know I’m an outcast, right?" she asked, her tone blunt, hoping to remind him in case he’d somehow missed the memo.

He shook his head, his smile widening. "I’m an outcast too!"

Violet blinked, unconvinced. With his soft expression and confident demeanor, he didn’t strike her as someone who had ever been shunned in his life.

Deciding not to waste any more time, Violet stood, intent on heading to the library. She needed answers about witches and their signature purple eyes. But as she rose, so did he.

Stretching out a hand, he introduced himself. "My name’s Nathan. Honestly, I came to you because you looked like you needed a friend. I’m too shy to approach anyone else." His hand trembled slightly, his sincerity catching her off guard.

"...I don’t care what they say about you. Rane wasn’t a good person," he continued, his voice softening. "Trust me. I know."

Violet’s eyes widened, her gaze sharpening as she looked at him. His tone wasn’t just empathetic; it hinted at personal experience.

"He was a bully," Nathan added with a sigh.

"Yes, he was," Violet agreed immediately, nodding vigorously. "But just so you know, I had nothing to do with his death."

Nathan smiled warmly. "I never thought you did."

Relieved, Violet reached out to shake his hand. "I’m heading to the library now," she said. "I’ve got some free time before I need to head back."

"I’m done with work for now too," Nathan replied, matching her steps as they began walking. "I’m in the kitchen, but my shift isn’t until the evening. I don’t mind tagging along—I enjoy reading books too."

His genuine expression made Violet feel a pang of guilt. She didn’t actually enjoy reading; she was heading to the library for answers, not leisure. Still, she wasn’t ready to share her purpose with him, so she let the comment slide.

As they walked, she decided to test the waters with a seemingly casual question. "The speaker mentioned witches have purple eyes. Is it possible for a normal human to have them without witch blood?"

She tried to sound indifferent, but her heart raced as she awaited his response.

"You mean like yours?" Nathan asked, his gaze flicking to her eyes. "Of course not. The magic in a witch’s blood causes the color change. It’s a family trait. If you have purple eyes, your siblings will too. Your sisters, if you have any, would even be able to wield magic once they’re trained."

His explanation was so matter-of-fact that Violet’s stomach twisted.

"They’d have to go into hiding, though," Nathan added. "Female witches aren’t allowed in werewolf districts. Too much bad blood between witches and wolves."

Violet barely registered his words. One detail had lodged itself in her mind like a shard of glass: if her siblings didn’t have purple eyes, then...

"Wait." She froze, grabbing Nathan’s arm. "You’re saying it’s impossible for it to skip someone? That everyone with witch blood has purple eyes?"

Nathan’s expression shifted to concern. "Viole, it doesn’t skip. If you have these eyes, at least one of your parents does too."

Her grip slackened, and she released his arm, quickening her pace toward the library. Nathan followed, his expression puzzled, but she didn’t stop until she found a quiet, secluded corner.

Once there, Violet leaned against the wall, tears streaming down her face as she struggled to control her sobs.

"Maybe there’s a mistake," she whispered to herself, sniffing as she tried to hold back the flood of memories—the sacrifices she’d made, the nights she’d gone without food, sleep, or warmth so her siblings could have more. freewebnøvel.coɱ

Her family’s favoritism had always stung, but now the implications were too much to bear.

"Maybe they didn’t tell me for my own good," she mumbled, her voice trembling as more tears slipped down her cheeks.

Nathan’s arms wrapped around her shoulders, patting her back gently.

"They love you," he said softly. "I’m sure they just assumed you knew."

Violet didn’t respond, too consumed by the wave of emotions crashing over her. Finally, she pulled away, wiping her face with the handkerchief Nathan offered.

"I’m sorry," she murmured. "I shouldn’t have broken down like that. Crying in front of you—"

"I’m glad you felt safe enough to," Nathan interrupted, his voice kind but tinged with an odd confusion as he stood. "I should go. We’ll talk another time, okay?"

Violet nodded, offering a weak smile. "Thanks, Nathan."

She watched him turn to leave, her heart a mix of gratitude and exhaustion.

But as Nathan walked away, the warmth in his expression disappeared. Pulling his hand from his pocket, he flexed his bruised knuckles, wincing slightly.

I had to beat up a servant just to get the evening shift. And now I have to play therapist for this mess? he grumbled internally, quickening his pace. This better be worth it.