Earning the Love of a Princess-Chapter 263: Violet: Pecking Order
3 June, 1348. Magdaline Castle, Islia
Violet walked the busy corridors on her way to the jewellers’ workshops. Queen Celia had sent her to collect her favourite rope of black pearls, which had needed the clasp repaired.
As she walked, Violet thought about her recent rise in prestige as a lady-in-waiting. The Thierre sisters were no longer the lowly newcomers.
As with any circle within the court, there was a definite pecking order amongst the queen’s ladies. And for someone to rise in the ranks, it inevitably meant that someone else had to fall.
Violet wasn’t phased by that - so long as she was on the rise, she knew she had to be indifferent to those that tumbled below her. Hell, she could use them as stepping stones on her upward climb, the same way they’d treat her if the roles were reversed.
Court life didn’t breed lasting loyalty. Everyone knew that.
Violet had a sneaking suspicion, however, that she had risen as far as she could in the hierarchy of ladies and would struggle to climb any higher. There was one simple reason for that.
Queen Celia didn’t really like her.
Violet knew that ever since Kathryn and Maisie had lost their previous favoured positions, the queen had grown to rely on her. Her Majesty saw the value of Violet’s blunt, logical manner. She even gave Violet important errands to run, trusting her to carry them out well.
But Queen Celia never asked her to sing her beloved ballads or brush out her hair. It was never Violet that the queen called for when she just wanted to rest quietly in her bedchamber with silent company at her side.
It wasn’t that Violet liked the queen either. But when the most powerful lady in the land held you at arms length and watched you the same way one might watch a wolf amongst lambs, your prospects for promotion were limited. 𝑓𝑟𝑒𝘦𝓌𝑒𝑏𝑛𝑜𝘷𝑒𝘭.𝒸𝘰𝑚
Damn that woman for not liking me, Violet grumbled in her mind. All she wants are sycophants that tell her what she wants to hear and deny the reality around her. Anyone who confronts her with the truth, she holds a grudge against.
"Oh yes, Your Majesty. You’re still a very attractive woman." Violet mimicked in a sickly sweet voice. "No, Your Majesty. The king never looks at other ladies. Especially not the young ones who are always swarming around him. He only has eyes for you."
What was the point of living in a dream world and comforting yourself with lies? Wasn’t it better to just front up to the truth and then change the things you weren’t happy with?
No wonder the queen loves Ilse so much, given that sister of mine floats around in a fantasy where everything is rosy and the court is filled with nothing but people who want to be her friends.
Violet was interrupted in her silent grumbling when she realised she’d reached the jewellers’ workshops. They were at the end of a long, gloomy corridor.
She knocked upon the door and was ushered inside by a middle aged man in a stained apron. Violet looked around the room, wrinkling her nose at the acrid smell of forged metal. As the man rummaged through various shelves, she spotted a few jewellery items and even started to think about pocketing one while the jeweller was distracted.
Violet had never owned a piece of jewellery in her life, apart from the small gold studs in her ears. She knew there was a set of hereditary jewels within her family - a necklace, earrings and a gem encrusted circlet - that belonged to the Thierre line. She’d seen her own mother wear them on important occasions. But of course, the twins hadn’t been let anywhere near them.
Would anyone notice if she quickly palmed something now and slipped it under her sleeve? The pretty gold necklace she could see on a nearby bench, or that pair or earrings that gleamed with what looked like topaz?
What would be the point though, Violet asked herself in resignation? It’s not as if she could wear it without attracting unwanted attention. She knew that Ilse and her were already known at court for their modest, austere style - dark, muted gowns and a complete lack of adornment. The same courtiers who giggled behind their hands and called them sad little birds, would be the first to question if Violet suddenly wore a piece of jewellery.
The jeweller eventually handed her a velvet box. With a nod, Violet started walking back in the direction she’d come from. The longer she walked however, the more the box burned in her hand as her curiosity got the better of her.
She was in one of the least frequented parts of the castle. Surely no one would be around to notice if she slipped into an alcove for a few moments?
Violet slowly opened one of the doors and found herself in what had once been an archive room, but was now cluttered with what looked like junk. The corners were thick with cobwebs and the air smelled musty.
Using the beams of light that were coming into the room through a dusty window, Violet slowly opened the velvet box in her hand. She gasped.
A string of stunning black pearls gleamed against the satin lining.
She’d never seen anything so beautiful.
Each pearl was a perfect, glowing orb. The clasp holding the necklace together was a round diamond the size of her thumbnail, surrounded by a halo of tiny diamonds.
What would it be like to own and wear such a treasure, she wondered? What would it be like to know it wasn’t even your most valuable piece? Violet had been a lady-in-waiting long enough to know Queen Celia owned some truly spectacular jewels. She had a soft spot for the pearls though, because they’d been a gift from the king after the birth of one of their children.
Envy bubbling like poison inside her, Violet slowly closed the velvet box again. She was about to head back into the corridor when she heard a muffled sound. She froze.
The sound seemed to becoming from behind a door within the archive room. Violet heard it again.
Her instincts told her she should leave as quickly and quietly as possible. She should head back to the queen’s apartments and ignore whatever was happening behind the door. It’s not like it could be anything good taking place in such a dark corner of the castle.
Violet tip toed towards the heavy door and pressed her fingers ever so gently against it, feeling it give. It was unlocked.
She pressed a little more until she could peep through the crack between door edge and frame. From what she could see, it was another archive room. There were dusty shelves within her line of sight but nothing out of the ordinary.
The sound however, was now louder. It was a woman’s voice, moaning rhythmically.
Violet immediately remembered Kathryn Danner in the gardens that night, but she knew it couldn’t be Kathryn in the room. The lady-in-waiting was back in the queen’s chambers, helping embroider one of the never ending succession of altar cloths.
She pushed the door open a little wider. A flash of golden red hair caught Violet’s eye.
She instantly recognised a young maid she’d seen a few times around the castle. Violet had never bothered finding out her name, but her pretty face was familiar enough, as was her mane of bouncy curls that always seemed ready to spill from its ties.
As Violet eased the door open a sliver more, she saw the maid was bent forward and with her hands braced against the wall. A tall man stood behind her, thrusting powerfully as he held her by the hips. He tossed his head back with a groan and Violet saw his profile.
Prince Leo.
Good lord, Violet clicked her tongue in disgust. Him again? Was there any lady at court whose skirts he wasn’t trying to get into?
Clicking her tongue turned out to be a careless move. Because while the prince was promiscuous, it seemed he also had rather keen hearing.
To Violet’s horror, Leo turned his head slightly and looked right at her through the gap in the ajar door. Their eyes locked.
Then without breaking the pace of his movements, Leo bared his teeth to her in a smug grin.
Violet staggered backwards in shock, almost dropping the box of pearls. Without any hesitation, she turned and ran from the dusty room and into the corridor. She kept running and running, past bemused courtiers and servants.
She only stopped when she reached the doors to Queen Celia’s apartment. Her lungs felt like they were burning.
Lord, if only she could erase what she’d just seen from her mind! The prince had looked right at her.
Violet caught her breath and quickly scanned her clothes to make sure nothing was amiss before stepping through the chamber doors, her face completely blank of any shock.
