Earning the Love of a Princess-Chapter 299: Violet: Red Dots

26 October, 1348. Thierre Manor, Duchy of Orravalo, Islia

"Violet, Violet..." the voice was high pitched and far away but sounded insistent.

Violet squeezed her eyes shut tighter and tried to ignore it.

"Violet, wake up!"

Something was shaking her and pulling at the warmth and softness that cocooned her. Violet felt icy air kiss her neck and shoulders. With a groan of complaint, she curled herself tighter into a ball against the cold.

"Wake up...sister!"

Violet suddenly opened her eyes, unsure where she was. Who was that voice calling her? Had it been a dream?

Then a small face and a pair of messy, apricot coloured braids swam into view.

"Do you always sleep so deeply or were you just pretending? I was shaking you for ages!" Sancia asked.

Violet shot the young girl a grouchy look as she slowly sat up, pulling the fur throw that she’d slept in, back over her shoulders. A trace of nausea was already simmering in her belly. She could see she was in the winter chamber, curled up in the window seat. Why had she...?

She then recalled everything that had been said and done the night before, when she and Ilse had arrived back at the family manor and been confronted by their furious parents.

Her belly started hurting more.

"What do you want, Sancia? Can’t I be left alone to sleep in peace?"

"I want to know why you slept here instead of in our bedchamber. It’s even colder here that it is with Ilse and me." Sancia said.

"It seemed like a good idea at the time." Violet kept her answer vague. She didn’t feel like talking about her estrangement from her twin. Especially not with a nosy child.

"Is it because Ilse is so angry at you?"

Eyes narrowed, Violet stared at her sister. "What would you know about that, when it doesn’t even concern you?"

"Well, I’m not deaf. I heard the way Mother and Father yelled at you both. Mostly you, though. I heard Ilse speaking to you in an angry voice as well." Sancia smirked. "So I figure you did something wrong to make everyone upset. And I figure you also did something very wrong to get yourself kicked out of court."

"What happened is between us twins. So you need to learn to mind your own business and stop snooping!" Violet replied, hating how even an ignorant child just assumed she had to be the reason behind anything bad that happened. Not Ilse, never Ilse.

Sancia stepped back with a shrug. "Our house isn’t that big. When mother calls you stupid and a slut at the top of her lungs, I can’t help but overhear. So what did you do that makes you a slut? And what does that word mean?"

Violet hopped down from the window seat and stood over Sancia. "What did I just say about minding your own business?"

"Fine then." the younger girl pouted. "If you won’t tell me what you’re fighting about, I’ll ask Ilse. She’ll tell me! If she ever wakes up, that is."

Violet had already started walking towards the door, to head to the privy. She turned to face Sancia again, surprised. "What do you mean, if she ever wakes up?"

"She’s still asleep. I tried to wake her but it turns out she’s can sleep even more deeply than you!"

Violet looked out the large window. It was well past dawn. "Quick, pass me my dress." She gestured to her gown from the day before, which lay crumpled next to the window seat.

Sancia lifted the dress between thumb and forefinger. "Why do you want to wear this again? It’s all dusty. Don’t you have any clean clothes?"

Without replying, Violet took the dress from Sancia and pulled it on. Gesturing to her back, she said, "Help lace this up."

"Why? I’m not your maid."

Violet bit back a string of curses. Lord knew, she’d learned plenty of them at court. "For the love of all that’s holy, Sancia, just help me! It’s important!"

Sancia stepped behind her, pouting again, but at least was willing to help. As soon as Violet felt her tighten and tie off the laces, she rushed out of the room.

She started running down the corridor towards bedchamber she’d shared with Ilse since they’d been babes in the cradle. She could hear Sancia’s footfalls behind her as she tried to keep up.

"Why are you rushing like this?" the younger girl called out.

Violet didn’t respond. On the surface, it didn’t seem that improbable that Ilse would sleep so late, despite her having been an annoyingly early riser all her life. It had been an emotionally draining several days.

Despite that, Violet couldn’t ignore the tiny prickle of worry in her chest. She couldn’t really explain it to Sancia or to anyone. It was just a sense she had about her twin.

She hurried into the familiar old bedchamber, where the drapes were still drawn shut. Violet leaned over the bed where she could see a silhouette buried under blankets.

"Ilse? Ilse. Wake up." Violet gently shook the blanket covered shoulder.

No response.

Violet turned to Sancia, who was hovering in the doorway. "Open the drapes!"

"Why are you ordering me about? You’re-"

"Sancia!" she screamed. "Stop arguing with me and just help!"

The pang of fear in her voice seemed to make Sancia listen to her. The younger girl crossed the bedchamber and pulled the heavy drapes open.

Violet carefully pulled the blankets back from Ilse’s head and shoulders as sunlight flooded into the room.

Ilse was curled into a ball, seemingly fast asleep. Nothing looked out of the ordinary as Violet looked down at her familiar, lovely profile. She sighed with relief.

Still, she wasn’t completely reassured. When she put her hand on Ilse’s shoulder to shake her again, Violet felt the nightgown under her palm was clammy with sweat.

"Who sweats in this miserable cold?" she mumbled to herself. Pressing her hand to Ilse’s forehead, she could feel the skin was alarmingly hot.

"Sister, wake up. I think you have a fever. I can bring you some cool water to wash with." Violet said more gently. She reached for Ilse’s thick braid, which was tucked around her neck.

That’s when she saw it.

A small rash of fiery red dots on Ilse’s throat was revealed when Violet smoothed her braid back. It stood out starkly against her skin, which was otherwise a waxy white.

Violet frowned, sure she hadn’t seen the rash there the day before.

She held her breath when fear suddenly squeezed her heart in its grasp like a vice.

Praying she was wrong, Violet hastily pulled the blankets back further so she could see one of Ilse’s hands to grab. When she opened one of Ilse’s loosely clenched fists, she saw the bright red dots on her soft, hot palm.

Violet dropped her sister’s hand and ran out of the bedchamber, past a confused looking Sancia.

"Father! Mother!" Violet yelled as she grabbed her skirt hem and tore down the main corridor. "Ilse has fallen sick! She needs a physician! Father!"

She banged both fists against the door to her parents’ bedchamber. After what felt like some of the longest moments of Violet’s life, the door swung open. Lady Thierre scowled at her, still in her nightgown and fur robe.

"What is with this infernal noise, daughter? I swear, you’ve come back from court with worse manners than-"

"Where’s Father?" Violet cried out over her mother. There was no point trying to seek help from her, Violet decided quickly. Lady Thierre would be quite useless in this situation.

"In the stables, I believe. But what-"

Violet bolted past her and kept running, past Abel who had been drawn to the doorway of his own chamber because of the noise. She saw her shock mirrored in his eyes as she swept past him and down the main staircase.

I must look a sight if even Abel looks scared, she thought.

Violet could feel tears of panic welling up in her eyes as she ran. It was only when she was outside and the cold, sharp cobblestones started stinging the soles of her feet that she realised she was barefoot. Ignoring the cold, she kept running until she reached the side entrance to the stables.

She saw her father holding a bridle and talking to the doddering old stable hand that had been at Thierre Manor longer than any of the duke’s children had been alive.

"Father!" Violet panted. "Come quick! Ilse’s sick and she needs a physician right away."

Lord Thierre frowned. "You girls haven’t even been home a day and it’s been nothing but shouting and complaints. Have you upset her again with another quarrel?"

"It’s not like that, Father!" Violet wanted to shake the man. "I think it’s red fever."

At those words, Lord Thierre blanched and dropped the bridle he carried. The old stable hand quickly crossed himself and muttered a quick prayer.