Earning the Love of a Princess-Chapter 330: Violet: Ever Unchanging
Was it possible the girl was no maiden at all, despite all the delicate, dainty airs she gave herself? Was it possible she was mentioning the names of past lovers in her prayers?
So unexpected. And so scandalous!
Violet resolved to ask Leo right away what he knew about the girl’s past. Or perhaps William might know more, given the silly lad was often in her company. Maybe he’d be panting over her a bit less if he knew the sweet little pagan had already been spoiled.
What to do with this information though, Violet asked herself? Should I take it to King Edward right away? If the girl has already debased herself in the marriage market, the king might not see her as such a handy hostage to keep. He might even decide to return her over the border.
That would be the best outcome, Violet concluded. Otherwise, I’ll have to become resigned to someday soon turning a shadowy corner in the castle, only to find the chit with her legs wrapped around Leo’s waist.
Such a scene was as inevitable as the sun rising in the east. And it was always so, so awkward when she stumbled across her rake of a husband ploughing into his latest silly indulgence.
Violet stood up silently from her pew to slip back out of the chapel unnoticed.
In a case of terrible timing however, so did the foreign girl.
As Princess Camilla turned around, her eyes widened with shock at finding Violet so close to her. The shock only lasted an instant though, before her face returned to its usual polite indifference.
The girl bowed her head deferentially and murmured a courteous greeting. She moved to slip out of the pew and towards the exit.
"Wait." The word pushed itself out of Violet’s mouth before she even realised. The girl looked equally surprised to hear it. The two of them locked eyes.
"What can I do for you, Your Grace?"
The chit was wearing a gown of simple brown velvet, trimmed in white silk at the bodice. She wore only a necklace with a single topaz pendant on it. So how did she manage to look as regal as an empress? Who had taught her to move so gracefully that she made even standing up from a pew look like poetry?
The Moraigthian girl said nothing more, just calmly gazed back at Violet as she waited for a reply. She stood before the second lady of the land, yet her eyes showed not even a sliver of fear.
Why isn’t she even a little scared of me?
"I heard you mention the name of several men in your prayers." Violet finally said.
"And so?"
"And so...I find it rather surprising that a young maiden would know so many men." Violet smirked. "Unless being a maiden means something quite different in the north to what it means here."
The foreign girl pursed her lips into a frown but didn’t blush or do anything else to suggest she was embarrassed or trying to hide a shameful truth. "It looks like private worship, at least, means something quite different in my country as it does in yours. Because this is the first time I’ve ever had my very prayers eavesdropped on."
Violet felt her face grow hot with discomfort. The girl was being blatantly disrespectful by accusing an Islian princess of eavesdropping! How dare she? "So you deny saying those names?"
"I deny nothing. I only wonder why it matters to you so much who I pray for."
"If you have a scandalous past, you know King Edward won’t accept you here." Violet hissed. "You’re only useful to him because he thinks you have value as someone he can force into an advantageous marriage. If he knows you’re no prize, he’ll just send you back to your uncle. It’s where you should’ve stayed to begin with!"
The chit blinked slowly, thoughtfully. "Being here was not my choice or my decision, Your Grace. You have one of your princes to thank for that. If you don’t want me around, take your complaints up with him."
"Stop changing the subject! I heard you say, was it Daniel? And other names! Are these past lovers of yours?"
Silence.
Violet tilted her chin menacingly, cursing the foreign princess for having the audacity to be taller than her, especially in heels. Surely she’d fall into line quickly and confess, given she had few true allies at the court? She was merely a useful pawn because her devil of an uncle sat on the throne of Moraigth, that was all.
But the girl didn’t flinch. Instead she asked in a soft voice, "Have you no hobbies or interests, Princess Violet? Is that why you skulk around listening to what others say and do? I suggest finding another hobby to fill your days."
Violet gasped in shock. It had been years since someone, apart from the bitch of a queen, had spoken to her so dismissively. There was no way in hell she was going to stand for it! Especially not from a devil worshipping nobody.
"Tell me how you know those men you mentioned, or I’ll have you hauled in front of the king and queen for unladylike behaviour!"
The beautiful dark eyes took on a look of genuine sorrow. "Daniel, Duncan, Malcolm. My three elder brothers. They all fell fighting against my uncle a few weeks ago."
Violet said nothing, even though her righteous anger suddenly deflated and she felt nothing but mortified. The chit had been praying for her dead brothers, that was all.
Well, how was she expected to know that?
"Do you have siblings, Your Grace?" the girl asked.
"A brother." Violet replied curtly. "And two sisters, though both of them are gone from this life." That was the truth, wasn’t it?
"Then you of all people, should know how painful it is to lose a beloved sibling." the chit replied in a glacial tone. "I assume you have no other questions for me, Your Grace? In which case, I’ll take my leave now. Have a pleasant day." She began to walk back up the aisle.
"Don’t you want to return home, though?" Violet couldn’t resist asking.
Camilla stopped walking and turned around again very slowly. "It’s not really my decision. I’m stuck here until your king says otherwise. Us women don’t get the final say in anything, do we?"
"But let’s pretend we did. Wouldn’t you want to go back to your homeland?"
"I don’t think so. Everything I loved has been burned to ashes. The place where I was born has nothing left for me to refer to it as home." Camilla’s voice was tight and her frame tense. "I don’t like it here much. I wish I could escape. But there’s nowhere else for me to be except here."
How extraordinary. The way she describes Moraigth is exactly how I think of Orravalo, Violet realised in dismay.
"I suppose I understand. But you’re neither liked or welcomed here. You realise that, don’t you?" Violet’s voice was no longer harsh, just curious about the odd creature before her.
"Yes, I realise. I have eyes and ears, and they work very well." the foreigner replied. "It’s not a surprise to me, though. If I were Islian, I wouldn’t want me around here either. Especially because, Lord forbid, I know how to read and write."
That piece of information made Violet’s temper bubble up again. Of course the girl had been given a superior education too. Something else to make her so unlikeable.
"Then how do you propose to stay here? To try and piece together a future and live a life in a place where people may respect your rank, but they’ll never like or trust you?"
Camilla tipped her head to the side and said nothing for a moment. "Well, I don’t expect it to be easy. But then, you’ve managed to do it, Princess Violet. Perhaps I can too. Perhaps you might even give me some pointers, seeing that no one here seems to like you much either."
If they weren’t in a holy space, Violet would’ve slapped her face on the spot. She told herself the slight stinging sensation in her eyes was from the incense, not because the barbarian girl’s words were painfully accurate.
Camilla didn’t look upset or scared at the rage on Violet’s face. She just stared back as if she were a mighty tree in a forest and the Crown Princess of Islia were a mere reed bending in the breeze. As if she knew her own position and that it was ever unchanging - what she was and always would be, no matter how many times she was abandoned or humiliated or whispered about.
That’s because you’re a princess by marriage, Violet, the little voice inside her head scolded her. This girl a princess by birth and blood. You know you’re not really her superior and more importantly, so does she.
The chit merely bowed her head again and left the chapel.
Lord, I hate her, Violet fumed. I really do. I’ll see her brought down to nothing and she’ll be sorry she ever spoke to me that way.
Later that night, as she lay next to her husband while he snored through yet another drunken stupor, Violet continued to fume. But she also wondered what it would be like to know her own worth the way the Moraigthian seemed to. To know who she was with such absolute certainty, that no one could ever take it away from her.
