when he arrived. She took the letter from him with trembling hands. She lit the candle on her bedside table and read the letter three times, just to be sure she understood.
To test herself Violet plucked a single hair from her head. She barely felt it. It was more of an annoyance than anything else. Violet sighed deeply. Tomorrow she needed to convince the others, and herself, that it was a lot more than just an annoyance.
“Thank you, Duke,” she whispered. She patted the dog on the head and then watched as he left the room.
Violet lay down and tried to sleep, but thoughts of Richard crowded her mind. She thought of the dance they had shared. It had been so perfect. A perfect moment in an otherwise imperfect day.
In the morning Violet woke well before Genevieve. She dressed in silence and made her way downstairs, watching as servants cleaned and carried and made preparations for the day. Violet wanted desperately to help. For the first time in her life she felt useless, and she longed for a physical task that would take her mind off of everything that was happening.
In the great hall the steward approached her. “Princess Violet, a messenger arrived early this morning who wished to speak with you,” he said.
Immediately Violet thought of her mother. “Where can I find the messenger?” she asked hurriedly.
“I believe he’s in the kitchen. I can summon him for you.”
“No, that’s okay,” Violet said, already headed for the kitchen.
“But my lady—”
Violet just kept walking. When she entered the kitchen, several servants rushed forward, protesting, and she thought about what Genevieve had said about never having been allowed in a kitchen. Violet scanned the room for a familiar face.
“Violet, over here!”
She turned and saw Thomas. The boy hastened up to her and regarded her with awe. “I hardly recognized you,” he said.
“Thomas, what news?” Violet asked, too afraid to engage in pleasantries with him.
His brow furrowed. “Your father sent me to tell you that he won’t yet be joining you. Your mother’s health is doing worse and worse. They send you their love and are remembering you in their prayers.”
“She’s still alive?” Violet asked, hope touching her suddenly.
Thomas nodded solemnly. “Father Paul doesn’t think she’s going to make it, though.”
“But she’s made it this far.”
Thomas nodded again.
“Thank you,” Violet said. It didn’t take away allthe fear or worry, but it was a small relief to know that she was still okay. “Are you going to be staying?” she asked Thomas.
He shook his head. “I’m just getting some breakfast, and then I have to return to the farm. Your father’s had to hire my older brothers to help get harvest done in time for the Feasting. He’s put me in charge of them,” he told her importantly.
Violet smiled. “You make sure and keep them in line.”
Thomas nodded. “Don’t worry; I’m keeping a good eye on your parents, too. That’s why I have to get back, though.”
“Would you tell my parents I love them both?”
“I will,” he promised.
When Violet returned to the great hall, she felt a little more at ease than she had earlier.
The morning meal was a quiet affair, and she suspected everyone was exhausted from the previous evening’s events. The king made no announcement about the day’s challenge, but he told everyone that the steward would come get them when it was their turn, as he had the day before.
Upstairs in their room Violet watched as Genevieve did some needlework. The other girl tried to teach her a couple of stitches, but Violet was too distracted to pay very close attention.
Finally, the steward came to their room, but this time he escorted out Genevieve first. Violet had to wait only a few minutes before she returned, rubbingthe back of her head absently. Then it was Violet’s turn to follow the steward, who led her not to the throne room but to the queen’s chambers.
Violet was
To test herself Violet plucked a single hair from her head. She barely felt it. It was more of an annoyance than anything else. Violet sighed deeply. Tomorrow she needed to convince the others, and herself, that it was a lot more than just an annoyance.
“Thank you, Duke,” she whispered. She patted the dog on the head and then watched as he left the room.
Violet lay down and tried to sleep, but thoughts of Richard crowded her mind. She thought of the dance they had shared. It had been so perfect. A perfect moment in an otherwise imperfect day.
In the morning Violet woke well before Genevieve. She dressed in silence and made her way downstairs, watching as servants cleaned and carried and made preparations for the day. Violet wanted desperately to help. For the first time in her life she felt useless, and she longed for a physical task that would take her mind off of everything that was happening.
In the great hall the steward approached her. “Princess Violet, a messenger arrived early this morning who wished to speak with you,” he said.
Immediately Violet thought of her mother. “Where can I find the messenger?” she asked hurriedly.
“I believe he’s in the kitchen. I can summon him for you.”
“No, that’s okay,” Violet said, already headed for the kitchen.
“But my lady—”
Violet just kept walking. When she entered the kitchen, several servants rushed forward, protesting, and she thought about what Genevieve had said about never having been allowed in a kitchen. Violet scanned the room for a familiar face.
“Violet, over here!”
She turned and saw Thomas. The boy hastened up to her and regarded her with awe. “I hardly recognized you,” he said.
“Thomas, what news?” Violet asked, too afraid to engage in pleasantries with him.
His brow furrowed. “Your father sent me to tell you that he won’t yet be joining you. Your mother’s health is doing worse and worse. They send you their love and are remembering you in their prayers.”
“She’s still alive?” Violet asked, hope touching her suddenly.
Thomas nodded solemnly. “Father Paul doesn’t think she’s going to make it, though.”
“But she’s made it this far.”
Thomas nodded again.
“Thank you,” Violet said. It didn’t take away allthe fear or worry, but it was a small relief to know that she was still okay. “Are you going to be staying?” she asked Thomas.
He shook his head. “I’m just getting some breakfast, and then I have to return to the farm. Your father’s had to hire my older brothers to help get harvest done in time for the Feasting. He’s put me in charge of them,” he told her importantly.
Violet smiled. “You make sure and keep them in line.”
Thomas nodded. “Don’t worry; I’m keeping a good eye on your parents, too. That’s why I have to get back, though.”
“Would you tell my parents I love them both?”
“I will,” he promised.
When Violet returned to the great hall, she felt a little more at ease than she had earlier.
The morning meal was a quiet affair, and she suspected everyone was exhausted from the previous evening’s events. The king made no announcement about the day’s challenge, but he told everyone that the steward would come get them when it was their turn, as he had the day before.
Upstairs in their room Violet watched as Genevieve did some needlework. The other girl tried to teach her a couple of stitches, but Violet was too distracted to pay very close attention.
Finally, the steward came to their room, but this time he escorted out Genevieve first. Violet had to wait only a few minutes before she returned, rubbingthe back of her head absently. Then it was Violet’s turn to follow the steward, who led her not to the throne room but to the queen’s chambers.
Violet was
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