Chapter 4

“Aiden,” the marquess said in a warning tone.

Violet jumped upon hearing the man’s voice. She tried to greet him, but he was quicker and waved to stop her from bowing.

He turned to the boys. “This is the saint. Introduce yourselves,” he ordered.

“Wh-what?!” the boy cried out. He stared at Violet as if he couldn’t possibly believe what he’d just heard. His expression even bore a hint of hostility, which made the little girl cringe.

“That’s bad manners, Aiden,” the boy sitting at his side chided gently as he got to his feet. This boy had light blond hair and dark blue eyes that were just like the marquess’s. He was taller than Aiden, but looked to be only a few years older.

Without any hesitation, this older boy approached her. “Nice to meet you, Your Holiness. My name is Daniel Ermengart. I’m honored to be at your service.” He kneeled flawlessly.

She pressed her lips together, shocked. She had never seen such a handsome boy before. Her cheeks grew warm.

“You have to give him permission to get up,” someone told her.

“Y-you may stand,” Violet said.

Daniel got to his feet and met her eyes with a smile. His kind face almost lulled her into relaxation, but an annoyed voice snapped her back to reality.

“Is she stupid or something?” Aiden said, frowning at her with his arms crossed.

She hung her head. He wasn’t wrong to think so. After all, Madam Goethe had always said the same thing. It certainly seemed that these young lords did not like her.

“Aiden!” warned Daniel and the marquess in unison.

“She should introduce yourself first,” the younger boy said, sticking out his tongue. “You said she was supposed to be my younger sister. Why should I have to kneel before my own sister?”

The marquess was about to scold him, but Aiden was quicker to speak. “Ugh! And she’s a commoner, right? How can you tell me to kneel before a commoner?”

Violet froze. He was right again. Under normal circumstances, such a thing would be unimaginable. She kept her head hung limply.

“Adrien Ermengart,” the marquess warned for a final time, his voice laced with a quiet anger.

Everyone was silent for several long moments.

Glancing at his young son’s defiant expression, the marquess sighed and guided Violet to her place at the table. Aiden stared at her openly, which meant Violet was unable to raise her head even as she took her seat.

“What about Ethelmund?” the marquess asked the butler standing by his side.

“Lord Ethelmund is out at the moment, my lord.”

The marquess frowned. “I thought I told him to join us for breakfast today.”

“You know how Lord Ethelmund can be,” the butler replied.

The marquess let out a sigh of discontent.

Violet wondered who they were talking about. Is he a young lord as well? Why are there so many young lords in this house?

After the marquess picked up his knife, the rest of them began eating. Violet stared at the large piece of chicken in front of her, not knowing what to do.

“You don’t even know how to eat, huh?” Aiden commented. “Well, I guess this is a first for someone like you.”

Violet did not argue. It was true, after all.

Aiden seemed rather surprised by her lack of protest. Of course, he knew commoners did not eat like they did as nobles. But seeing the truth before him seemed to really drive it home. Had she truly never seen food like this before?

“Aiden, that’s enough,” Daniel warned.

“Come on, Daniel!”

“You have no right to insult her just because you know a little more about table manners,” the older boy said firmly.

Aiden pouted yet did not look away from Violet.

Fynn finally came to her aid. “Come, Your Holiness. Let’s start by picking up the spoon on your right.”

Breakfast was difficult. Violet felt her head spin at the idea that she would have to remember all these rules just to eat.

She forced herself to swallow the food while glancing nervously at the boys. Whenever she made a mistake, Aiden laughed loudly to mock her. Violet got the feeling he would make fun of her regardless of whether she pigged out or picked at her food. The nobility played by their own rules, after all.

Since she’d failed to get on his good side from the start, she probably wouldn’t be able to escape humiliation no matter what she did. Still, she had no choice but to continue to eat.

“Perhaps you should take some lessons in etiquette,” the marquess finally said with a sigh. Violet was too ashamed to look up.

After they’d finally finished their meal, Daniel approached her gently. “Aiden can be a little mean sometimes, Your Holiness,” he said apologetically.

“I see…” she replied weakly.

The boy patted her shoulder. His hand was larger than she’d expected it to be. Violet looked up, surprised by the sudden warmth.

“You will get better,” he said with a smile.

Despite his kind tone, she knew that he was indirectly criticizing her poor etiquette. She did not know if things would ever get better.

Her already twisting stomach lurched. Before Daniel could say anything more, Violet ran into the closest room and vomited.

Fynn cried out in surprise. Violet could not recognize the exhaustion and annoyance on her face, since she was too busy doubled over on the floor.

“Your Holiness!” Fynn and several other maids rushed in to tend to her. Talking among themselves, they watched Violet vomit on the floor.

The contents of her stomach lurched, as though they were rejecting her dirty, common body. The sweet white bread she’d never tasted before, the creamy soup, and the well-seasoned chicken all tumbled out in a mush.

Fynn anxiously brought some water. Trying to get the little girl cleaned up, a few maids attempted to take her to the bath. For the first time, Violet shook her head defiantly. She was uncomfortable with one person attending to her, let alone a whole crowd.

Before stepping into the bath on her own, Violet glanced at the mirror. She saw an unfamiliar girl with silver hair and blue, not violet, eyes. Feeling scared and unnerved by her own looks, she coughed. She could still taste bitterness on her tongue.

***

Sitting in the carriage, Violet kept her head down without speaking. The marquess sat across from her, looking out the window thoughtfully, but also remaining silent. He was naturally a succinct man, while Violet simply chose to keep her mouth shut in unknown situations. It was better to speak less and make fewer mistakes in the presence of a difficult person. Life had taught her that lesson.

She was feeling dizzy after throwing up so much yesterday. Unfortunately, she couldn’t even shut her eyes.

The marquess looked at her awkwardly sitting across from him. “Remember, Your Holiness, you have to be very careful when in the presence of His Majesty. Or any member of the royal family, for that matter,” he said.

“I understand,” she replied respectfully, scared she would offend the man if she remained silent any longer. She was too terrified to even breathe properly.

The marquess, however, did not seem to notice. “If you come upon any of the priests, you must run away.”

“The priests?”

The marquess nodded. “They’ll be constantly on the lookout for a chance to take you away. I don’t think anything will happen since you’ll have someone by your side at all times. But don’t hesitate to flee if you happen to run into a priest while you’re alone.”

Violet nodded back. She couldn’t forget how the priests had groveled before her, fanaticism on their faces. These were the same men who beat Lydia black and blue at night, but they were apparently capable of smiling like sycophants during the day. Violet did not know much about what was happening, but one thing she was sure of was that she did not want to go to the temple.

The marquess seemed comforted by her obedience and looked back out the window.

The carriage stopped in front of the royal palace. Instead of admiring the grandeur of the building, Violet kept her eyes averted, as if this was somewhere she knew she wasn’t supposed to be.

The palace attendants greeted them and guided them to the king’s reception room. The room was rather small, not a wide hall like the throne room. They remained standing until the king arrived, then knelt in front of him.

“You may rise,” the king said.

Violet and the marquess got to their feet. Violet’s foot caught on the hem of her dress, and she staggered forward, but quickly regained her balance and straightened up as the king had ordered. When her eyes met his, she looked down immediately. She still couldn’t believe that she was standing before the ruler of their kingdom.

“Are you being treated well?” the king asked her stiffly.

“Y-yes.”

The king observed her keenly. Violet hung her head and hunched her shoulders, afraid that he might take issue with her expression.

Tsk. The king clicked his tongue. “She needs lessons in proper etiquette, Marquess.”

“We’re looking for a tutor right now,” the marquess responded.

“I suppose we can’t help where she comes from.” The king sighed and sat down at the table.

Violet and the marquess took their seats carefully after they were invited to.

“What is your name?” the king asked.

“V-Violet, Your Majesty.”

“A flower from Flower Street,” the king said, clicking his tongue again.

Violet wondered what was wrong with her name. The king’s disdain for it made her very uncomfortable. It was another reminder that she did not belong here.

“Did you know about this, Marquess?”

“No, Your Majesty…”

“My, you didn’t even know your foster daughter’s name?”

The marquess looked at the little girl sheepishly, deciding they would need to leave as soon as possible given how pale and shaky she seemed. “I’m planning to invite a theologist to teach her about her faith. Not a priest,” he informed the king.

“An excellent idea,” the king replied, sipping his tea.

Violet also had a cup of tea set before her. She refused to drink it, afraid that she might end up making another mistake.

“After she gets the basics down, I think she will have to be trained to face the Malum,” the marquess continued.

“What do you mean by ‘trained?’”

“Swordsmanship, Your Majesty.”

Swords? Violet looked at the marquess with shock, as did the king.

“It would be a miracle if she even managed to lift a sword,” the king commented.

“Given enough effort, there should be nothing she is unable to accomplish. I do not know how the temple educated the last saint, but I believe that strength is critical to vanquishing anything. She must be prepared for any situation.”

“I trust you, Marquess, but I still find it rather unlikely she will succeed.”

Swordsmanship… Violet thought to herself in a daze. First, she was told she had to learn manners. Now, she would have to wield a sword? It all sounded like too much.

The king looked at the stiff and anxious little girl, pity in his eyes. “Marquess, I believe that our saint needs a break,” he said.

Violet snapped to attention and straightened up, chiding herself for making the mistake of looking tired in front of the king.

“I was thinking the same thing,” the marquess replied.

The marquess gestured, and one of the attendants helped her to her feet. “This way,” the man said.

Violet nodded and followed him out of the room, feeling the eyes of the king and the marquess on her. She tried her best to walk straight, but her puffy dress was not doing her any favors.

Looking tired, the attendant slowed down to match her pace. “This way, Your Holiness.”

A flowery aroma greeted them as they stepped out of the palace. Looking at the beautiful garden in front of them, Violet thought she must have entered paradise. Feeling slightly encouraged, she began to study the colorful flowers.

“It’s time to return to the Ermengart mansion, Your Holiness,” the attendant eventually said to her.

“All right,” Violet said. But she found herself unable to tear her eyes from the colorful garden. She remembered there was a beautiful garden back at the mansion as well.

She heard a bird singing. Turning with wide eyes, she spotted a blue bird chirping at her playfully. Her tense face relaxed into a bright smile. When the nervous common girl finally looked up with a radiant smile, she was as beautiful as any noble-born lady.

“Why are you smiling?” the attendant asked.

“He’s saying hello,” she explained, pointing at the bird.

The attendant gave her a strange look. “Can you understand the language of the birds, Your Holiness?”

“Yes. It’s strange, but I can.”

“I suppose it’s because all of the Goddess’s creations love you, Your Holiness.”

Violet cocked her head. The Goddess’s creations also included people, yet nobody but her mother, father, and a few of the women on Flower Street had ever loved her.

Violet reached out, and the bird fluttered closer, landing on her finger. With its chubby body and the way it puffed up his feathers, the bird struck her more as friendly and chatty than elegant.

Her bright silver hair fluttered in the breeze, shining like the sun itself. As she smiled at the little bird, her eyes as blue as the sky, she truly did seem like a messenger sent by the Goddess. The attendant watched the girl and the bird in a daze. It was a holier sight than anything he’d ever seen.

“Oh, here you are!” a man cried out.

Someone had been able to catch up to Violet while she stopped and listened to the bird. She saw that he was an old man in a white priest’s robe. As soon as he approached, the bird let out a shriek and flapped away.

“My name is Bearnkastel, Your Holiness,” the old man said, kneeling before her.

Violet’s lips parted without making a sound.

“Are you faring well, Your Holiness?”

“I-I’m fine.”

“You seem to have grown thinner overnight. I see now I should have stopped the Marquess before he could use his sly tactics to get his hands on you. No matter. It’s not too late, Your Holiness.” The old man got up and grabbed the little girl’s hand. “You must come to the temple at once. The cardinal is waiting for you.”

“How rude. What are you trying to do?!” protested the attendant.

“How dare a mere attendant call me, a servant of the Goddess, rude? Are you aware of what you’ve done? The Goddess’s wrath will rain down upon you!” the priest shouted angrily, causing the attendant to flinch.

The priest’s hand didn’t once release Violet. His fanaticism frightened her. It dawned on her that she might be taken to the temple by force if she did not escape now. However, she could not bring herself to move.

What do I do if the priests change their minds, and hurt me like they hurt Lydia? She did not want to become like her, left weeping, beaten, and bruised when the priests were done with her.

Unfortunately, the attendant could do nothing to stop the old man. But before Violet had really finished thinking about it, she was sinking her teeth into the priest’s hand.

“Argh!” he screamed at the sudden pain.

Violet took her chance to break free of his loosened grip and ran.

“If you come upon any of the priests, you must run away.”

The marquess’s warning echoed in her mind. Despite the way the priests called after her, she ran as desperately as she could. As her tiny body slipped onto one of the side paths, their cries faded away.

Before long, Violet realized that she had no idea where she was. The labyrinthine garden was full of large flowers and meticulously trimmed trees that made it difficult for her to get her bearings. She had every intention of running toward the palace when she’d darted off.

The threat of being found by the priest and dragged to the temple overwhelmed her. She walked as quietly as she could.

“What should I do?” she muttered.

She heard a bird tweeting and turned to find the same blue bird from before. The bird trilled again as if bidding her to follow before fluttering to land on a nearby tree.

“You want me to go there?” Violet asked. The bird tweeted again. Violet began to follow, and the bird made sure she stayed right on his tail, trilling urgently whenever she fell behind.

Distracted by the bird, Violet screamed when someone grabbed her. When the arm holding her did not relent, she chomped down on their wrist. However, they still did not let her go.

When she looked up, she realized that the blue bird was gone. Then she noticed that the hand now holding her waist was not the old priest’s. She flailed against the strong hold on her.

“Please, stay still,” said a low voice. She looked over her shoulder in shock. The person who had grabbed her was a tall young man with black hair. He looked young enough to still be considered a boy, his face still bearing the signs of youth despite his height.

He was wearing a black uniform adorned with elaborate emblems stitched in golden thread. In Violet’s inexperienced mind, only one person could wear such fabulous clothing. She remembered Lina and Rose saying that a prince lived in the palace. This had to be him. After all, he was the spitting image of what she had always imagined a prince to look like.

When she realized this, fear overwhelmed her. She had just bitten a prince! Tears welled up in her eyes.

The prince was frowning as if in pain, his ocean-blue eyes staring down at her intently. Violet then realized that his hair was not black, but a dark blue that seemed somewhat familiar.