Chapter 6

“Hey, why don’t you eat in the dining hall anymore?” Aiden asked.

Violet froze. He was now standing much closer to her after examining her hand. When she tried to move away, he did not let go. “You’re not starving yourself, are you?” he asked.

She wasn’t sure what to say, so she remained silent.

“Ugh, why aren’t you talking? This is boring,” he snapped, flinging her hand away as he huffed and glared at her.

Violet could not understand how his emotions could change on a dime. She thought to herself that this must just be the way all nobles acted.

“Aiii-den,” called a familiar voice.

Violet looked up to find a blond boy who had just drawn out Aiden’s name with a bright smile. Despite his cheerful expression, he still had a sense of dignified authority coming off him in waves.

Aiden hissed like a cat, surprised at his brother’s sudden appearance, and hid behind the little girl.

“Agent of the Goddess,” the boy said with a smile as he went to kneel before her.

“You don’t have to kneel,” Violet responded. Just as the viscountess had taught her, she gave the young lords permission to greet her more informally—though she wondered if it made any difference when it came to Aiden, since he never greeted her even by name anyway.

“I hoped to speak with you,” Daniel said as he approached the younger boy, who was still cowering behind Violet. “I saw that you set some centipedes loose in my clothes, Aiden. Were you trying to become the youngest member of our family to commit fratricide?”

“B-be thankful it wasn’t scorpions!”

Centipedes? Fratricide? Violet watched quietly as they threw around these threatening words with casual ease.

“I wondered where you’d gone off to, and here I find you, tormenting Her Holiness!” Daniel continued.

“T-tormenting! I was doing nothing of the sort!” Aiden shouted desperately. His voice was so loud that Violet wanted to cover her ears.

“I should tell Father or Ethelmund. They would find an appropriate punishment for your actions, don’t you think?”

“Aww, please! I’m sorry Daniel!”

“Well, I think it’s time you did your homework. Go to your room. Now.”

Aiden darted off at his brother’s firm command. Violet watched him stumble away, wondering if the whole encounter had been an attempt at avoiding schoolwork.

“You’ve improved a lot.” Wondering if those words were meant for her, Violet turned to Daniel, only to find him smiling. He was speaking more casually now. “Oh, is it all right if I dropped the formalities? If you wish, I could still refer to you as ‘Your Holiness.’”

She shook her head desperately. She had never had anyone speak formally to her before, and she couldn’t stand hearing it now. “N-not at all. You may speak as you are comfortable, Young Master—”

She was interrupted by a burst of laughter. Daniel’s lips wore a teasing smile.

Violet averted her eyes, not knowing where to look. The boy’s laughter wasn’t insincere or sinister. It was the perfect example of the natural and polite laugh the viscountess was always talking about.

“I never imagined that the saint would address me as ‘Young Master,’” he said.

Embarrassed, Violet sheepishly lowered her head.

“You’re my little sister now. Would you call your own brother ‘master?’ I should respond by calling you ‘Lady Violet.’” Daniel’s voice was kind.

The girl shook her head desperately, overwhelmed by the very idea.

Daniel smiled. “See? It’s awkward. We shouldn’t call each other by those sorts of titles.”

Violet nodded silently in agreement. Just as she was about to ask what she should call him, he said, “Call me Brother or Daniel.”

“Brother?”

“Yes. You’re my little sister, aren’t you?”

Violet was startled. How can he say something like that so easily? How can he approach a common girl like me with such little reluctance?

His sweet smile did not budge. “It’s Violet, right?”

“Yes,” she replied, wondering how he knew her name. She hadn’t actually told him what it was, and she now knew how people looked at her when they learned her name—with derision and disgust. However, Daniel called her name without any negative reaction.

She felt a hand on her head and realized the boy was patting her gently. “It’s not easy here, is it?”

Those words alone were like a trigger. Violet felt tears come to her eyes.

“I-I’m sorry. I wasn’t trying to make you cry. Are you all right, Violet?” he asked, obviously taken aback by her tears.

The little girl realized that nobody had ever asked her if she was all right before. She began to weep without understanding why. This one gesture—Daniel asking her if she was okay—seemed to melt away all the pain inside her.

“I’m sorry. I should have talked to you sooner. You must have had a tough time,” Daniel said gently.

His kind words warmed Violet’s heart. She shook her head at the boy’s apology, marveling over how kind he was.

For the first time, she felt like she could let her guard down. He seemed to accept her as his sister, even though she was only a commoner. She finally began to feel like she belonged.

Violet stared up at him. His blond hair seemed to sparkle under the sunlight, and his eyes—the signature blue eyes of the Ermengarts—were darker in color than Violet’s own. As he smiled back at her brightly, Violet realized that there were actually nice young lords in this world after all.

“Fynn, what kind of a person is Lord— I mean, Daniel?” she asked later in her room.

The maid sat behind the little girl, brushing her hair. “Oh, you met Lord Daniel?” she asked with a smile.

“Yes, and I also met Lord— Um, Adrian.”

“I see. Lord Daniel is very kind, isn’t he?”

“Yes, he is.”

Violet felt a slight vibration of the brush against her head. Perhaps Fynn was chuckling. “He is a lot like Lady Ermengart, very kind and considerate,” the maid said. “I hear he used to be quite frail before I came here. But if it were not for him, Lord Adrian would be even more of a handful than he is now. The youngest lord might be running amok over the whole estate.”

“Really?” Violet recalled how Daniel deftly confronted Aiden as he hid behind her back. Indeed, the younger brother seemed to be scared of him, though she could not imagine how such an angelic boy could be frightening.

“Lord Daniel is quite intelligent as well. They call him a prodigy. I’m sure he will do great things for the kingdom one day. They say he’s already surpassed many adults in intellect,” Fynn continued.

“Is that so…” Violet suddenly felt proud that such an amazing person was her brother.

“I see you finally seem to have taken an interest in the family. I suppose we have Lord Daniel to thank, not that it’s any wonder.”

Violet wanted to argue that she hadn’t been uninterested before, just too scared. But she held her tongue as she did not want to get told off again.

Another individual suddenly came to mind. “What about Lord Ethelmund?” she asked.

“Oh my, Your Holiness. He’s your brother now. You should just call him Ethelmund,” Fynn responded.

Unfortunately, Violet could not bring herself to think of the oldest boy as her brother. Now that she no longer ate her meals with the rest of the household, there was no opportunity to run into him. Even when she did, she couldn’t figure out what he was thinking, and he only spoke to her with a distant coldness. With him treating her that way, it was difficult to imagine him as a brother.

“Lord Ed—I mean, Lord Ethelmund—is most like His Grace,” Fynn began.

“The marquess?”

“House Ermengart has produced great generals for generations. They are the swords of the king. Have you heard this before, Your Holiness?”

Violet nodded. It was one of the first things Viscountess Iskinder had told her.

“Lord Ethelmund is the heir to the marquess’s title. One does not just become the King’s Sword by being the eldest, you know. But Lord Ethelmund was named the heir at the age of thirteen and became a member of the Royal First Order.”

“The Royal First Order?”

“Yes. Imagine joining the Order at only fifteen years old. They only accept the most elite! Isn’t that amazing?”

Violet nodded again, as it seemed like that was the response the maid was after.

Fynn went on to praise Ethelmund as if he were her own son, boasting about his academic abilities and the kind spirit he possessed despite being outwardly so stoic.

Still, the little girl couldn’t shake her doubts. The Ethelmund she had met was just a young man with an expressionless face and cold attitude, a younger version of the marquess.

Kind spirit? I wonder where that could be. For a while longer, she was lost in thought.

***

Violet was shocked to find an array of beautiful dresses hanging in front of her. They were as lovely and colorful as any she’d dreamed of as a child. But even Sarah, the richest girl in her home village, had never worn anything like this.

She was overwhelmed. Each dress seemed to shine with a light of its own. She was too afraid to touch any of them, worried she would sully them.

“His Grace bought these for you,” Fynn explained.

Violet could not believe it. “Really? For me?” she asked, looking up at the maid.

“Yes, of course. You wore something equally pretty when you went to see His Majesty, didn’t you?” The maid bent down and whispered, “Let’s try them on.”

Violet nodded. She had been half in a daze when they’d gone to see the king. Too shocked by the sudden change in environment, she had merely followed the marquess there and back without paying much mind to what she was wearing.

Fynn picked out a buttercup yellow dress covered in cute frills. After helping Violet put it on, the little girl looked in the mirror.

The dress was very pretty, and just as fancy as the ones she had always dreamed of. But now that she was wearing it, she found it to be very uncomfortable. The bodice was bound tightly in an attempt to accentuate volume that wasn’t there, making it so Violet couldn’t breathe. The long skirt tripped her every time she moved, as well. She’d had the same problem before, staggering around the palace because of her dress’s trailing hem.

“Wow! You look beautiful, Your Holiness. You finally look like a lady,” the maid cooed.

Really? Violet thought glumly. The dress did not suit her at all. She wondered why the marquess had even bothered buying these fancy dresses for her. The sheer number of them overwhelmed her.

I wonder if noblewomen always wear these sorts of clothes… As she pondered, she realized the marquess must be trying to tell her that she needed to improve and make herself worthy of such dresses. Her face fell.

“Oh, the viscountess will be here soon. Let me go fetch some tea,” Fynn said as she hurried from the room.

In the opulent mirror, Violet stared glumly at her reflection. She almost couldn’t even recognize herself, but when she blinked, the girl in the mirror blinked back at her.

She truly looked like a little noble. But the dreamy giddiness that had swirled within her before trying on the dress had all but vanished. The fact that she would now have to wear these sorts of dresses all the time was depressing. She couldn’t imagine that changing the way she dressed would magically make her a noble lady.

As she closed her eyes, the door creaked open. The viscountess entered, immediately staring at her.

Violet looked up at the stern woman. While the viscountess was respectful, she was as cold as ice, and often quite mean.

Glancing at Violet’s dress, the viscountess reluctantly addressed her. “What are you wearing?”

Violet sensed her annoyance in her sharp voice. “The marquess sent these to me,” she replied. Nowadays, she could answer the viscountess’s questions more readily than before.

Despite the girl enunciating her words just as she was taught, the viscountess frowned, deepening the lines around her eyes. “You know why His Grace gave these to you, don’t you?” she asked.

“It seems he hopes I will work harder.”

“Yes, that’s right. I’m glad that you’re actually putting that head to use,” Viscountess Iskinder replied, still frowning as she approached the dresses. For a moment, even she seemed in awe. However, when she remembered who they belonged to, she scowled.

Violet almost jumped as the woman’s vicious glare turned to her. Though the viscountess was always cold, she seemed especially angry today.

The woman hung the dress she’d been examining back on the rack. “Let’s practice your walking,” she said sternly.

Violet paled, knowing that she still hadn’t once managed to walk correctly. However, she had to comply. She stood before the sofa where the viscountess sat, then began to walk with her shoulders slightly hunched. As she took careful steps, she straightened her back and lifted her chin, staring straight ahead.

While this was an improvement, the viscountess did not seem pleased. “Stop, stop!” she snapped.

Violet flinched as the woman produced a switch. Her heart pounded. It was exactly as she feared.

“Pull up your skirt,” the viscountess ordered.

Violet lifted her heavy dress slightly and took off her silk socks. Her pale legs were littered with red welts, as they had been for some time now. With a loud crack, the switch came down on her calf, gracing it with yet another red welt.

The viscountess was a very stern woman. If Violet made even the smallest mistake, her legs would receive another thrashing. But she endured the beatings in silence, believing the little improvement she had made was all thanks to the viscountess.

Violet had grown up being told that such beatings were the only way that she would learn, so she thought nothing of it. Rather, she was relieved when the viscountess pulled out her switch. Knowing that even noble children received such punishment made her feel closer to them. While it hurt, Violet told herself that the thin switch was much better than Madam Goethe’s thick wooden stick.

“I thought you might be difficult to educate due to your lowborn background, but I never imagined that it would take this long,” the viscountess chided as Violet hung her head. “Let’s practice dining etiquette next.”

It was Violet’s worst subject. This meant the woman was truly furious. The little girl looked pleadingly at the viscountess, but the woman merely glared at her.

The maids prepared a basic meal service. Sitting at the table, Violet glanced at the viscountess before picking up her knife and fork. The woman’s eyes blazed.

Violet trembled as she began eating, sure that she would be hit if she made even one mistake. Before long, the viscountess put down her knife with a clang. Violet jumped and looked up at her.

“What are you doing?! How many times do I have to tell you?” the woman shouted.

Violet dropped her knife. Though it did not make a loud sound, the viscountess was furious. “Pull up your skirt.”

Violet quietly stood from her chair and tugged up her dress. More lashes were added to her already swollen legs.

The beating was harsher than usual today, but Violet believed that she deserved it for being so incapable. It was better than what she got from Madam Goethe on Flower Street. Still, the skin on her legs was close to splitting.

“I will inform His Grace that you have been disciplined,” the viscountess said.

Violet bit her lip, feeling guilty for disappointing the marquess. Whatever she might think of him, he still took her into his household. She could already imagine him shaking his head with a sigh when he heard that she had to be punished so shortly after he had given her the beautiful clothes.

The little girl wanted to cry, but she knew she would be punished more harshly if she did. The viscountess was like Madam Goethe all over again.

“Do you believe the dress you’re wearing suits you?” the viscountess hissed. When Violet said nothing, she continued, “Do not show the servants your legs. That would be an embarrassment to yourself. Do you understand?”

Violet nodded.

“You are not to nod, Your Holiness. Such a gesture is only acceptable if you are speaking to the servants.”

“Yes. I understand, Viscountess,” the girl replied with a bow. Thankfully, the lesson seemed to be over.

After her tutor left, Violet sighed and sat down on the bed. Her swollen legs throbbed. She pursed her lips at the idea that the marquess would find out what had happened.

She wished that Daniel were here to improve her mood. He always comforted her so kindly. While she could never tell him that she had been whipped, he nevertheless reassured her that she was getting better.

Violet missed his warmth. To be honest, she still found it difficult to interact with a noble like Daniel. But besides Fynn, he was the only person she could rely on.

Her legs were swollen from the constant beatings. Though it was becoming harder to walk by the day, she told herself that she had endured worse before.

Fynn had still not returned, seemingly having some other matter to attend to. So Violet ventured out alone, hoping to find Daniel.

A cool breeze blew around the mansion as the sun began to set. Violet walked out to the garden. Almost immediately, she ran into Aiden as he swaggered past.

His eyes went wide when he saw her. Normally, Violet would have run away, but he was quick, and her dress was too heavy.

“Hey, commoner!” Aiden called as he closed the distance between them.