Earning the Love of a Princess-Chapter 302: Violet: Gossamer and Steel

3 November, 1348. Thierre Manor, Duchy of Orravalo, Islia.

Her eyes were burning hot with fatigue, yet Violet couldn’t fall asleep.

Actually, it wasn’t so much that she couldn’t, but didn’t want to.

Every night, she’d meet with her twin in her dreams and it was slowly eating away at her. The sorrow, the guilt, the fury. The futility. They all merged into a potent brew that tormented Violet and allowed her to find no peace.

Every morning she’d rise from her bed almost staggering with exhaustion.

Lady Thierre kept barking at Violet to rest more and take naps. That it wasn’t going to help their cause if Violet showed up before the king and queen with a sickly pale face and eyes ringed by shadows.

"Their Majesties need to see a girl in robust good health! Otherwise they may doubt your ability to carry a healthy child through to birth." Lady Thierre had scolded more than once. "And if they doubt your value, where does that leave all of us?"

Violet never bothered responding. What was the point of telling her mother that sleep was no refuge for her? That she feared closing her eyes?

So there she lay in the darkness, huddled under blankets. The only sounds were the rain tapping against the window and Sancia’s deep, even breathing from the nearby bed.

Try as she might, she couldn’t elude sleep forever. It would’ve been well after midnight by the time Violet finally fell into troubled dreams.

When she blinked her eyes and looked up, she saw Ilse placidly sitting on their shared bed, as if she’d been waiting for Violet to arrive.

They were no longer in their childhood home. Instead, they were back in their bedchamber at Magdaline Castle, in the room where their relationship had fallen apart little by little.

Their growing estrangement made Violet think of how an autumnal tree sheds its beautiful red and gold leaves one by one. No matter how much the tree might want to resist and hold on to its foliage, it can’t halt the inevitable. Eventually all that remains is a bare, shriveled skeleton.

Had it been inevitable for the twins to end up so far from each other?

"Hello sister. I’ve been waiting for you." Ilse’s voice was clear and calm. Her eyes were bright and her creamy skin showed none of the rash or feverish redness of her last few days on earth.

She sat on the bed in the ivory gown she’d worn the night of Prince Leo’s woodland ball, the night that publicly announced her place as the court favourite. Violet remembered how the pale silk of Ilse’s dress had acted as the most wonderful foil to the coat of iridescent peacock feathers resting over it.

Violet eyed her twin warily even though she didn’t sound even a little angry.

Ilse sensed Violet’s hesitation because she patted the spot next to her on the bed. "Come now. Wipe that suspicion off your face and sit awhile. We have much to talk about, don’t we?"

Ilse’s words held their usual sweet tone but Violet noticed something else about it. A thin, gossamer thread of steel woven within her voice. It was doubtful anyone else hearing Ilse speak would’ve noticed the subtle difference.

But Violet did. In the weeks before Ilse’s death, she’d seen the steel behind the sweet facade. Too late she’d realised that Ilse had always carried a strength within her, that had remained hidden until she’d had no choice but to unleash it.

The same girl that Violet had always considered so weak and passive, had surprised everyone by being willing to cut both her twin and the man she loved from her heart. No matter how much it made her heart bleed, Ilse refused to compromise her principles.

She’d known how she wanted to be loved, how she deserved to be loved. Those who strayed from her standards were no good to her.

Violet approached the bed slowly and eventually sat down, never taking her eyes off her sister.

Ilse seemed amused by Violet’s reluctance. "Good heavens, sister. Stop looking like you’re about to sit next to a hungry jackal. You’ve always been the strong, brash one out of us two."

"We both know that isn’t true." Violet mumbled. "You ended up being far stronger and more resolute than I ever imagined you could be."

"I’m glad you finally noticed." Ilse looked pleased with her sister’s words. "We left so much unsaid, you and I."

"Is that why you haunt my dreams every night? Because of what we left unsaid?"

Ilse laughed her familiar merry giggle. "Haunt? Is that how you describe it? Oh my lord. You’ve always been so dramatic."

Violet scowled at her. "You come to me every night and invade my sleep. I can barely get out of bed in the mornings because I’m so tired. What else would you call it if not haunting?"

"Tell me then, Violet. Am I ever mean to you in your dreams?" Ilse asked. "Do I yell at you, threaten you? Attack you?"

"Well, no..."

"Then you can hardly describe it as haunting, can you?" Ilse said, suddenly sounding very practical. She pushed her hair back from her shoulder, the long, sandy waves streaked with honey and gold that Violet had always envied. It was strange to see Ilse without her hair braided and veiled. With her hair tumbling loose, she made Violet think of a bride.

Leo’s bride...

"When you had the fever, could you hear me?" Violet’s voice trembled.

"Of course I could. I heard everything. Sancia’s whining, our bitch of a mother, the Last Rites. Everything." Ilse nodded. "But I heard you most clearly of all. You were a constant at my side, till the very end."

Violet felt tears pooling in her eyes. She felt like she’d done nothing but cry these last few weeks. "Did you fight it? The fever, I mean. Did you want to defeat it and live? Or did you just give up?"

"You’re asking me if I had the power to decide whether to live or die. None of us really have that choice. Our fates are already decided."

"But if you did have the choice. What would you have wanted?" Violet insisted.

"What I wanted was to live happily with a man who loved me and only me." Ilse’s smile turned a little sad. "I guess some dreams are impossible, aren’t they?"

"You could’ve found another man to marry, a better man than Leo. If you’d lived, you could’ve found this love you speak of." Violet’s voice turned hard. She realised she was angry with Ilse, so angry that she’d just given up and died.

She was furious that her twin had left her to face the terrible consequences of their actions alone.

"Does that kind of love even exist, though? Maybe I was searching for the unattainable all along." Ilse didn’t seem at all offended with Violet’s angry tone. She was in a place beyond all earthly worries and woes.

"Besides," Ilse said with a crooked smile. "If I had found true love, even if it had been with a bandit or a gravedigger, you would’ve been jealous of that. You would’ve hated me for finding happiness and love in my marriage, even while you wore a queen’s crown. You would’ve resented me for being the more cherished wife, even if I’d been dirt poor. That’s just your nature, Violet."

Violet opened her mouth to argue the point and then shut it again.

Neither sister spoke for a long while. Eventually, Violet found the courage to ask, "Have you forgiven me, Ilse?"

"Have you forgiven yourself?"

Violet pressed her lips together and shook her head. "No. But then I think to myself that if I hadn’t tried to steal Leo, I couldn’t have lived with you marrying him. I’m sorry about how that sounds but it’s the truth."

Ilse nodded as if she expected nothing less.

"So what was I supposed to do? Watch you triumph or try to get ahead myself?"

Ilse huffed a little laugh. "This triumph of mine you speak of. You mean marrying a man who had been and would continue to be unfaithful to me? Do you really think that would’ve been a victory for me?"

"You would’ve been Crown Princess of Islia, sister!"

"And you think that would’ve compensated me for all the heartache?" Ilse rolled her eyes. "Given how much you’ve always hated Mother, it always surprises me when I see how similar the two of you are in your thinking. Now I suppose you’ll find out for yourself what marriage to a man who doesn’t love you, feels like."

"You really think the prince will want to marry me?"

"Want to? Probably not. But have to? Perhaps." Ilse replied cheerfully. "If Mother has her way, then yes, you’ll be married to Leo. You’ll be a princess and eventually a queen. She’ll be delighted at least. Won’t you?"