Earning the Love of a Princess-Chapter 337: Violet: Reasons to Pine

11 May, 1359. Magdaline Castle, Islia.

The morning was cloudy as Violet walked back to her rooms from the chapel. She was in a dark mood and the passing courtiers all gave her a wide berth, as if sensing her low spirits.

Springtime was well and truly upon the land and the jousting tournaments were in full swing. There was something about the season of budding new life, however, that left Violet feeling melancholy every year.

It always made her think of those lost to her - her sisters, whose lives had been cut down in their prime. Pretty blooms crushed into nothing by the uncaring people around them.

Spring also reminded her of what she’d lost in herself - the hope and optimism she’d once had.

She’d been forced to bury that Violet long ago and become colder and more calculating, to avoid being broken to pieces by a vicious court.

The last few weeks had been especially difficult. She’d been forced to keep her head down and mouth shut since her terrible argument with Leo about the foreign princesses. Her resentment still smouldered silently.

Not that Leo cared. As her husband, he believed he was right by default and that’s all there was to it.

Princess Sarai had left the court a few days earlier. There had been no announcement made of a betrothal with William. Violet knew better than to ask King Edward why, though. She knew she was lucky to have escaped any blame to date for that failed betrothal.

Violet was so deep in thought that she stopped paying attention to where she was going. When she crashed headlong into someone, she was nearly knocked to the ground.

She looked up, ready to snap at whoever had been so careless as to not get out of her path first. She blinked in surprise when she realised she was standing in front of Prince William.

Even more surprising, he was alone. Violet very rarely saw William without at least a couple of friends at his side. Most of the time, that included the vulgar young brute who was the son of the Earl of Rhie.

"Good morning, my little cousin." Violet would always refer to him in that way. It was her way of reminding him that he’d never be anything but a silly young lad in her eyes. Even if that lad was now a talented knight and jouster who towered over her.

"Violet." he muttered as he bowed his head, then swerved around to start walking around her. He kept his head ducked down, clearly having no desire to linger. There was something about his sullen, downcast air that drew her interest.

So of course she wasn’t going to just let him escape.

Violet stepped into his path again, as nimble as a rabbit. "We haven’t talked in quite a while. Are you well, William?"

"I’m always well, Princess."

Typical cocky reply, she thought. Except anyone who truly looked at the prince would see he wasn’t well at all. His eyes were hard and icy cold, with dark smudges under them. His lush mouth was pressed into a thin line and his entire frame was tense.

Shouldn’t William be celebrating having avoided getting stuck with Sarai, she wondered? Hadn’t everything turned out in his favour?

And yet, he now stood looking like a man ready to unleash his temper on some unsuspecting victim. So very much like his late father.

Violet stared up at him. "Is that so? Because you don’t look well." There was a sense of defeat behind William’s suppressed anger.

Silence.

"Might as well stop lying and tell me what’s wrong with you. Are you... oh my lord, William! Are you pining for her? Still?" Violet asked him.

She didn’t even need to say her name to get a reaction out of him.

"No!" he bit out.

"You are!" she exclaimed. "You absolutely are. What do you think you’re doing, pining for a woman, of all things?"

"I’m doing no such fucking thing! I told you I’m well." William growled, sounding uncannily like Johan. "I also don’t care to continue with this conversation!"

"Tell me. When did things turn so sour for you and the Moraigthian girl? A few weeks ago, you couldn’t keep your hands off each other in that corridor near the north gardens. What’s changed since then?"

Violet knew she’d struck a sore spot. William’s eyes widened and she didn’t miss the bitterness that flashed across his gaze ever so briefly.

"You saw us?" he groaned.

"Oh, don’t worry about that. I can keep your secrets." Even Violet was amazed at how easily that lie rolled off her tongue. "But now the two of you don’t speak anymore. And at dinner, the chit won’t even look at you. So, something must’ve happened between you two."

William turned even redder and he looked at his feet. "She found out, uh... that, well, I see... or at least I have seen... others."

"Others?"

"Other women!" he hissed, then shot Violet a pained look. "She took it rather badly."

Violet gave a snort of laughter. "Really? She must be the slowest of women if she’s only just discovered your appetite for others. I thought everyone knew about all the whoring you and your friends partake in."

William’s eyes narrowed. Not because he seemed to care she’d accused him of whoring, but because he seemed tempted to speak up and defend the foreign girl.

How interesting, she mused.

Out loud he said, "Camilla is not slow at all! She’s..." his voice trailed off.

"She’s like every other woman then. She doesn’t fancy the idea of sharing a man with others." Violet asked. "Why did you think she’d be any different about it?"

"I didn’t! I just - just..." The young man shifted his weight to his other leg, looking more flustered than she could ever remember him looking. "I don’t really understand what... what she actually wants. What does she want me to do - promise her something impossible?"

"You mean like fidelity?" Violet replied in a snide tone. "Yes, you’re right. Fidelity is something impossible for any man from the House of Devon to promise a lady, isn’t it?"

William stepped back from her as if she’d spit on him. The mixture of emotions crossing his usually impassive face was fascinating.

The lad had almost every other wench at court following him around and panting with desire. He just had to go and fixate on the only one who didn’t want him, didn’t he?

Why are men so useless?

Violet had asked herself that question so many times over the past decade. She had yet to find a satisfactory answer.

"I’m going to give you a piece of advice, little cousin." she finally said. "Take it as you will. But I think you’d be a fool to ignore it."

William nodded obediently. The light of hope that sprang into his eyes, as if he really trusted her to solve his problems for him right then and there, was nothing short of pitiful.

"Get that girl out of your mind and heart. The sooner, the better." Violet tipped her head as if deep in thought. "The way to do that of course, is to lie with her. Just once or twice and you’d be amazed how quickly a man like you will lose interest. I’m surprised you haven’t already."

William blinked at her, biting his lip and saying nothing. That look told Violet everything.

It meant the foreign chit still hadn’t lain with him.

Instead, she’d managed to hold onto her virtue while forcing the handsomest young man at court to dance to her tune, reducing him to an infatuated fool.

Violet hated to admit it, but she was impressed.

"And once you’ve lain with her and discarded her like all the others, never let another woman humble you like this, William. Don’t think about anything beyond a romp, don’t think about affection and certainty not about love." Violet finished. "Our kind of people aren’t meant for love. Remember that and thank me later."

Without waiting for a reply, she walked away in a swirl of gleaming skirts, satisfied with her words.

William would be too stubborn to listen to her. Useless and pathetic, like every other man.

Nevertheless, she’d spoken the absolute truth. There truly was no room for genuine love in royal circles. Only for wealth, prestige, power, duty.

Only for endurance.

And out of nowhere, a sweet voice echoed in Violet’s head.

We’re all made for love, Vy. Made to love and be loved. There’s no greater goal in life than that.

Isle had believed that with all of her heart, and look where it had gotten her.

She’s dead while I’m still alive and I’ll be Queen of Islia one day, Violet told herself. I’ll be the most powerful of women and she’ll remain nothing but dust.

In the long run, I was proven to be right. Love can’t flourish here.

Is being right, enough?

It’ll have to be enough, she told herself as she set her shoulders back and raised her chin, striding through the corridor. All this sacrifice has to be worth it, otherwise I’ll drive myself mad thinking about what I’ve lost.

She also had much to prepare for. The Banquet of Love was only a day away and she needed to check on the seamstresses’ progress on her dress. She was determined to be the most spectacularly gowned lady at the event.

I can’t dwell on the price I’ve paid to get here. My heart has already broken enough times.