A Fine Line (Being Rewritten into The Pursuit of a King)

Expectations

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Violet had formulated her plan for revenge on the extremely long and tiresome journey from Rington to the castle. Of course William being the absolute waste of oxygen that he was, would be no company so she decided instead to prepare her mode of vengeance.

As soon as they had arrived she had given Amelia the usual sisterly greetings expected of her. The poor girl was looking as plain as ever, which only served to reinforce Violet’s complete faith that if she were available the Prince would have been hers. As soon as she had dispensed with the pleasantries she set to the task of convincing everyone in the vicinity that she was an absolute beacon of light in an otherwise dull world.

“Oh Lady Houghborough I do love your hat!” she exclaimed holding tightly to William so he couldn’t escape

“The amount of feathers are certainly quite a statement!”

William was being of absolutely no assistance as they made their way through court, Violet stopping every so often to allot a compliment or two where she deemed it necessary. He knew his wife was utterly ridiculous, but in her defence she did know how to easily and quickly gain favour.

Even now eyes followed her, whispering and murmuring. If Violet were not to be loved, then she would not be forgotten.

“Will you’re not even trying!” she hissed once they had retired to a quiet corner of the great hall.

“I wouldn’t want to interrupt your campaign to leave me” he replied impassively detaching himself from her.

It was true. Throughout their turn about the room William had been silent and intimidating. It only served to infuriate Violet who had seen him turn on his charm many times before. Infuriating her was one of his favourite pastimes.

However, seeing her now in her natural habitat seemed to pick at old wounds. William had long thought Violet had lost the capacity to hurt him anymore, yet seeing her radiance charming strangers as she had him, seemed to sting.

“Oh you’re impossible!” she muttered shaking her head “I’m going to find Amelia and Mama”

As he watched her stalk off, her face recomposed to reflect serenity, William sighed. He was beginning to think that the only real Violet was the one that was perpetually angry. All the rest of her moods seemed fabricated for the benefits of others.

William wondered if he would prefer it if Violet put on these airs for him, or if in fact it was better this way because at least they were honest.

***

Violet was in an absolutely terrible mood by the time she found her sister and was directed into her chamber. She didn’t have any idea what was wrong with William these days. She knew that he was not completely useless socially yet he insisted on being difficult.

He must completely loathe her and wish her to be miserable. Violet never understood why he would go out of his way to vex her. They were two strangers forced together through circumstance, the least they could do was band together. Never mind she would cheer herself up the best way she knew how.

Positively beaming at her sister and mother she threw open her wardrobe and carefully extracted her gown presenting it to them. Violet could see that they were impressed by the exquisite dress she had commissioned specially. The material was of the most superior quality and cost as much a three of her ordinary dresses.

She looked up expectantly at her mother. The Duchess had always been a cold woman but even she could not admonish the great effort Violet had gone to.

“Well Violet that certainly is very…expensive looking” she smiled weakly and Violet felt a lump rise up in her throat.

She internally scolded herself for being so affected. It was just a stupid dress after all, did she suddenly expect her mother to fall at her feet and declare her appreciation?

“And what will you wear Amelia?” Violet asked. Her sister always had the tendency to dress rather plainly and she knew she would shine in comparison. This thought gave her a small feeling of pleasure.

She did not even listen to Amelia’s answer but merely toyed with her gown. Suddenly Violet saw her mother rummaging through her gowns and the dormant fury she was housing reared its head.

“Mama what are you doing?” Violet was on the edge of tears yet her voice came out as a shriek “Amelia cannot wear one of my gowns! The dressmaker made them especially for me!”

Violet hated how childish she sounded but the dresses had suddenly become the last true things she owned. She had spent hours choosing each one and now her mother would take them from her, for Amelia. Would she be expected to give up all of her possessions? Would her mother make her a ladies maid next?

“Violet!” her mother snapped, “Everything this family has worked and prepared for depends on your sister marrying the next King of Elereld! In two days time when Amelia and Prince Henry have exchanged vows and she stands to become Queen, then you may have your attentions. For now, all eyes must be on your sister.”

Violet felt resentment twist violently within her.

Her mother had made no secret of her great love for Violet’s younger sister, but never had she stated it so candidly. In that moment she hated her mother, her sister, her whole family, for shoving her so cruelly to the side while they doted on Amelia.

“Well mother” she spat “if you had not married me off to the first man that glanced at me, perhaps I would be the one marrying the Prince!”

Violet waited until she had slammed the door behind her and was in the safety of the corridor before she let the tears fall. She gripped the dress that she had tacked all her hopes to and cried.

She was more hopeless than she’d ever been, even though she had fought it every step of the way she had consented and married William. Violet had clutched onto the hope that perhaps the next time she saw her mother she would give her at least a nod of approval for her efforts.

“Violet I’ve been waiting for…Violet?” William suddenly appeared beside her looking concerned and slightly afraid. In the time they had been married he had never seen his wife cry. Scream, shriek, and screech yes, but never cry. He didn’t know what to do, he wanted to take her in his arms but didn’t know if he could.

Seeing her shaking with sobs looking up at him with those big, blue, mournful eyes pushed him over the edge. He took her and crushed her to his chest, wrapping his arms around her and holding her tightly. William stroked his fingers through her hair as she continued to cry.

“Violet what’s wrong? Was it your mother?” he whispered.

She suddenly ceased her tears and shoved him away from her furiously.

“No! It was you. This is all your fault!” she cried wiping her tears away angrily “I’ll never be rid of you!”

“Oh Violet grow up” he retorted, stung by her sudden rejection.

“I hate you William!” she snarled before storming off in the opposite direction, coincidentally also the complete wrong direction.

He sighed and brought his fingers to his temples. He felt so foolish for falling for Violet’s charms yet again.

Each time she looked vulnerable he would be fooled into thinking she was a normal woman and then she would turn around a throw it back in his face.

He preferred it when she hated him. It was less confusing.