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

Perfection

How wretched is the Marriage State, whence ‘stead of Love springs mutual Hate?

He watched her.

William watched as she rouged her lips. The maid had long gone, leaving her hair fashionably coiled on top of her head, revealing her elegant swan-like neck. She really was the image of feminine perfection, inspecting her every angle in the mirror before her.

Violet would spend hours in front of it, ensuring that not one flaw would mar her fine features and porcelain skin. He loved to watch her perfect herself, arranging her curls so they framed her face and brought out her sky-blue eyes.

He tried not to think about the fact that she was doing none of this to gain his favour. William forced his eyes back down onto the page in front of him.

“Do not shame me tonight Violet” he murmured absent-mindedly, partially to hurt her. He felt her gaze upon him but would not meet it, a wry smile playing on his lips.

“William, please do me the kindness of never speaking to me again”

This, while it did not seem to be, was actually a positive development.

Violet had not uttered a word since their confusing altercation in the corridor outside of Amelia’s rooms. Her spewing vitriolic insults, was preferable to the frosty silence she had elected to impose upon them.

William was slightly concerned by the feelings he had experienced in the corridor. When he had seen his wife in tears he had wanted nothing more than to take her in his arms and kiss her until she realised…realised what? That she loved him?

He almost laughed out loud at the thought.

Lustful thoughts about his wife were nothing new. After all, she was the very image of faultlessness; he had never seen another woman rival her beauty. If one merely observed her, it was easy to forget that she was a soul-less harpy intent on his destruction.

At one point he had truly considered the notion that she might poison him.

“Are you finished?” he sighed, “The ball has already begun…”

“Shh!” she turned suddenly and held up her hand. William listened but could not hear anything. Perhaps his wife was truly insane…it would explain much of her behaviour.

“Have they gone?”

“Your parents?” he asked raising an eyebrow. The couples shared a sitting room and common exit from their chambers.

She gave a wide-eyed nod and he shrugged getting up and intending to open the door.

“No!” she hissed, jumping up and wrenching him away from the door with surprising strength for a woman of her stature.

“Violet! Have you completely taken leave of your senses?” William cried extracting himself from her vice-like grip.

He heard the Duke and Duchess faintly entering the sitting room and then as they crossed into the hallway their voices faded away to silence. William realised he was holding his breath and berated himself for buying into Violet’s ridiculous game.

“We may leave now,” she declared blankly, opening the door to reveal a very empty sitting room.

“What is going on?” he asked frustrated as Violet arranged his arm to entwine with hers.

“Must you create such an issue?” she frowned as though he were the one acting addled “I merely did not want to have to speak with Mother this evening.”