A devious grin spread across her face. “When I first had the idea, I hid a small shelf inside my desk. We’ll hang it above the door and balance the open bag of feed on it with the twine hanging in the doorway. After we close the door, we’ll cut the twine short and attach it to the top of the door, and when Miss Bonner opens it, the door will pull the twine and the bag will go with it.” She stood tall, proud of herself.
Roman laughed again, the sound warming Violet from the inside out. When they reached the gate to the chicken pen, Roman glanced at her over his shoulder. “Have you ever caught a chicken before?”
No.“Yes.”
He narrowed his eyes. “Liar.”
“Just open the door,” she snipped and playfully pushed him forward. The chicken enclosure consisted of a field of bright pink grass surrounded by a tall, netted fence with a large wooden coop at the very back.
The pink grass glowed brighter than the surrounding area thanks to the natural fertilizer. She could already imagine how pretty it would look in a flower crown.
She pushed the thought aside. They hadn’t the time for that now.
Roman held the gate open until Violet hurried through.He’s a gentleman, she thought.Unlike the other boys in school. Not that many talked to her.
They hurried toward the coop in the back, and Violet twisted her lips to the side at the sight of the wooden structure’s tiny door, barely big enough for her to wiggle through. “I’ll crawl in and chase them out one at a time,” she told Roman. “You catch them and give them one drop of the elixir.”
Roman crossed his arms and looked down at her. At fourteen years old, the prince already stood around six foot tall. “Why do I have to catch them?”
“Because you’re too big to fit through there.” Violet pointed at the chicken door. “Your shoulders would get stuck.”
He opened his mouth to object, but she held up a hand. “No arguing.” He held his hands up, but the smug look on his face raised her hackles. Deciding to ignore him, she shoved the elixir bottle into his hand. “Get the drops ready.”
Violet removed her cloak, got on her hands and knees, and crawled through the hole. With her eyes trained straight ahead, she chose to ignore the questionable substances on the ground. If she looked down, she might puke.It smells awful in here.
She stood and wiped her hands on her dress with no idea how she’d explain the stains to her mother.
Chickens stirred at the sounds of her entrance, and the air stilled as the birds took stock of the new intruder. It didn’t take long for them to erupt in a flurry of chaos. The chickens on the ground rushed at her, and those sitting in tiny hay-filled boxes ran down little ramps like soldiers on their way to war. She screamed and tried to evade them, but they were everywhere.How are therethismany chickens in here?
There were a lot of ways to die, but death by pecks was not one Violet had ever considered. Would they eat her alive if she hit the ground to crawl out? She should have brought the night drops inside and dosed them all.
A large door on the side of the coop opened and Roman stood on the threshold, trying, and failing, to smother his laughter with his hand. She gasped and ran toward him. “Run! They’ve gone feral!”
He grabbed both of her shoulders, flipped her around, and held her against his chest. “They think you’re going to feed them. Watch.”
Roman reached into a sack beside the door and threw a handful of seed into the middle of the coop. The ruthless predators ran toward the food and stabbed mercilessly at the ground with their razor-sharp beaks.That could have been me down there, she thought with horror.
Her erratic breathing evened out, and Roman’s body vibrated with laughter. Violet whirled around, wondering if pushing a prince on his butt was considered treason. “Why didn’t you tell me there was a door? You left me to the mercy of those feathered beasts.” She held up her hands and motioned to her dress. “And I’m covered in dirt.”
Roman’s laughter came harder, and she glared with all her might. The temptation to force the night drops down his throat and leave him with the chickens overwhelmed her.
“I promise I would never leave you in danger,” he assured her, still laughing. “I tried to tell you about the door, but you cut me off.” He plucked at her sleeve. “And I don’t think that’s dirt, princess.” She didn’t either.
“It’s not funny.” She tried to sound fierce, but his infectious joy had her joining in. Their laughter faded, and they stared at each other with goofy grins.
Roman rubbed the back of his neck and looked away. “Let’s fill your bag with feed and round up your chickens.”
Together, they chased four feathered demons outside, and when Violet tried to grab one, it launched an assault and pecked her arm. The thin sleeve of her dress ripped, and the bird’s sharp beak drew blood.
The screech that exploded from her would have been embarrassing if she wasn’t bleeding out.
“It got me!” she cried while Roman doubled over laughing. Gripping her arm, she backed away from the chicken who now strutted around like it hadn’t torn a chunk of her flesh. She lifted her hand, surveyed the damage, and wailed, “Oh gods, I’m bleeding everywhere.”
Roman’s laughter died a quick death, and he was by her side in seconds, forcing the chickens between them to scurry out of the way. “Shh,” he soothed her and turned a glare on the chicken clucking around their feet. Moving his attention back to her arm, he ripped open the fabric around her wound and, with gentle fingers, prodded the area.
Amused light brown eyes found hers, and her lips turned down. “This isn’t a joke. What if it gets infected?”
He struggled to compose himself and ran his thumb soothingly around the wound. “It’s barely a scratch.”
