Violet sucked in a sharp breath at the truth in her sister’s words. Not only had the rebels thought she was Vivian, but being mistaken for each other had happened their entire lives. A lot of people in the capital knew Vivian and Violet were twins, but there were still people who approached her thinking she was Vivian, especially now that everyone knew Viv would one day be queen.
Every time it happened, Violet debated coloring her hair.It wouldn’t change her face, but at least it would help distinguish her from the prince’s esteemed mate. She never followed through because she liked her hair—a perfect mixture of her mother’s bright red and her father’s black.
“What is your problem?” Violet tried to demand hotly, but to her chagrin, her voice wobbled with embarrassment. How dare her sister try to embarrass her this way? Vivian hadn’t almost died. Violet had.
Roman gently grabbed Violet’s shoulders and stooped to her eye level. “Hey. No one is going to hurt you. I promise.”
Violet slid her gaze from Viv to Roman. He shouldn’t make promises he couldn’t keep.
“Dad wants to train her to defend herself, but Mom won’t let him because of how skittish she is.”
Dad wants to train me?He’d never mentioned anything.
Vivian’s lip curled with disgust. “Everyone walks on eggshells around her, and I’m sick of it.” War growled again and positioned himself in front of Violet,encouragingVivian to move back, and judging by the look on Roman’s face, he wanted to rip Vivian’s head from her body.
I hate you, Violet wanted to scream, even if her words held no real truth. Their parents told her healing didn’t have a time limit, that she’d been through a great ordeal and they understood. Were they secretly as frustrated with her as Vivian? She wrapped her arms around her stomach, wanting to disappear.
“Enough.” Roman’s lethal command stilled the air. He gave his full attention to Vivian, and uncertainty flashed in her eyes. “You saw the dismembered body parts of the men scattered around my room, but Violet heard them getrippedapart. Do you have any idea what it sounds like to hear bones torn from their sockets as a man begs for his life?
“You might know how to defend yourself, but you’ve never been near a rebel. Your sister had one wrap his filthy fingers around her. You might be able to fight for your life, but you’ve never had to, and you haveno rightto tellanyoneto get over almost being murdered.”
Vivian’s face paled with Roman’s conviction, and so did Violet’s. She tried her best to block out the images that accompanied the memory.
Abe forcing his way under the bed.
War’s roar followed by agonizing screams.
War soaked in blood.
Body parts everywhere.
“You cannot begin to understand what she has been through,” Roman went on. “A queen must have compassion for their people. Not disdain because they perceive them as weak.”
Roman defending Violet threatened to rekindle the fire she’d worked so hard to put out. With one last glance in her direction, he motioned for War to follow him out. War licked Violet’s hand, growled at Vivian, and trailed the prince out of the cottage.
The air thickened with awkward tension, and Violet searched for words. But whatcouldshe say to her sister?Fuck you? Those were the only words that came to mind.
“I’m sorry,” her sister sighed. “I might not like you, but I do love you.”
Violet stared unblinking at her sister, unsure whether to focus on the fact that Viv apologized or the admission that followed.
While Violet had always known Vivian didn’t like her, the confirmation from the horse’s mouth stung.
“I don’t want someone to hurt you because of me,” Vivian explained, “and I get sofrustratedwhen you run and hide. If you continue on this way and you’re attacked, you won’t survive it.” With one last parting glance, Vivian grabbed a dagger out of her nightstand and left without a word.
Later that night, as Violet lay in bed, she couldn’t shake the feeling that Vivian’s words weren’t an apology; they were a warning.
* * *
Roman slammed his fist into the man’s ribs, relishing in the satisfying crunch of the bones giving way. The captive’s desperate pleas and gasping breaths echoed off the damp stone walls of the palace dungeon. The man’s screams melted like a calming balm over the shredded parts of Roman’s sanity.
Hit. Hit. Hit.Roman dropped his hands and stared at Kincaid, the rebel spy responsible for the attack that almost took Violet from him. Violet had told her father what she’d heard while hiding under Roman’s bed, and Edgar had relayed the information to the council. They’d apprehended the spy, a cook in the palace kitchens, and Roman had convinced his parents to keep the man alive under the guise of extracting information.
The council assumed by now the prisoner had died, but Roman had moved the man to an unused area of the dungeon and instructed the guards to keep the rebel alive and to mention his presence to no one. They didn’t dare question their future king.
Roman had been visiting Kincaid for years, determined to make him regret every decision leading up to the day he’d betrayed his kingdom.
The tremble in Violet’s voice as she asked Roman to stay rang in his ears, and he hit Kincaid again. The image of her peeking at him from under the bed as she told him she was scaredwouldn’t go away. He reared back and knocked the man unconscious.
