Deep lines formed between his father’s brows until his face paled. “Where is Vivian now?”
“Vivian?” Roman’s face matched his father’s. “How would I know?” A pause, followed by hope. “Do you think she broke the bond?”
A triumphant smile tried to tease Roman’s lips, but he pushed it down, too scared to truly hope. He connected with War and told him to find Vivian.
He reached inward for Vivian’s emotions, but they were gone. Not even a whisper of her remained.
Opening his eyes, he stopped fighting his grin, and his mother gasped, covering her mouth. “She either married another or she’s dead,” he confirmed, answering the question on both his parents’ faces.
And he cared not which one.
17
Roman pounded on the door to the Maekins’ cottage with his parents at his side, but no one answered. Racing around the house, he climbed through the laundering room window and searched every room.
He stopped short when he entered Vivian’s bedroom. Tidy, as always, but nothing adorned her desk or weapons rack. Moving quickly, he opened her drawers to find them completely empty. His plan worked; she’d married her lover.
Roman left the empty house and met his parents on the porch. “No one’s here and Vivian’s room is bare. Did she have her trunks delivered to the palace already?”
“I’m unsure,” his father replied, “but we need to find her. I’ll have someone check with her sister.”
“I’llcheck with Violet.” Roman switched course toward the stables. He rubbed at his chest. It felt strange to not have Vivian’s unwelcomed emotions as background noise after years of trying to tune them out.
“Roman.” Something in his father’s tone made him stop. “Try not to look so happy.”
Roman looked past his father to his mother, who was grinning like a child in a sweets shop. He winked at her and nodded to his father without a word. He could no more hide his happiness than he could deny his love for Violet.
Whether Vivian was dead or married, he didn’t care if it meant the bond no longer existed. His cheeks hurt from smiling. When was the last time he’d openly smiled over something that didn’t involve watching Violet? Years. He knew he deserved hell for his apathetic thoughts, but they couldn’t be helped.
I will suffer the deepest ring of hell if it means one lifetime with her.
At the stables, his mother took her horse from the stable hand and shooed him away when he tried to help her mount.
His father rubbed his forehead with a heavy sigh. “I’ll inform the council.”
War appeared from the direction of the training arena with Tilly, his mother’s lorixfamiliar,running beside him. Lorix were small monkeys with big round eyes and light blue fur. They looked harmless, but their venomous incisors and claws grew when aggravated. Vicious little things.
* * *
Violet stared at her ceiling, still groggy from sleep. The sun shining bright through her window indicated she’d slept later than usual. The perks of having the day off. A soft knock on the front door startled her, and she sat up in bed, her heart beating wildly.
She took a moment to gather herself, breathing deep. With her father’s help, Violet had successfully begun combating her need to hide at the slightest sound. During their self-defense trainings her father insisted on strengthening her mind. He claimed knowing how to defend yourself from ailments of the mind was just as important as knowing how to protect yourself.
Violet still hid under her bed from time to time, but the impulse lessened with each passing day.
The knock sounded again, and she crept into the front room to peek through the curtains. A man in the post carrier uniform stood on her porch with his hands behind his back.What in the world is a postman doing here this early?
“Good morning, Miss Violet,” he greeted when she opened the door. “I was asked to deliver this to you.” He held out an envelope with her name on it.
“Thank you,” she said with a polite smile and glanced at her post box, wondering why he hadn’t left it there. She’d never had a post carrier knock before.
Understanding her silent inquiry, the man motioned to the letter. “A man came into the post yesterday and paid extra to have his missive delivered to you directly this morning.”
She recognized Titus’ sloppy handwriting and frowned. Why would he mail her a letter yesterday when he could have given it to her himself?
Violet thanked him and shut the door. The letter burned her palm as she walked into the kitchen to put a pot of water on to boil before tearing open the envelope with a pounding heart.
Violet,
