Roman said his goodbyes and signaled for Slayton and Marissa to follow him out. Slayton hugged Violet one last time, but Marissa left without looking back.
Violet’s father pulled her into another hug. “Please do not think our concern for Vivian means we are excusing what she’s done to you, monkey. I am ashamed to call her my daughter, but sheisour daughter, and the last thing we want is to see her dead for a selfish mistake.”
Violet leaned into his chest to convey her understanding. She had no plans to ever speak to Vivian or Titus again, but she couldn’t bring herself to watch them die, either.
18
TWENTY-THREE YEARS OLD
Violet hurried down the sidewalk toward the pleasure house, eager to watch tonight’s show. Two of her favorite performers would be on stage, and she didn’t want to miss it.
Roman said he’d meet her there after meeting with the council. Word about Vivian breaking the mate bond had spread like wildfire, and the fear and unrest amongst the kingdom’s citizens hit an all-time high. Personally, Violet thought the reasoning strange.
So what if a royal at their full power could glamour an entire kingdom? There had never been a large enough scale attack to warrant that level of protection. I guessfamiliarswere useful because they could spy undetected, assuming they weren’t a giant like War. Imagine a great tigon tromping through the Desert Kingdom for intel.
The gods likely had a good reason thousands of years ago—perhaps a lot of unrest in the early settlements—but now it felt stupid. Unfortunately, royalists believed the royals had the blood of gods running through their veins and that the gods would rain hellfire on the world if they dared taint their godly blood.
All hogwash, if you asked Violet, but it didn’t matter what she thought. There were enough of them that they’d spread fear throughout the Tropical Kingdom.
A man she’d never seen before stepped in front of her. “Violet?”
She pulled up short, almost crashing into him. He looked to be around ten years older than her twenty-three years, with pale skin, and light brown hair peeking out from under his brown, wide-brim hat. “Yes?”
He took his hat off and raked a hand through his hair. “I don’t mean to bother you.” He waved his hand across the street. “I saw you walking and just wanted to introduce myself. Paul.” Paul stuck his hand out.
Violet shook it, feeling awkward. “It’s nice to meet you, Paul.”
“Look, I’ve been through what you have,” he started, his words coming out in a rush. She tensed.I can’t deal with this again.“My wife had an affair with my best friend and left me and my two kids,” Paul went on, replacing his hat. “If you ever need someone to talk to or have a drink with, I’m a good listener.”
Violet would like to say this was the most awkward thing she’d encountered since her sister ran off with Titus, but that would be a lie. People stopped her often, offering her words of pity, encouragement, or vitriol, depending on if they mistook her for Vivian or not. The latter were the worst. She’d considered wearing a sign around her neck that said, “VIOLET. NOT VIVIAN.”
“Thank you, Paul, that’s very kind of you.” She nodded in the direction she was headed. “I apologize but I have to go. I’m meeting someone.”
Without waiting for his reply, she hurried off. Something else she’d learned: if she tried to carry on a conversation to be polite, it either never ended or it gotweird. She’d rather not stay to find out.
She heard Paul cry out behind her, followed by a loud crunch. Momentarily distracted, she tripped on a loose cobblestone and went tumbling to the ground. Something snatched her out of thin air seconds before her face collided with the hard ground.
“Gods, princess, are you trying to give me a heart attack?” Roman mumbled as he put her back on her feet and started to fuss with her twisted skirts.
“Quit, you mother hen,” she chided and pulled her skirt from his grasp. “And thank you for saving me. One of the stones is loose and I caught my toe.”
He dropped to his knees, already reaching for her feet. “Let me see.”
She brushed him off, tucking her foot under her dress. “My toe is fine.”
He glanced at her from his spot on the ground, face level with her chest due to his massive form, and a small spark flared in her heart; something she’d thought Titus had smashed to bits. A movement over Roman’s shoulder caught her interest, and she gaped at Paul moaning on the ground, his face bloodied.
“Oh my gods,” she started toward him, but Roman stopped her. “He’s still alive.”
She balked at her friend. “I’d hope so. What did you do to him?”
“What I had to,” Roman responded, refusing to look away from her. “He won’t bother you again.”
“You cannot go around smashing people’s faces for speaking to me,” she insisted, secretly thrilled at his obvious jealousy.What is wrong with me?
His brows rose. “Yes, I can.”
“Roman,” Marissa’s grating voice called from across the street, making Violet want to scream. The woman popped up everywhere, and it drove her crazy.
