Violet had told Roman that tidbit one night as she’d cried on his shoulder shortly after Titus left her. No one else knew. She was going to kick his ass, but first she needed to get to the bottom of this letter.
Without another word, she stood and stomped out of the candy shop with the letter clutched tightly in her hands.
* * *
War, who’d waited outside of the shop for Violet, trotted alongside her as she stalked toward the training arena. The beast, sensing her soured mood, cast worried glances her way.
She’d not been able to form enough words to tell him what his idiot bonded had done. He’d not only given Marissa the impression there was something between them, if even unintentionally, he’d also spilled her secrets, and now there was this blasted letter.
Roman loved her, and she knew that. She trusted him. But she’d also told him this would happen. Marissa wouldn’t stop until she either had him or was forced to leave. Well, she’d just earned herself the latter because Violet wouldn’t stand for the other woman’s constant challenge.
The letter crinkled in her fist.The nerve.
A guard at the gate of the training arena smiled kindly and started to say something, but with one look at her face, he snapped his mouth shut.
“I need to see Roman,” Violet said hotly.
“Yes, Your Grace,” the guard said just as Roman burst through the arena door looking frantic.
“What’s wrong?” he panted.
Violet glared at War. “You couldn’t let me surprise him this once?”
Roman’s hands clasped her face, but she batted them away. “Don’t touch me when I’m pissed.” She shook the letter. “What have you gotten yourself into?”
The prince looked at a complete loss. “I’m going to need a little more information, and fast.”
Violet held out the letter to read the contents. She would ensure every guard and warrior within earshot heard the lengths Marissa would go to. “Today I passed the pleasure house and thought of you. Specifically, of pushing you against the glass of my privacy box and winding your red hair around my fist while I fed you my cock from behind.”
Lowering the letter, she stared at Roman and noticed the muscle in his jaw flex. His expression no longer held confusion, but murderous intent.Wait.“Did you write this?”
“Violet, do not read another fucking word,” Roman warned her through gritted teeth. The guard who’d greeted her stepped far away from the prince.
She raised her chin defiantly, and continued, “Gods, it will look beautiful pulled tight in my hand. And with your my name on—”
“Enough!”Roman thundered, and her head snapped back.
“Did you just yell at me?” she demanded. “It’s your fault Marissa thinks you’re in love with her, not mine.”
Roman ripped the letter from Violet’s hand and she made a grab at it, but he held it above his head. “Every man within hearing distance will lose their head if you keep reading,” he warned.
Why?she wondered silently, then said aloud, “I wanted everyone to hear the lengths that woman will go to to come between us,” she stated calmly. “I want them to see how shameless she is.”
The warriors and guards around them seemed to lean in with interest.Perfect.
Violet was usually a kind person, but if she was to be queen, people needed to learn she would not tolerate disrespect. Hopefully, they wouldn’t hate her.No. She couldn’t think that way. Her days of being a people pleaser were behind her. Just look where that’d gotten her in the past: walked all over.
Roman stared at her like she’d told him War could fly. “Why would Marissa think I love her? I’ve given her no indication.” His eyes lowered to the letter and bulged. “What the fuck?” Emotions ran a gamut across his face. “I didn’t write this letter to her. I wrote it to you.”
Violet chewed on her lip, losing a bit of her bravado. How had Marissa gotten a letter meant for Violet? Addressed to Marissa?
“I wrote it right before I left for the border,” Roman mused to himself, “but not to Marissa.”
“Someone clearly intercepted the letter and, I don’t know, traced it and changed the name, hair color, and sign off.”
Roman’s eyes ticked to Violet’s hair. “Your hair is red, but I think you’re right.”
Violet picked up the end of her hair to inspect her auburn strands that were more brown than red. Men were clueless.
