by Beth Reason
Chapter 9
Violet stood in another big, cold room and shivered. The dress her grandmother made her wear when she woke from her nap was not nearly as warm as her leathers, and when she asked for them back her grandmother's face got that white look again and she knew she would never see the beautiful suit again. The shoes she wore made loud clicking noises when she walked on the slippery floor, and though she liked the noise, they pinched her toes in together and made her feel like she was going to wobble and fall. She looked around at all the fancy things and saw another shiny vase that she wanted to touch, but her grandmother caught her looking and shook her head.
"You must wait with the decorum expected of a young lady," her grandmother said as she stood next to her.
"What's a decorum?"
"Decorum is aplomb. Poise. Grace." At the child's blank look, Irmara mentally added it to the growing list of things she'd have to teach her. By five years old, a child should know to stand still and not keep craning her head around to plan her next misadventure. Still, Irmara's lips twitched in a smile before she could school her features. She remembered Tenet being as curious as Violet.
Violet sighed and itched to go jump on the fluffy looking chair against the wall behind them. "Can I go sit?"
"May I," corrected Irmara. "And no. You are being presented to your aunt and uncle and your cousins and you will meet them standing tall and proud." The child looked unmoved. "Like your father would expect," Irmara threw in there. Though Violet's lip quivered for a second, the words did their job and she stood straighter and stopped fidgeting.
Irmara glanced at the large clock over the doorway of their receiving parlor and wondered what was taking Nada so long. She was about to ring for the butler when she heard Nada's nasally voice issuing orders to her children down the hall. Here we go, she thought to herself. She took a bracing breath and held her granddaughter's hand more firmly. "Remember, speak only after you are spoken to," Irmara reminded Violet as her daughter's family rounded the corner and entered the room.
Nada took two steps into the parlor and stopped so suddenly that Merle walked right into her back.
"Pardon," he said formally.
Nada didn't even notice. Her eyes were riveted on the girl whose hand her mother held. Her mother never held a child's hand, not even hers when she was small and injured and in need of comfort. She felt a pang of jealousy rip through her before she determined to ignore the slight. The girl herself was utterly fascinating. Her skin was dark, as if Tenet actually let her run free in the sun like a barbarian. Her hair was almost black and very shiny. Again, there was an unreasonable jealousy. Her own hair had always been a lackluster brown that hung in dull waves when it wasn't shelled, and she spent her life envying beautiful hair. But it was the girl's eyes Nada found both arresting and discomforting. It was as if they were assessing her, as if the child felt she had every right in the world to cast judgment on an adult. They were insolent, impudent, and all together offensive, and Nada sniffed and turned her gaze to her mother, glad that her own children were not so brazen and rude.
"Mother," she said.
Irmara had not missed the jealous looks Nada cast at Violet. How could she? Her daughter had never learned how to hold her emotions inside like a proper lady. Irmara felt the familiar bubble of disgust rise inside. "Violet, I present to you your aunt, Nada." Irmara held back her smirk at Nada's look of outrage. Violet should have been presented to Nada, not the other way around. Merle didn't do a thing to hide his own smirk behind Nada's back and Irmara felt another little glimmer inside. She greatly preferred Merle's company to just about anyone else's in her life these days. "Merle, I present to you my granddaughter and your niece, Violet Bradwin."
Violet squinched up her nose. "My name is Violet Lorne," she said to her grandmother.
Nada let out a little squeak of indignation, but Merle placed his hand on her elbow in a rare warning. "I am pleased to make you acquaintance, I'm sure, Violet," he said smoothly. "As you can see, your aunt is overcome with emotion." He squeezed Nada's elbow mercilessly until she got the message.
"Indeed," Nada said quickly, trying to save face. "I, um...I'm pleased to meet you, dear." It took all she had to show any grace towards Tenet's heathen.
Irmara's eyes sparkled, and only those who really knew her would have been able to tell that she was feeling genuine amusement at her daughter's discomfort. "And these children are your cousins, Violet."
Merle pushed his children forward at Irmara's nod. "Yes," he said, making the introductions his wife should have made. "I present to you your cousin Auger and your cousin Anka. They are not that much younger than you."
Irmara nodded. "They will make good friends. You can learn a lot from your cousins, Violet."
Nada's eyes went wide. "Mother! We discussed this."
"It won't hurt them any," Merle said, making his children walk forward to meet their cousin.
Violet bit her lip and looked at the two children in front of her. They were pale and looked tired. "Are you sick?" she asked Auger. He shook his head, and Nada snapped at her.
"They are perfectly healthy! Honestly, what a thing to ask." Nada shook her head in disapproval and looked to her husband. He was ignoring her completely, and her frown deepened. "Do you not find it rude to ask such a question, Merle?"
"Yes, Nada," he said automatically, even though he could not muster the outrage she seemed to always find in any situation. It was rude, and he would have chastised his own children. However, Violet was not raised with them. He was surprised she could stand still in a dress for all Bradwin had told him. "I believe our children may end up being a good influence on her."
Violet frowned. They were talking about her like she wasn't even there. She looked up at her grandmother, but the woman obviously wasn't going to defend her. "We had a girl in the village that was sick and had skin the color of snow like them, that's why I was just askin'."
Nada visibly cringed at Violet's rough accent. She shot her mother a look and was gratified to that Irmara was cringing as well.
"It is not polite to ask if one is ill," Irmara said to Violet, hating that Nada almost preened in her self satisfaction. "Now you must apologize."
"But Da always asks people if they're sick," Violet protested.
Nada snickered. "Da? Oh, Merle, did you hear that? Da, as if he's a farm hand!"
Violet looked at the woman who was supposed to be her aunt. She didn't like her one bit. "How are you s'posed to help if you don't know who's sick?" It was a very good point and she crossed her arms over her chest like Mumma did when she was arguing because that seemed to make people listen.
"Enough of this," Irmara said to the group before Violet said anything else to prove Nada's points. The very last thing her daughter needed was a bigger ego. "The child has a lot to learn, on that we can all agree. You cannot expect her to be able to change cultures in the span of one afternoon. It's a process." She looked to Merle for a little help.
"Yes," Merle said, picking up Irmara's silent plea. "And certainly now you can see the value in allowing Auger and Anka to spend time in Violet's education."
Nada spun to face her husband. "We have discussed this. I will not subject my children..."
But Merle knew his wife well and cut down her argument before it was made. "Think of how impressed your friends will be to discover that your mothering has made it possible for your children to help reform a heathen." He saw the calculations in his wife's eyes and knew that he'd won her over. Irmara gave him a look that said she was impressed, and he was slightly offended. Of course he knew which buttons to push. It wasn't as if his wife was either clever or difficult to read.
"Yes," Nada said slowly, the wheels of her brain churning. "I noticed the Phillips' looking over Auger at the garden stroll last weekend." She tapped the end of the folding fan she always carried against her teeth, an annoying habit she did whenever she was deep in thought, one that grated on Merle's last nerve. He looked to Irmara.
"Perhaps we shall sit and receive afternoon tea in the gazebo while the children become better acquainted?" Irmara suggested.
Nada waved a hand, still lost in thought. She was bound and determined to get Auger noticed by the nation's best families, and Merle's plan did make some sense. She followed her mother outside and down the cobblestone walk that lead to the large, white gazebo, and sat on the edge of the bench. "Do you suppose we should introduce the girl to society before she is tamed?"
Irmara had been ordering her butler to bring them their tea and cakes when Nada's words stopped her. She lifted a carefully shaped brow and shot her daughter her coldest look. "I would use caution with my wording if I were you," she warned. Tamed indeed!
Nada suddenly remembered that her mother was from a tribal life. She always forgot, mostly because she desperately did not want it to be true. But randomly throughout her life she had little reminders, and each time the knowledge always felt like a fresh blow. Suddenly warm and very uncomfortable, Nada flicked open her fan and began to furiously wave it in front of her face. "I simply meant that for Auger's sake, perhaps if we allow people to know what he's starting out with..." she waved the fan around and let her words trail off.
Irmara turned and finished giving instructions to the butler to allow herself the chance to cool down.
Nada knew she pissed her mother off. Good. Let the woman fume! It had been a very trying day so far, and Nada believed she was holding up nicely under the circumstances. It wasn't her fault Irmara was a tribal heathen. She sniffed loudly and turned to her husband. "For heaven's sake, Merle. You know I'm correct. If the Phillips are looking, then now is the time to begin Auger's championship. Why, you had already caught my father's eye by three, and Auger's closing in on five."
Merle called to the butler to bring a cask of wine as the elderly man was leaving the gazebo. "Yes, I remember," he said with a caustic bite in his tone. He would never lie and say she was his choice for a mate. But she was rich beyond words, her father was easy enough to get along with as long as he nodded whenever the old man spoke, and then, of course, there was Irmara. The Phillips were very well off, being in wheat and barley, and if his son could be matched with either of their daughters, it would mean a secure future for the boy. Auger was no prize winner on his own. He would need to do something grand to turn favor his way, and Merle had to admit, if the boy's influence on Violet could be documented favorably by society, it could go a long way to impressing the right people. He watched his son pick his nose for a moment and sighed heavily. His wife had a point, as bitter as that was for him to admit, and he didn't argue with her as he turned to wait for his wine.
Irmara watched Merle look longingly after the butler and she knew he was wishing they'd already brought out a cask of wine with them. She'd have to speak to him about the drinking. If there was one thing she would not tolerate under her roof, it was a drunk.
"Violet is not ready to be introduced into society," Irmara said. She knew Nada's reasonings and agreed with them from Nada's standpoint. By all rights, she herself should care enough about Auger to see him well matched, if for nothing else than to spare the financial drain he would be as an unwed adult. But Nada's attitude, and Merle's ready agreement, piqued her anger once again and she decided to be stubborn.
"But Mother, it's a very good opportunity for Auger," Nada said, unsure of why she had to explain things to the woman who had taught her everything she knew about society.
The butler came back out pushing a cart and Merle sat up straighter, his eagerness for the wine furthering Irmara's anger. "I will not have Tenet's child paraded around like some circus monkey!" she snapped at the group.
Nada flipped her fan open again as she glared at her mother. "Here we go again. Here we go choosing Tenet over everyone else."
Merle sighed and grabbed for the wine bottle before the cart was all the way in the gazebo. "Nada," he warned, not wanting to hear yet another rant against the brother who had been far too kind to her, in his opinion.
Irmara turned to watch Violet and the other two children. They were on the neatly clipped lawn under a shade tree, far enough away so they couldn't hear what was being said about them all. She wondered just what they would think if they could hear. They'd probably learn the way of things a whole lot sooner, she thought. Auger would learn that his parents thought very little of him and Violet would learn that they would sell her life to make the boring brat a good match. They would all learn just how much they would be used, these tiny little pawns of society. Feeling an uncharacteristic pang of guilt, Irmara passed over her tea cup and instead took a tumbler from the wine tray. She held it out and waited for Merle to pour, then she took a fortifying sip of the burning liquid.
"You cannot tell me you'd let such a great opportunity for your own grandson pass by," Nada said to her mother. "Don't make the same mistake twice."
Irmara was furious to the very depths of her core. How dare Nada say such things? How dare Nada use her failures with Tenet's championships against her? And how dare she let that sniveling brat she raised make her feel guilty? Irmara pressed her nails into her palm, feeling the stab and concentrating on that instead of the war within.
Merle saw the fire in Irmara's eyes for a brief second before she looked away. "That was a low blow, wife," he said almost under his breath.
Maybe she did push it a bit too far, Nada conceded to herself. But she did not want her boy suffering the same fate as Tenet. No one championed for him when he was young. No one secured him a match until it was too late. Her father was busy running the country and assumed her mother would do her duty to their boy. Her mother was far too busy dallying with the farm hands and playing doctor with the workers to pay attention to what was happening in her own home. As Nada got older, she realized just how badly Irmara had bungled things for Tenet right from the start. There were people who should never have children, and in Nada's opinion, Irmara was one of those women. She may have pressed her point in the wrong way, but that didn't make it untrue.
"I'm sorry, Mother," Nada lied. "But even you must admit there are certain similarities. Perhaps the girl is your second chance to help me do for Auger what you did not do for Tenet."
Merle was angry on Irmara's behalf, but he had to give his wife credit. She was right. He'd be damned if he said as much, though. If he so much as opened his mouth, he'd have to pick a side, and he'd suffer greatly no matter which side he chose. So he wisely kept his mouth too full of wine to speak. He wished Bradwin was outside and he could go off and discuss the politics he didn't really care about or the crop reports he cared even less for. He'd go off with Bradwin and discuss just about anything to get him away from the two women who were once again at each others' throats.
To everyone's surprise, Irmara rose without chastising Nada. "Violet, come and get refreshments," she called to the girl.
Nada frowned. "Yes, and you too, Auger and Anka," she called, annoyed but not surprised that her mother intentionally ignored them.
The children raced towards the gazebo. Actually, Irmara thought, only one child raced. Violet ran with a grin, her dress and hair bouncing behind in the wind she created by simply being lively. The other two stood, brushed themselves off, fixed their outfits, then walked sedately on the path towards the gazebo. Irmara wanted to run with her granddaughter. She wanted to take her hand and turn around and run across the grass in her bare feet until they got to the great fields of golden wheat and could play "catch me" in the tall rows through the afternoon. She wanted it so badly that she had to order her feet to remain in their shoes.
Violet reached her and stood panting. "Auger said a refreshment is a snack."
"Are you hungry?" Irmara asked, wanting to smooth the sweaty hair back out of the girl's face.
Violet nodded. "But I don't want anymore Yum Yum cakes. I had enough of those forever."
"Those were your father's favorites," Irmara said, pointing to a bench for Violet to take a seat.
&n
bsp; "Mumma said too much sugar makes you weak and slow." She reached out to take the glass from her grandmother's hands and took a sip of some kind of sour drink. She crinkled her nose and tried hard to swallow it without making a scene. Da would have considered it rude for her not to eat what someone gave her, but it was so sour she didn't plan on taking another sip.
"You don't like lemonade?" Anka asked, taking a seat on the edge of the bench next to Violet.
It was the first time Violet heard the girl speak. Her voice was very quiet, and she sounded very grown up for her being so small. "I never had it before."
Anka picked up her own glass and took a tiny, dainty sip. "We have it all the time here."
"Violet is from a place that does not grow lemons," Irmara told Anka, wondering if she'd ever heard the girl say so much before.
Anka made a small face, and in that moment she looked just like her mother. "That is silly. Everyone has lemons."
Violet shrugged and took a bite of a vegetable cake. "We don't have lemons."
"Well," said Nada. "You do now."
Violet didn't want lemons. She wanted home. The vegetable cake in her mouth suddenly tasted like rotten mush and she put the rest on her plate. The adults began to talk again and she looked at her cousins. Anka was small and quiet and very pale. When Violet had tried to get her to run in the grass, she gave Violet such an angry look that Violet gave up and left her alone to sit on the cobblestones. She had turned her attention to Auger, and while he did get up and follow her to a tree, he would not touch the weird caterpillar she found, even when she held it out to him. And he picked his nose. A lot. Now that they were getting a snack, they both sat just like the adults, with their backs straight and taking tiny little bites and tiny little sips. They weren't anything like her friends back home and she suddenly missed Beddick so much it ached.
"I don't feel well Grandmother," she said miserably.
Irmara was immensely relieved to have an excuse to cut the afternoon short and get away from her daughter. She stood quickly. "Yes, I imagine it has been a long day for you. Come, let us get you to bed." She tugged at Violet's hand, then they got out of there before Nada even realized what happened.
"Mother! You cannot walk out on tea!" she called after her mother. But Irmara completely ignored her and Nada watched the pair retreat into the house.
Merle poured another glass of wine. "I'm sure the little girl has had enough for one day," he told Nada.
Nada fanned herself, her cheeks hot with anger. "Well! Can you even believe that?" She pointed her fan to her daughter. "I do not want you to lower yourself to her antics, do you understand me?"
"Yes, Mother," the girl said, taking another tiny nibble of a vegetable cake.
"Auger, get your finger out of your nose and listen to me." Auger popped his finger out of its favorite place and looked at his mother. "You must teach Violet how to behave like a proper young lady. Both of you," she instructed.
"You already told us that, Mother," said Anka.
"I know. But now you have seen for yourselves just how desperately she needs your guidance. I want you both to make it a top priority to educate her whenever you see her acting inappropriately."
"Damn, Nada. They're just kids themselves," Merle said, swirling his wine in his nearly empty glass.
She whacked him on the arm with her folded fan. "Language! Really I do not know what has gotten into you today."
Merle sighed and knew it was a battle he could not win. So he poured himself another wine and didn't even try. As his wife continued to hen-peck their children he closed his eyes and wished the wine was stronger.
Inside Violet's room, Irmara brushed Violet's hair out of her face as she held her on her lap. "I know you miss your friends, but you really must give your cousins a chance."
Violet sniffed. "They don't like me."
Irmara was not going to tell the child another lie. "No," she admitted. "But take heart. I do not believe they like anyone." She gave Violet a conspiratorial wink that had the desired effect and made the little girl giggle in spite of her tears. "There's a good girl. Always put on a brave face, especially around those who do not like you."
"I want my Da," Violet whispered.
Irmara pressed her lips together. "So you have said."
"I just wanted to say it so you wouldn't forget."
Irmara said nothing more on the subject as she tucked her granddaughter into the large bed. "Now, you sleep. Tomorrow you will have lots of fun."
Violet's eyes perked up. "Doing what?"
"First, you will get a fitting."
"What's a fitting?"
Irmara smiled and fluffed the pillow behind Violet. "It's when a seamstress measures you to make you new clothes." When Violet opened her mouth to protest, Irmara quirked an eyebrow. "We already discussed the leathers, young lady." Violet bit her lip and nodded. "Good. Then after the seamstress leaves, we will have a stylist come." She waited for the girl to ask, and when she did, Irmara explained. "A stylist will come and cut your hair and fix those eyebrows and make your skin look light and fresh."
Violet frowned. "My eyebrows aren't broke."
"Broken," Irmara corrected. "And you're right, but they are indeed a mess." She smoothed her hand over the coverlet. "And then we'll have even more fun meeting your tutor."
Violet crinkled her nose. She knew what a tutor was. "Do I hafta have school?"
Irmara tried to retain her patience. "There is no such word as 'hafta', and if I need to tell you so, then yes, young lady, you most certainly do need school!" She rose and clicked off the electric light by Violet's bed. "Now, time for sleep. Trust me, you'll have great fun tomorrow."
Violet did not have great fun the next day. The seamstress poked and prodded and made her stand completely still even though she had an itch on her nose. The stylist came next and chopped off so much of her hair that she cried and cried because she was sure her Da wouldn't even recognize her when he came to get her back. Her grandmother had to spend a great deal of time calming her down, which made the stylist annoyed enough that instead of "fixing" Violet's eyebrows, she ripped out the hairs to make her suffer. Though her grandmother assured her over and over that the stylist was not, in fact, being mean, just doing her job, Violet saw the woman smile when she ripped the hairs out. She silently put a curse on the woman.
The first tutoring session was the last and most trying part of the day, for Violet and Irmara both. Irmara had personally selected a young and malleable man to be Violet's initial tutor, someone she could control who she could be certain would keep his mouth shut. It would be his job to take the hard edge off Violet. He would teach her the basics of her new culture, and be paid very handsomely with a match high above his station for keeping the details of whatever came out of her mouth private.
From their first introduction, it became clear that the task would prove to be far more difficult than either Irmara or the tutor, Bodi Canton, imagined. "I am Mr. Canton and I shall be your tutor, Violet."
Violet frowned. "Teachers are s'posed to be ladies," she said.
Bodi gave a small smile. "Not always. Now, your grandmother tells me you are from way up north, is that correct, Violet?"
"You hafta call me Miss Violet," she said. Bodi looked to Irmara who simply shrugged.
"Fine, Miss Violet it is. You may call me Bodi."
Violet's eyes went wide. "But I'm only a kid! I hafta call you Mr. Canton."
Bodi cleared his throat. "Ah, okay. You call me Mr. Canton, I'll call you Miss Bradwin."
Violet folded her arms across her chest. "My last name is Lorne. And you call me Miss Violet because I'm just a kid." She shook her head and looked to her grandmother, her expression clearly saying that she thought Mr. Canton was an idiot.
Irmara pressed her lips together to keep from cracking a smile. She had heard a similar exchange between her butler and the girl just that morning before breakfast. "In Violet's, um, 'culture', it seems an unmarried lady must be called
Miss and then her given name before she reaches her majority."
"I...see," said Bodi, not really understanding but deciding it was not worth arguing about any longer. "Miss Violet, Mr. Canton. Now that we have names all set, I believe I should begin by gaining an understanding of your educational level."
Irmara sighed inside. He was drab and dull and entirely far too handsome to be so boring. She stood and walked to the window to stare out while Bodi peppered Violet with questions. His warm voice droned on and Irmara let herself get caught up in a fantasy where he used that voice for a much more fun purpose. She tuned the two of them out until Violet demanded her attention. She spun quickly from the window. "I'm sorry, what did you say?"
Violet pointed at Bodi. "He says Grandmother is a witch!"
Irmara's eyes went to Bodi's and she squinted. "You have told the child I am a witch?"
Bodi shook his head fiercely. "No, ma'am! Of course not, ma'am!"
"She has no other grandmother," Irmara said coldly, wondering why she wasted her time fantasizing about such an insolent boy, no matter how smooth his voice might be.
Bodi sighed and went to loosen his tie before he thought better of it. He took a sip of water instead to gather his thoughts so he could explain. "While I am not precisely certain myself, it would appear that in the village from which she hails there is a matriarchal society placing some imaginary figure at the top of a pyramid of power, with the human embodiment of this..." he waved his hand around, searching for the right word, "goddess of sorts being a woman they call Grandmother."
Irmara gave a small nod. "I see. And you called this woman a witch?"
Bodi did not know why Irmara was so angry. "I cannot think of another word to adequately describe her position or place, especially since Miss Violet had indicated that there is an other-worldly power attributed to one in that position."
Irmara counted to ten in her head. The same things had been said about her own culture, even though they had no priestesses. It didn't matter to those who staunchly practiced the national religion. Anyone outside, even the others from known third worlds, who prayed to beings were not only frowned upon but openly mocked. She tried to tell herself the same things she'd said over and over through the years, that they only mocked because they didn't understand. Bodi was not making fun of her granddaughter, he simply did not know what he was saying and doing. She calmed herself down before she spoke.
"Mr. Canton, if you will not chose your words with more care then you will find yourself in sore need of a new job." Irmara ignored his hurt look and turned to Violet. "I am going to be more clear than Mr. Canton. Your belief system is different than ours, and you must keep your tongue and listen to what Mr. Canton is saying."
Violet's lip quivered but she did not cry. "Grandmother is not a witch."
"No, she is not. I'm sure she is a strong and powerful woman in her community. But we are no longer in that community. You must listen to Mr. Canton and not speak of your tribal beliefs."
Violet sniffed, her anger making her eyes bright and dangerous. Mr. Canton scooted back in his seat, and Irmara was silently elated that her granddaughter had so much power in her being. "So it's like hunting?" she said quietly after several uncomfortable moments. Mr. Canton gasped at the very word.
"Yes, Violet. It is like hunting."
Violet's little fists clenched. She didn't want to have to keep things to herself. She was supposed to learn all about them but they didn't even want to listen to anything about her.
"Violet," Irmara urged in a firm voice.
"Fine," the girl bit out, still shooting daggers at Bodi. "I won't talk about Grandmother."
"Very well. Continue your lesson, Mr. Canton."
Bodi swallowed hard and ran a hand over his hair. Witches and hunting? Just where did they find this poor girl? The enormity of the job in front of him was suddenly like a weight on his shoulder and he knew he had his work cut out for him.
By the time the sun was setting and Irmara dismissed Bodi for the day, everyone was exhausted, and Irmara agreed to let Violet take her dinner in her bedroom. She decided to eat with her granddaughter, and they sat at a very small table eating their vegetable tureen. Violet picked at it with her fork and kicked her legs under the table.
"You do not like vegetables?" Irmara asked.
"I want..." she was about to tell her grandmother she wanted some beef steak, but bit her lip. If her grandmother didn't want to hear about hunting, then she probably didn't want to hear about the spring culling of the livestock. "I like them fine," Violet said, sounding sad and tired but, thankfully, resigned.
Irmara was very proud that the girl remembered herself. She was learning. It would be a long process, but she was learning. "Then eat up like a good girl," she said, taking a bite of her own dinner. She gave Violet a pointed look, then smiled when the girl finally picked her fork back up and took another bite.
Violet swallowed the vegetables and knew she had to eat more. Her dress was itching her knees again and even though her grandmother let her take those awful shoes off when they got back to her room, she could still feel the line where the straps dug in across her ankle. She wanted meat. She wanted her soft slippers. She wanted her leathers. If she could just find where they were hidden, she could put them on and get out of the large cold house. She could find a horse and then click her tongue and be on her way home.
Those thoughts brought her comfort as she ate and took her bath. She thought of finding her leathers as she put on the frilly gown her grandmother made her wear to bed. She thought about a bow as her grandmother said good night. That might be hard to find, she admitted. She hadn't seen any bows around yet. And there were a lot of guards. Even if she did find a bow, she did not know if she was good enough to take out more than one guard. They were much faster than old sheep, after all.
Violet sighed. Maybe she could not get out. Then she just had to hope her Da would hurry up and get her himself. He should be there soon, she told herself over and over. And until then, she would pretend.
