Chapter 8: Emotions Are the Context for Everything

Chapter 8:
Emotions Are the Context for Everything

 

VIOLETTE WAS SURPRISED to hear her name, but when she realized why they were talking about her, the surprise turned to despair. Something terrible was unfolding right in front of her. She had to hold herself back from forgetting her manners and cursing them out.

She could have yelled at them for their stupidity.

“Do you even know how much you and your mother have hurt our lady? You don’t seem to understand your position,” one girl said.

“You barely have manners at all! Poor birth and poor upbringing, I suppose,” another girl said.

The girls had gathered around Maryjune in a secluded corner, hidden away from the adults. Last time, she’d been the one wielding bladed words at Maryjune, but hearing it from others made it clear just how disgusting they were.

Violette had assumed that no one would go after Maryjune without her egging them on, and the cheerful girl would naturally win them all over. But she was wrong.

This is a problem…

It wasn’t a very nice thought, but Violette wished they could have done their bullying somewhere else, somewhere she wouldn’t have had to witness it and feel like she needed to intervene. But…no. Knowing how she’d acted last time, she was in no position to judge anyone. Violette was the cause for this commotion, both in her past life and now. This wouldn’t be happening if not for her. Always and forever, Violette would end up hurting Maryjune.

“Vio…are you all right?” Yulan asked.

“I’m fine,” said Violette.

Violette nodded to ease Yulan’s worry, but deep down, she was absolutely exhausted. She pressed her hand to her forehead and stifled the urge to vomit. She massaged her temples to clear her vision. The argument was getting heated; as the girls’ voices got louder, people started to notice.

Who would be blamed for this? Well, the group of girls who’d picked a fight, clearly. Her first instinct was to pass by like it had nothing to do with her and wait for the girls to get bored, or for someone else to break it up. That was the sensible reaction. But…

“I’m sorry, please wait here for a moment,” said Violette.

“Huh…?” Yulan said, lost.

She handed him the plate and made her way toward the voices. She felt a little bad for leaving him without an explanation, but this shouldn’t take long.

If her goal was to live a simple and quiet life, walking into an argument was the exact opposite of what she should be doing. Violette just wanted to ignore them.

But that wouldn’t look good.

This wasn’t really about her, anyway. What were those bullies thinking—that she’d find out they defended her and win her favor? But things didn’t always go as planned.

Exploiting my name, using me as a reason for your petty fight…that’s the worst.

These girls felt they could be extra vicious because they had a pure motive—they were defending Violette. What kind of impression would their words make on the onlookers, especially if she stood by and let them say such terrible things? It didn’t matter if she truly had nothing to do with it—everyone would walk away remembering cruel bullies tied to Violette. That was dangerous.

She’d need to handle this quickly and carefully. She had no time to think up a plan, and her dress got tangled in her legs and slowed her down. She wanted to pull it up and run, but she couldn’t do things like that at a tea party.

“I wonder what trick your mother used to seduce the duke. I’m sure you’re only after power. But we will never accept you!” one of the girls said.

“No! Mother and I aren’t like that!” said Maryjune.

“The daughter of a shabby mistress acting so shameless…!”

Maryjune’s eyes were downcast, and she looked scared and vulnerable but determined to stand up to the bullies insulting her mother. Violette could remember hating this same girl, but now all she could see was the kind, beautiful soul shining through. Maryjune might come from humble origins, but she was the epitome of a good person. She loved and was loved. She was like a princess…the exact opposite of Violette.

Even God wouldn’t forgive anyone who hurt her.

One of the girls had a hand raised to slap Maryjune’s cheek, but before that hand could strike, before Violette could say anything to stop them, someone else broke through with a voice as cold as ice.

“What are you doing?”

The speaker’s words froze everyone who heard them and wrapped Maryjune in a layer of protection—a prince’s shield to protect his princess.

“Prince…Cl-Claudia…” one of the girls choked out.

“I asked…what you are doing?” Claudia repeated.

The girl in front still had her hand raised and eyes filled with anger, but in an instant her face went pale and her eyes filled with tears. Even if they’d truly been convinced they were doing the right thing for Violette, Prince Claudia clearly wouldn’t agree.

“This party is hosted by the royal family—what were you planning to do to upset it? I expect an explanation,” Claudia said.

This was Prince Claudia Acrucis. He wasn’t a fairy-tale character or a fantasy…but the literal heir to the throne, the next king of the Kingdom of Duralia.