Chapter 32: That Was Kindness

Chapter 32:
That Was Kindness

 

MARIN WAS STILL teary-eyed, but she had a smile on her face when she saw Violette off to school early the next morning.

Violette headed to school much earlier than usual as a tactic to avoid Maryjune, but there was an unexpected bonus—she was the first person to arrive in her classroom and would likely have it to herself for at least ten minutes. She felt more comfortable here than at home, and she also got a few minutes of privacy. That was practically paradise for Violette.

She let out an involuntary sigh.

She was more mentally exhausted than she’d thought. She was still looking forward to this afternoon, but the run-in with her father left her feeling deeply depressed. Someone once said that a woman’s heart can change as quickly as the autumn sky. Still, this quick change from heaven to hell was dramatic for her. The quiet, still classroom was the perfect place to think it through.

She hadn’t thought that things could get worse, but her lows just kept getting lower.

I wonder if Marin’s all right…

That house was torture to Violette, but it wasn’t comfortable for Marin, either. It was easier for a while when her mother was bedridden, but since her father’s return, Marin clearly shared some of her pain. The young woman was once a child who Violette thoughtlessly dragged into her life, and despite being an adult now, she was still stuck in that oppressive house. Marin was so precious to her—she rarely smiled, but her affection for Violette was clear. Violette didn’t know much about family, but she wondered if Marin counted as hers—they could be sisters, maybe. Still, Violette always worried that Marin would be hurt because of her, so she kept a little distance.

“Oh…Lady Violette?” a student said.

“Hm…good morning,” Violette replied.

“Good morning. You’re early today.”

“Yes, I got an early start.”

She reflexively set her face as her classmate entered; she couldn’t imagine the rumors that would fly if she showed even faint sadness on her face. She wasn’t particularly suspicious of that classmate, but it was always smart to conceal any weakness from people she didn’t trust.

They made idle small talk while people slowly filed into the classroom. Her momentary paradise was short lived, as she’d known it would be. Still, if she had to sit here and maintain this façade until the start of class, she’d only feel more depressed.

“I’m sorry, but I have business in the library,” Violette said as she stood up.

“Oh, I apologize for keeping you here.”

“Not at all. Please, excuse me.”

Violette kept her distance from most people, but her beauty, personality, and lineage drew others to her. She’d honed her use of words to fight or protect; she knew how to defuse a battle of wills at a social event, but somehow, friendly small talk with her peers at school felt so much more difficult.

Now that she’d devoted herself to the wallflower lifestyle, she didn’t have much reason to work at it.

She moved against the flow of people heading for their classrooms, searching for a private spot. There were plenty of good options, but she didn’t want to go too far from her classroom. First thing in the morning, there were far fewer people wandering the courtyards, so the garden seemed like the best choice.

“How beautiful…” Violette muttered. The garden’s flowers were in full bloom, their orderly rows a marked contrast from the mess of her mind. She let the riot of color and the sweet scent that tickled her nose soothe her senses, but they weren’t enough to heal her heart. A sight could heal someone, but only if they had a good memory tied to it. Violette couldn’t remember anything that could overcome what she’d been through.

She didn’t know how people got over having their most precious places trampled.

“I’ll stay here.”

Thinking about it would just drive her further into her own head. It wasn’t easy to forget things on purpose, but it was still pointless to dwell on what had happened. Her father would never understand her, never try to understand, never aim the love and kindness he showed Maryjune her way. Violette expected nothing from him. So why was she still so shaken by his callousness?

A wind picked up, blowing through her hair and making flower petals flutter past. She hoped her feelings would be blown away with them. She turned into the wind to keep her hair out of her face, and noticed another figure in the garden.

“Oh…”

Dark purple hair trailed straight down her back. Faint pink decorated the cheeks on her otherwise pale face. She bent down to admire the flowers, elegance personified, her entire body as beautiful as the blooms she surveyed. Her lavender eyes narrowed, and the very air around her seemed to fill with divine light. She looked like a goddess.

If Violette was a rose, this girl was a pure white lily.

Violette recognized her: Princess Rosette Megan, royalty from a neighboring country and student in the same grade as Violette, though in another class. Neat, lovely, and elegant, Princess Rosette was an ideal lady, beloved by everyone and the image of every positive attribute one could imagine. Even then, labels didn’t accurately capture her essence. Wrapped in veils, revered, extolled, and deified, her appearance reminded Violette of a stained glass window in the church.

How rare…

Rosette was always surrounded by throngs of people whenever Violette saw her from afar. At the academy or outside, it was always the same. Princess Rosette was always gracefully smiling in the middle of a crowd.

While Violette watched her, the bell rang, warning that class would begin without her if she didn’t make it back before the next bell. The princess must have heard the bell, but for some reason, Rosette kept inspecting the flowers and showed no sign of moving.

Violette couldn’t say anything.

She knew she should get the other girl’s attention, but just calling out to someone was already difficult for her, and calling out to Rosette felt so much harder. Anyway, the whole school probably felt awkward around Violette considering all the scandal she’d been at the center of. It was kinder not to drag a virtual stranger into feeling like that.

And while she knew about Rosette, she had never spoken to the princess before. Introducing herself to someone that intimidating just to warn her that class would be starting soon seemed like an insurmountable hurdle.

I suppose it’s fine.

They weren’t friends, so why force herself? More importantly, she wasn’t sure she’d be able to put on her smiling mask while she still felt so raw.

Violette turned away from Rosette and her flowers, pushed her depression down deep inside, and returned to her classroom.