04 Fall
—and I watched the way he looked to the Wolf King for comfort, the man who sired him. Yet, as the young blue-haired prince held the dead queen's hand, silver streams pouring down his cheeks and his younger brother silently staring at the dead queen, the Wolf King turned his back on his sons. Yet, he faced me. In his face, I saw sick delight. Perhaps the blue-haired Prince sensed it, too; for his tears ceased and his beautiful eyes hardened.
Violet walks around the market humming a soft tune. Madam Isla's bookstore was closed on the fifth day of the week, which means Violet had a full day of thieving ahead of her. She scans the marketplace, finding that the apparel stall held the biggest crowd. Perfect. Violet hums a soft tune, her footsteps dancing around swarms of people as she zeroed in on a noblemen wearing a cloak embedded with sapphires. She pulls the hood of her cloak over her braided hair and danced around the rich man's entourage, her fingers slipping into each of their coats as she moved.
They kept their coins in a small pouch, rather than loosely, which meant Violet couldn't stick around. She pocketed the three swells, anticipating buzzing in her veins as she pushed herself into the next crowd walking towards the western gates, continuing to hum her tune. Violet lets her hood fall from her head, allowing the breeze to lick her face as she heard the outraged cry of the man she had just robbed.
But she was nowhere near his group now. Violet smiles. "Hey!" Her head whips to the side, her legs crouching to sprint when she realized it was godsdamned Rodrick scaring her half to death.
"Gods, Rodrick, you nearly gave me a scare." She snaps, looping her arm through his as they walked. This worked out better for her actually: a pair walking in the market was less suspicious after a robbery than someone wandering alone.
"Why would I have scared you?" Rodrick presses, side-eying her. He wore a sleeveless grey tunic today, the color wearing him more than he wore it.
"I didn't expect to see you." Violet answers quickly, "Shouldn't you be working?" Rodrick frowns down at their looped arms but says nothing. The three stolen coin purses in her pocket jingled together slightly and she fought the urge to look over her shoulder.
"I wasn't needed at the stall today. What were you doing at Lukas' apparel stall? You hate him." Violet forces a smile on her face, though it pained her to do so. She pulled Rodrick towards a pottery stall and pretended to admire the clay work as she heard the market guards start their hunt.
"I hate him because he beats his wife." Violet said tersely, avoiding Rodrick's gaze. "I was letting his customers know that Margo sells the same apparel for cheaper in the town at the west gates." She hums softly to herself as the guards made their way around the crowd, grabbing lone citizens walking alone and shaking them down.
"Walk me home?" Violet asks, looking up from underneath her eyelashes at Rodrick.
He hesitated only a second, long enough for Violet to know he didn't entirely believe her. Whatever he suspected her of, he wasn't completely sure, or he would have called her out on it. Though Rodrick had always been a gentlemen and he nods to her wordlessly, meandering around the stalls and heading for the path that would take her home, each step away from the guards calming her ever beating heart.
He didn't speak to her until they arrived at her door, and she turned to thank him, a yelp escaping her as he shoves her into the wall of her home, grasping her wrists and trapping them above her head with his hand, the other one diving into her pockets. "Rodrick!" Violet yells, too stunned to shove him off. Rodrick who wouldn't even kill a beetle on his stall was bruising her wrists. He tries her other pocket, Violet realizing what he was looking for just as his eyes darkened and he pulls out the stolen coin pouches.
"I thought so." He quietly says, dropping her wrists and the pouches at the same time. Violet grabs them from the grass, shoving them back into her pocket, and staring up at him with wide eyes.
"What is the matter with you?" Violet seethes. Snapped out of her stupor, all she felt was rage towards Rodrick. How dare he grab her like that? How dare he judge her—
"You only hum when you're trying to stay calm." His jaw clenches. "And you know godsdamned well what they do with thieves, Violet." He wouldn't look her in the eyes, his dark gaze trained above her head, but she noticed the whites of his knuckles, the blood vessel throbbing in his temple. He was livid.
"You know godsdamned well what they do with poor citizens." Violet retorts. "Nothing. Your education from my mother that your father paid for in vegetables? No one has to do that now. She can teach for free because of what I did today." Violet keeps her voice low, stepping closer, itching for a fight she didn't realize she wanted. Who does he think he is? He hardly even speaks to her and when he does, it's to condemn her for how she chooses to survive?
"I took from a man who has enough wealth to house the entire slums of Klyico! And the best part of it, Rodrick? It didn't affect you in the slightest, so don't ever touch me like that again!" Violet was in his face now, but she couldn't remember when she took the step forward. Rodrick retreats a step, staring at her now with wide eyes, looking at her as if he had never seen her before.
"If you do," Violet continues, "I'll break every bone in your hand." Behind her, the door flies open, but she doesn't take her eyes off Rodrick, who was still staring at her with a slack jaw.
"Your eyes." Rodrick whispers just as she hears her brother say, "Is everything okay out here?" Rodrick retreats another step, but his words causes Violet to look at her brother, whose face pales considerably at whatever he saw there.
"Go inside." He whispers, putting himself between her and Rodrick. She didn't hesitate, refusing to look back at her old friend, but as she entered her home she presses her ear to the door, listening to her brother, her heart racing.
"Don't ever fucking touch her again and if you even look in her direction or cause her any trouble, I'll find your family before I find you." She had never heard Ryder that angry in her life. Gods, she hadn't seen Rodrick angry at her before either. Shaking her head, she steps backwards and turns towards the bathing room, snatching the small mirror off of the sink. Violet holds up the small mirror to her face.
Auburn eyes glowed back at her.
She squeezes her eyes shut and opens them again, but they still glow. She sets the mirror down, her breath coming in gasps as she clenches and unclenches her fists. When she opesn the door, Ryder is leaning up against the wall waiting for her.
"Are you okay?" He asks softly.
"I think I'm half shifted." It was the only solution she could come up with. Glancing at the closed curtain window, she loosens a breath. Violet closes her eyes, willing the magic to shift inside of her, the uncomfortable barb feeling as her ears elongated and warmed, her nails pushed out into sharp claws. She sighs in contentment as she opens her eyes, her vision better in this form, catching the subtle twitch of Ryder's jaw and the cobwebs behind the stool.
"I haven't seen you in your form in years." Ryder says wistfully. His eyes seem to water. "Why don't you shift, too?" Even her voice sounds honeyed. "Because I'll never shift back." Ryder replies, bitterness tinging his words. His eyes were sad as they roam her face and Violet hoped he wouldn't tell her to shift back.
Of course, she knew better.
"Mother will be home soon from the slums." He nods in encouragement and Violet sighs, preparing herself for the shift when her ears twitched, and she swung her head in the direction of Ryder's bedroom.
Violet's eyes widen. "Someone is here."