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She stifled a yawn with the back of her hand. With the nightmares that visited her daily, she was struggling to gain enough energy to function.
The sun set on another day, dipping behind the treetops and the horizon of the mountains beyond. Violet let the embroidered curtain fall from her fingers and looked back at Gavin, who had been brewing the same potion the entire afternoon.
They’d overstayed their welcome in Scoria. If it were up to her, they would be long gone by now. Yet, a part of her accepted that her leg still ached, and that exhaustion clung to her body with the lingering effects of cold sickness.
When they’d moved into Laura’s home, they’d settled into a comfortable routine of being semi-polite with one another. All this while, she’d been healing—both physically and from the wounds buried deep inside the marrow of who she was.
The looming threat of someone coming for her hadn’t exactly improved her state of mind. The memories of her wedding haunted her, and sleep had been scarce. Besides, the Society was likely drawing closer now, seeking retribution for her crimes.
She took a long, deep breath to calm herself. Gavin was right, though. Even if the Crows were in Scoria, no one would suspect that they were staying here, in this dilapidated building where only locals lived. At least not without interrogating their host first. Unlike him, Violet didn’t trust the innkeeper so blindly. A few gold coins tossed in Laura’s direction would likely buy their whereabouts. That’s what people did. They betrayed you.
She closed her eyes as the thought pulled her back to their wedding day. How her own commander had left her in the hands of the Crows: Vera, who’d walked her to the altar and forced her to wear a mud-covered crown, mocking her all the while. And Morgan, who’d promised to watch her and Gavin during their wedding night to make sure they consummated the union. Who’d promised her worse things, whispering them into the shell of Violet’s ear when nobody else could hear.
She shivered with the memories. How the blood had splattered against her skin as she’d sunk the knife into Morgan’s body. How she’d let the anger that plagued her seep out in the throes of her revenge.
“Anything new out there?” Gavin’s voice pulled her back into the present.
“No one we should worry about, if that’s what you’re asking.” Silence settled between them, leaving her to drown in her memories once more, in the hurt she’d caused. “Is she alive?”
The creaking of the chair told her he was shifting his weight. “Who?”
“Morgan.”
“No, she’s dead.”
Violet tried to swallow around the knot in her throat, to chase away the chill in her blood. It seemed it was here to stay. “I… I’ve never done anything like that before,” she admitted, shame distorting her voice. “Morgan was going to let him hurt me…”
She met Gavin’s questioning gaze. Would he believe her if she told him what she knew about Julius? Gavin held that bastard in such high esteem. She wondered if he was purposely ignoring the facts. Did he really not understand that his commander was a monster known to kill women amongst the assemblies?
Morgan was aware of Julius’ true nature, without a doubt. Or she wouldn’t have threatened Violet with—how had she put it? Ah, yes. Letting him have a go. The outcome of which had been a very violent outburst on Violet’s part—and Morgan’s death. Still, it didn’t ease the guilt churning within her guts to know that she could do such a thing. While she had been to battle many times, she hadn’t truly hurt someone–let alone killed– unless commanded to do so. Even if this time had only been in self-defense.
“Let him?” Gavin asked. “Who are you talking about? The magistrate?”
“No. It’s nothing.” She turned away from him, taking a deep breath. “If you could not save her, then why on earth would you believe the Society of Crows won’t kill me if I return home with you?”
Gavin was silent for a while, blinking slowly at the apparatus he used to make potions. Small glass tubes cake with residue, and brass knots that kept it all together. His jaw was clenched tightly. “Julius said he would protect you. Since you’re now a member of the Valdors, and he is a high-ranking commander, he could pardon you. He told me he believed his cousin was out of line.”
Ha! While it was true that Violet had only been trying to save herself, she doubted that snake of a man would have stuck his neck out for her. Especially after she’d tried, and failed, to kill him.
The law would have been on Violet’s side, had the Society of Crows not been such a corrupt, evil organization. They held the kind of power that was meant to protect, but they enjoyed using it to torment the people instead. Morgan had been out of line when she’d insisted on witnessing their wedding night.
Violet hadn’t broken any rule when she’d defied her archaic demands. She’d known what the actual scriptures required of them, and it wasn’t watching while a new couple consummated their bond.
“And you believed him?”
“I do—did. I understand if you don’t. Which is why I’m here, alone.” He turned to her, and his deep frown eased.
He was questioning his commander’s actions, after all. Perhaps it was better if he arrived at the conclusion on his own. If it were up to her, she would let Gavin hate her for all that he’d lost and maintain the illusion that his commander was a good man. She’d already taken so much from him. She didn’t want to continue the trend.
“Was your family near the temple on the day of our wedding? As I fled, I could have sworn I saw a man with a striking resemblance to you… except older.”
Gavin nodded, but his eyes remained on his workstation. If it hadn’t been for his hand freezing mid-motion and the stiff set of his shoulders, she would have thought they were talking about what was for dinner and not reminiscing about that horrible day.
“They’d traveled to the city to meet you.”
She held on to the table as the ground seemed to tilt beneath her. “They did?” Surely that pathetic sound wasn’t her voice.
“My sister didn’t come. They don’t permit children to take the portals.”
