Chapter 3:
Treasuring Her Younger Brother
WITH ONLY TWO YEARS LEFT before Violette would graduate and join a monastery, there was so much she wanted to do. Until now she’d been living her life the way her parents wanted, her only goal to be loved, but that had led her to too many mistakes. She’d already driven most of her small group of friends away—not that she blamed them. Those friends only cared about cozying up to her family, anyway, so she didn’t miss them. She didn’t want to make new ones, either. She wanted to run, to move her body however she wanted, and she could only do that alone. If she was to do as she pleased, friends would only get in her way.
I can do a lot like this.
Thankfully, her classmates noticed her new attitude and didn’t bother her during their break. She spread her notes out and started writing, starting with a list of all the things she wanted to do, and discovered how much of it she could do alone. Everyone around her was always so desperate to make friends, so she’d assumed that a group was necessary to do anything meaningful. But when she really thought about it, it didn’t seem necessary for several people to go to the restroom together. This revelation delighted her—Violette planned on enjoying her life free of people from now on.
“I wonder where I should go after school…” Violette muttered.
But there was something she had to do today, she remembered—they were celebrating Maryjune’s transfer at supper. Her father hadn’t bothered to show up to celebrate Violette’s own enrollment in the academy. He must really love Maryjune.
Luckily, Violette didn’t care about that any more.
Her past self had taken this opportunity to nitpick everything about Maryjune’s conduct, from the way she ate to the way she spoke. Maryjune lived among commoners until recently, and although she had impeccable common manners, she didn’t know much about the customs of the aristocracy. Violette had spent the evening setting etiquette traps and laughing whenever Maryjune made a mistake.
Now, she winced at her past cruelty.
Should I even go to the celebration…?
Wouldn’t she just get in the way of their happy family? She imagined her father’s brow crinkling in displeasure at her presence. But if she was late to dinner without notifying them, her softhearted stepmother and half sister would probably wait for her to come home. And her father would follow their lead, getting angrier and angrier.
I’ll ask Marin to bring dinner to my room.
It wasn’t the politest move, but this was a unique situation. Marin and the other servants knew about the great distance between Violette and her family and the depths of her personal sadness. They would sympathize with her instead of judging.
She looked up and realized that the teacher was already standing at the podium—she’d been so engrossed in her list that she must have missed the bell for the end of the break period. She hurriedly took out her textbook and opened to a new page in her notebook.
✦ ✦ ✦
Violette had done this lesson once already, so it wasn’t difficult to understand. She’d never been the most diligent student, so there were still parts of the lesson she didn’t fully grasp, but this still felt closer to a review than a new lesson. How fortunate—if she got good grades, her father couldn’t complain. He never really nagged her, but he often compared her to Maryjune, who always did well. To Violette, this hurt worse than being struck in the face.
Violette took more classes than most and liked knowing a little bit about a broad range of subjects instead of focusing on perfecting a few. She had her own way of studying that might not get her the best grades but worked for her.
But even as she thought through excuses for her mediocre grades, she stopped herself—she was determined to be alone, after all, so who were the excuses for? She didn’t enjoy studying and wasn’t desperate enough to do more after school. That was the end of it.
“Now then…” she said, standing up and gathering her books. She was about to head home when she heard a voice.
“Vio!” it called out.
“Huh…?!” Violette gasped. She jumped at the nickname, but she was only confused for a moment. Only one person in the world called her that.
“Yulan, you’re being loud. You’ll startle everyone,” she said.
“Oh…sorry,” he responded.
This was Violette’s childhood friend and underclassman, Yulan Cugurs. He was big, but the way his shoulders slumped made him look smaller. His soft, burgundy hair and droopy, golden eyes made his face look gentle. He towered over the other students, but he had a smile that warmed everyone who saw it. With a well-defined, beautiful face and a gentle personality, he was the ideal young man.
But with this contrite expression on his face, she couldn’t help but imagine him with dog’s ears and a tail between his legs.
He belonged to a branch of the royal family, so his father served as the prime minister. Although he was an only child, like Violette, his family situation was…complicated. But unlike her, his parents showered him with love.
He was usually gentle and calm, the type who didn’t like to stand out—though his height and handsome face meant that he couldn’t avoid it, most of the time. He generally knew how to behave to avoid judgment, even if he did sometimes forget himself when excited. But rushing into the upper classrooms and yelling was very out of character.
“For you to come all the way to the second-year classrooms… Is something wrong?” Violette asked.
“I heard the rumor…about your father,” he said.
He didn’t need to explain further. Maryjune was in his grade, after all, so he likely heard all the rumors about the Vahan patriarch’s new second wife.
“Shall we go somewhere private to talk…?” she offered.
She wasn’t trying to hide anything, really, but there was still no need to announce publicly that all the stories were true. Rumors were like a game of telephone—no matter how carefully you told them, they would always be misunderstood. Past Violette didn’t know this, so she spewed poison about her stepmother and half sister whenever she could, and those groundless insults were what brought about her downfall. She dared not travel that same path—this time, she’d stay out of it entirely.
If anyone other than Yulan had approached her, she probably would’ve handled it more appropriately. But she doted on him like a younger brother; she wanted to put his mind at ease.
Thinking of a deserted location, she pulled Yulan’s arm and left the classroom.