Chapter 4: New Girl At Court

"You can't wear that," Jasmine chided. "Try this."

The maid had taken her rescue at Violet's hands very seriously and asked to be assigned to her to help Violet adjust to court life. If Violet had known she'd be turned into a frosted pastry in the process, she'd would've said no.

Violet took the lavender silk with all its lace and pearls and tried not to grimace. "Jasmine, this is very kind, but I can't be a bodyguard in these dresses. I need trousers and a tunic. Like the men."

Jasmine couldn't hide her disappointment. "Very well. I finished the black trousers last night. There's a matching black shirt. It might be tight fit—I couldn't get your measurements after you fell asleep."

Violet dug the pieces out. "You made all this last night? Jasmine, you're amazing."

The younger girl grinned. "They didn't have a uniform for a woman so I figured it was the least I could do." She took a step toward Violet. "You're still going to teach me how to shoot, right?"

"A promise is a promise," Violet replied.

Once dressed, Violet strapped her new quiver and bow to her thigh and back. They were streamlined, made by the finest artisans of the king. The bow was gilded in gold leaf. Scrollwork turned to clouds wrapped around the black lacquered wood. The arrows matched, their points glimmering gold in the morning light filling her bedroom.

"King Eden has been very generous," Jasmine pointed out.

"I don't understand why," Violet replied, guiding Jasmine out to the king's chambers nearby. "I told him I'd be happy to stay in the barracks with the rest of the guards but he insisted I be close."

"You're his chosen bodyguard. After everything that happened, he'd be a fool not to keep you close."

"What would I be, Jasmine?" Eden said, as he appeared at his door, wearing a copper tunic inlaid with sapphires at the sleeves and collar.

Jasmine stuttered, looking from Violet to the king and back again before scurrying away.

"Does the king always eavesdrop on his subjects?" Violet asked.

Eden joined her in the hall. "It's your first day. You have no idea how I fill my time."

She kept a few paces behind, trying to recall the hours of court etiquette Jasmine squeezed in over breakfast.

"Keep up," Eden commanded. "Threats don't keep three paces behind, neither should you."

Violet walked beside the king, suddenly feeling the weight of what she'd undertaken. It was on her to keep Eden breathing; the lord of the realm depended on her for his life. "Storm's name," she swore under breath.

That's when she noticed the eyes. They passed courtiers and nobles dressed in their finest, waiting for a moment with the king. Each one wanted a piece of him—his ear, his eye, his heart—and Violet had to make sure he remained whole. She began to hear their whispers.

"What an upstart."

"I doubt she saved him."

"She just wanted to get in his bed."

"Did you hear he's housed her right next to his chambers?"

"Another sl*t from the country."

Violet forced herself to take deep breaths. They were just words.

"Don't listen," Eden said.

His deep voice brought her out of her thoughts. "What?"

He stopped, nearly tripping her, and spoke loud enough for all to hear. "You are the king's guard. If you can't handle gossiping courtiers, you don't belong here."

He kept walking, leaving Violet stunned.

***

In the council chamber, Eden gathered with his advisors. To her surprise—and the surprise of several council members—Violet was brought in.

"My king, she's a woman from the country. What does she know about the defense of the kingdom?" questioned Lord Lennox.

"I must agree with Lennox," Lord Gregor chimed in. "She may have saved you and the princess but that does not make her a strategist."

Eden's amber eyes narrowed. "When I needed someone to trust, she was there. Where were you, Gregor?"

The lords fell silent.

"She stays," Eden declared. "Now, where is Petros?"

As if on cue, a young man burst in, his long hair as silver-white as Eden's and bound back with braids. He wore pants and tunic of emerald with a sword strapped to his side. He pulled a chair out from the table and flopped into it. "That's the last time I do you a favor, cousin."

"Kind of you to join us, cousin," Eden replied. "What news of the chase?"

"Well, I found Curzon's tracks after you sent him running but—" Petros caught sight of Violet. "Hello, who's this warrior?"

"My bodyguard," Eden growled, clearly impatient.

Petros scoffed. "She looks far too smart for that."

"You can debate the intelligence of my bodyguard on your own time. Did you find the Blood King?"

Seriousness overtook Petros. "I followed him as long as I could, but we ran into something I've never seen before, cousin. It sent chills down even my spine."

"What was it?"

"The dead."

Eden's eyes flared with gold. "I need a word with my cousin. Everyone out."

The lords began to protest, but the lightning flaring at Eden's palms convinced them. Violet followed them.

"Not you."

She turned back. "My king, this doesn't sound like my business."

The doors to the council chamber closed.

"Sit," Eden ordered.

They all gathered around the table.

Petros leaned back. "He's finally done it. That b*stard is conquering kingdoms and consuming Monarchs. That's the only way to gain power over the dead—do something so despicable you lose your soul."

"Do you mean Curzon?" Violet asked, her stomach turning to knots.

"Now you understand my interest in the woman he tried to kidnap," Eden replied. "Right now, he needs to be on his land to raise the dead but that won't last."

"What are you going to do?" Violet asked.

Eden sighed, showing the weight of the crown for just a moment, but he couldn't afford to let it linger. "Right now," he answered, the kingly mask replaced, "you and I are going to bring the rain ritual to one of the villages."

***

Petros travelled with them in the carriage.

"If you ask me, you should be repairing our family's palace. That glass doesn't look good char-broiled, cousin."

Violet watched Eden's reaction. They hadn't talked about her interference in his attack on the assassin. They both knew he had been about to kill her. Though the assassin now sat in the depths of Basharr's prison, Violet couldn't help but wonder if he resented her actions.

He returned her gaze, as if aware of her thoughts.

"In good time. The people need rain and I need you two to keep me honest."

"Don't you mean safe?" Petros asked.

He hadn't stopped watching Violet. "That too."

Regrets or not, she hadn't stopped thinking about his chastisement in front of the court. It stung but he was right. There were far more dangerous things than gossip for her to face.

They arrived at Marana, one of the farming villages closest to the city. The people lined the road, eager for a sight of their king. Eden stepped out of the carriage, greeted the village leaders, and followed them to the platform they'd set up.

Petros and Violet trailed behind. Violet watched the crowd, the forest edge, even the crop-filled fields with new eyes. Threats could be anywhere. She saw arrows flying from second-story windows and soldiers hiding in the shadows of the trees.

"I've heard the rumors about you," Petros whispered.

Eden was giving a speech to the people about the importance of storm, rain, and their farms. Violet marveled at how easy it was for him to guide these people, most of whom he'd probably never met, but he cared about deeply. She could hear it in his voice, in the way he met each of their gazes with courage.

"I haven't heard anything about you," Violet replied, focused on Eden.

Petros chuckled. "You saved my cousins. And their assassin. You're intriguing, Violet Bellerose."

The clouds were growing. Great thunderheads in their anvil shapes rolled behind Eden. The air turned damp.

"The king saved me first. I have no problem returning the service."

"Oh, yes, the Blood King was after you. Tell me about that."

Her stomach lurched. Not another royal after her past. "You seem to know as much about me as I do, Lord Petros. If you'll excuse me, I have a king to keep safe."

She moved closer. Mist danced around her feet. The clouds surrounded the village, hemming the farms in. They grew heavy with rain. But Violet's focus was Eden. Lightning sparked around him. His arms were outstretched. The sapphires on his tunic mirrored the darkening clouds. He kept his eyes closed but she knew what lurked behind—raging gold, a sun barely contained.

The downpour started. Rain drenched Marana, sending its children giggling through the streets. The farmers cheered. Some men took out their fiddles and drums, and struck up a beautiful rain dance song.

The short skirts of Basharr's women finally made sense. As they danced in the rain, kicking at puddles and twirling through the drops, their legs turned brown with mud and leaves. Soon they were like the plants themselves, immersed in the bounty of the sky.

Eden still stood, arms outstretched. Violet approached quietly. She wanted to say something but the magic radiating off him was overwhelming. It called out to hers, and she wanted nothing more than to bond with his powers. She could see how the storm would grow, encasing the entire kingdom. The clouds would never leave. The rains would never cease.

She reached out. All it would take was one touch if she wanted it.

"No," she muttered. "This isn't what I want."

Eden heard her. "Violet, are you alright? Do you not like storms?"

Her heart raced. She tried to still her breathing. "I'm beginning to like them less," she replied.

"We have five more of these to do this week. You might want to get used to them," Eden said, jumping off the platform to join the band. They handed him a fiddle, bringing a smile to the king's face.

But Violet felt sick. She'd never been around the magic of a Monarch before. The strength was overpowering, as if she'd been caught in a stampede with no way to get out but grabbing hold of the very thing trying to trample her. If she couldn't resist Eden's magic, her secret would be out. Who knew what would become of her or the king then?