Violet Shadows

14

Besides her banishment from court, Christine was still welcome to the one in House Ducal. Full of red-haired aunts and uncles, sisters, cousins, and more, they all sang in tune to the cruelties described of them. Selfish, vain, condescending. Undeserving of the lovely banquets, where each night ended with sweet, tantalizing wine and dazzling meals carried on the backs of snakes, bison, and hawks.

In truth, Christine had given up all Ducal family reunions. The first time she went she spotted a pooch nearly two feet tall and she bent down to stroke its groomed fur, overtaken by its cuteness. Rionack deliriously asked a moment later why she was petting their cousin Tiana. She suffered the embarrassment of coldly lifting her hand, pretending the entire thing never happened, and walking away. She swore to never return. She hadn't in a month.

If Roma's parents were alarmed at her lack of presence, she wouldn't have known. They hadn't bothered to contact her, especially Roma's father after her banishment, but she was glad for the distance. She didn't even know their names. It wasn't mentioned in the book, only referring to their roles and the High Head of House Ducal and his cruel wife, and the night she first met them was terrifying. She was doing her best to blend in, acting like a child who did not know their parents' name was like sticking a piece of paper on her back that read not Roma.

The square they had burned now was thrumming back to life with such quickness Christine couldn't stop herself from gawking. Only a bit more than a week had passed and it was as if the square had been reborn. Cleaner, firmer, strong than before. Like a piano being tuned after years of disharmony. She sought a reason, a solution for such efficiency in a world that held little practicality. Their lack of knowledge was evident in this world. It wasn't possible. She stopped fretting over it when she saw workers lifting crates and logs of wood without using their hands. There was the solution: magic. Gifts.

It made sense. In a strange sort of way. With magic solving their everyday problems, they sought no reason in explaining it. Just knowing that it did was enough. To them, holy gifts were as fantastical as could be. It was unexplainable, an offering from the Goddess herself. To question it would be to question the creator of the world. So they sought no reason to dive into science, to study nature, medicine, the stars, to understand everything pragmatically. Magic did not have a reason, so neither did the world.

Christine startled as she realized Henri had been pulling on her sleeve. Chomping some cake, he pushed a piece of it towards her. "Have some, Roma."

Unable to deny those doe-eyes, she reluctantly took a spoonful of it. Honeycomb cake melted across her tongue. She came to understand Henri was a major glutton, even though this was only the third time meeting him. And that he insisted on sharing with anyone nearby. Insisted.

Eric was eating his own share as a result.

It wasn't all bad. As they had their passing moments of quietly snacking on bonbons or taffy, the same minty color of his eyes, it made the longing silences between them more bearable. Except for Nicol. She pretended not to notice his refusal every time, instead watching them eat. She always scarfed down her food quickly against his gaze.

Maze was late. He entered the office with a blush that reddened his tan skin. Nicol merely lowered his pocket watch, eyeing his arrival. Unfazed. Unbothered. Christine scowled at the blatant favoritism, then stiffened when she noticed that Maze's arm was slung across his chest in a cast. Still broken because her weight had snapped in half a week ago.

Maze shut the door with a large crack, and his face flushed even more as the sound echoed through the ceiling. "Sorry," He said to everyone. "My siblings decided today they weren't going to the Private Academy. I spent this morning convincing them otherwise. They caved when I threatened to serve dinner without dessert. "