Page 28 of A Court of Masks and Roses (Royal Scout #1)

VIOLET

V iolet strode across the palace grounds to a True Family meeting with her face raised high in the bright afternoon sun.

It was a good day. Everywhere her eyes fell, she saw scarlet uniforms of the Holy Guard, Dansil’s true protectors.

Brother Joshua had been right—last week’s attack was a codex.

More importantly, the attack had been necessary to enable the Goddess’s soldiers to take their posts.

And the Goddess managed it all without actually harming the princess.

Witnessing the results of the Goddess’s work firsthand, Violet had trouble understanding her own previous confusion.

But looking forward was more important than looking back, and now Violet was on her guard.

Her sisters had warned her that the Dark God would fight hard now to get Violet’s soul back, and she was prepared to defend it.

“Vi!” Violet halted as her brother jogged to her from across the courtyard.

Only one guard, Luca, trailed behind the prince, making Violet wonder what Wil had done this time to lose the other two.

Or to drain away Luca’s usual happiness.

Wil stopped beside her, panting lightly.

He was pale, a haunted look in his eyes that Violet hadn’t seen since their mother’s funeral. Something was wrong.

The Dark God works through the ones we love, said Zalia’s voice in Violet’s memory. Be careful, sister.

Violet checked the sun’s position. If she lingered too long, she’d be late.

“Where have you been hiding the last week?” Wil asked, looking Violet up and down. He made a face. “And what in stars’ name happened to your hair?”

Violet ran a hand over her short tufts. She still missed the shining golden locks she’d given up to show her devotion to the Goddess, but the self-imposed condition fortified Violet’s internal core. She knew better than to tell Wil as much though.

The Dark God twists the truth into his own weapon. Keep it to yourself, lest you give him ammunition. It was another of the Order’s teachings.

Violet bit her lip. Wil was not ready to welcome the Goddess into his heart, but the thought of her brother falling to the Dark God’s clutches filled Violet with horrid grief. For all his mischief and self-importance, Wil was made for carrying light, not darkness.

The challenge was to get past the Dark God’s wiles.

“I’ve taken up embroidering handkerchiefs with the Children of the Goddess girls.

We sell them and use the money to help war orphans.

Since Father refuses to allow any additional donation to the cause, I am doing what I can myself.

” She tilted her head, smiling at her brother. “Perhaps you would buy a batch?”

“Eh, sure.” Wil scratched the back of his neck.

“That’s wonderful, Wil,” Violet exclaimed, throwing her arms around her brother, though she knew he little understood the importance of what had just happened.

Wil’s money would support the Messenger’s work, and when the Goddess’s forces triumphed, Wil would get full credit for his contribution.

The sisters called the method “divine deception” and promised it worked wonders to keep the Dark God from interfering in the Children’s work.

And they were right. One day, all too soon, Wil would look back on this afternoon and feel the joy of having been a part of the Goddess’s victory. Violet squeezed her brother’s hand and resumed her path to the temple.

“Vi! Wait!”

She hesitated. “I need to go, Wil. I’ll send someone with the embroidery batch to you soon.”

He grabbed her wrist. “Are you all right, Vi?” He blurted, his eyes narrowing on hers. “You’ve been acting odd, and with the attack on Raza and patrols of every color roving around like cockroaches... Master Tril said you’ve not attended one lesson the whole week.”

Violet winced at Wil’s ignorance, his focus on all the wrong things. There was a war brewing, climbing to its inevitable apex. Not the silly squabble of Dansil and Everett, but one with truly high stakes.

Wil drew a breath and spoke again. “What I’m trying to say, Vi, is that with Mother keeping the Goddess company now, I thought you might want to talk.”

Violet’s chest tightened. What Wil meant was that he wanted to talk.

For all the grandness of being the crown prince, there were sides of her brother that only Violet had ever gotten to see.

The Wil who’d sobbed beside her the night of their mother’s death, the one who stole Violet’s favorite sweets from the kitchen and brought them to her, the one who’d confessed to breaking a vase that Violet had shattered, and taken her punishment without complaint.

Violet’s heart broke for that Wil. Truly and deeply.

But things were different now. Violet was a soldier in the Goddess’s army, not a silly little girl.

And she was a target. The Dark God worked through the people one loved, and Violet could not let his evil pour into her through her brother’s voice.

“Let’s go to the kitchens,” said Wil, his slender fingers still on her wrist. “We’ll take some sweetcakes. Tea.” His eyes turned with that familiar mischief. “Or ale.”

Sadness spilled from every chamber of Violet’s heart, but her eyes saw through the deception that the Dark God was spreading. She pulled her arm free. “I’m busy, Wil,” she said briskly, and hurried away.

“Violet!” Wil called after her. “Vi, wait!”

She kept going. For both their sakes.