Chapter Text
Prologue 1: Violet’s POV
9 Years Old
The library, any library, was Violet’s favourite place. It had been for years, since her father first introduced her to the magic of books. Wonderful worlds and important history at her fingertips. Violet could always get lost in them.
Until today.
Violet had never been easily distracted from her books, but as she attempted to diligently translate the page in front of her - a task from her father - her eye kept catching on the boys playing just outside her window. They were laughing and jeering at each other as they swung wooden swords around in their hands, crashing them together in clicks and cracks that would’ve been loud enough to make Violet jump, if she hadn’t been aware of them from the moment they appeared.
It wasn’t like it was an abnormal sight for her, seeing the two princes block, parry and stab their way through an exercise, but someone else caught her attention. A dark haired boy she didn’t recognise. His movements were smoother than the princes; beautiful, practiced, precise. Violet didn’t think he’d lost a single match against the twins.
She ignored the noon bell when it rang, calling the inhabitants for food. Princes Alic, Halden, and their guest continued their spats. It was distracting in a way people fighting had never been to her. Her translations sat forgotten on the table as she watched, entranced, wondering just who the third boy was and what he was doing there. He looked too well kept to be one of Halden or Alic’s usual friends. She wasn’t even sure he was from Calldyr. Her parents or siblings might’ve told her, but Violet rarely heard what was spoken to her when she was caught in a book.
“Violet,” her father rested a gentle hand on her shoulder, forcing her to turn her eyes away from the boys. “Time to eat something.”
“I’m not hungry,” Violet lied, turning her eyes back to the glass. A pang of disappointment slid through her when she realised they’d gone.
“Food is important to keep your mind growing, Violet,” her father’s voice was gentle, soothing as always. “Come on, you can finish translating afterwards.”
They walked together to the castle’s great hall, where food had been laid out along the long tables. Many seats had already been taken. The King and his sons were up on the high table, along with the visiting Tyrish King and the boy Violet had been watching. She realised then that he must’ve been a prince too. Violet forced herself to look away - a difficult feat as it seemed like her eyes were drawn to him, the mussed up dark hair and tanned skin contrasting the princes she knew.
A hand on her shoulder forced her attention back inwards. Her father directed her to where Mira and Brennan already sat. Their mother was on duty, so would not be joining them. Her siblings were in tight training clothing, hair sticking to sweaty faces, grinning at each other.
“I beat him!” Mira smirked triumphantly across the table, gesturing towards Brennan as though they wouldn’t know who she’d been sparring with.
Violet ate absentmindedly, zoning out their conversation as she always did when talk turned to fighting.
Despite heading to the healers when he turns twenty, Brennan still decided to learn to spar; Violet had been suspicious about why since the day she found him secretly training alongside the other boys his age. She thought she knew now, but hadn’t dared to question him. If their mother found out he wanted to be a rider, Violet expected it wouldn’t go down well. Violet wasn’t sure how she’d feel if he actually left either. To be a rider, he had to go to Tyrrendor. He could come back, and she was sure he would, but even two years in another country felt like too long.
Mira, however, had always been honest about where she would go. She was following in Lilith Sorrengail’s footsteps, heading into the infantry. She’d even started sword training a few years earlier. Violet had begged Mira to let her have a go, but her sister seemed to think it was too dangerous. Violet disagreed. She’d snuck into Mira’s room one day and found one of her daggers stowed away. The trip to the infirmary with her brother when she’d sliced her arm hadn’t been so fun.
“I’m going to be a dragon rider, of course.” A voice broke through her thoughts. She scanned the room searching for the arrogance she’d heard in the faces she could see. It wasn’t long before she’d found it. The boy had been distracting her all morning, and now he couldn’t even let her have her own thoughts. “Father’s already said that I can join after my first year.”
“My father said I might be able to join too,” Prince Alic said, his usual sneer plastered on his face. “But I have to finish my infantry training first, he won’t accept just the first year.”
Violet hid her snigger. The princes weren’t the worst people she knew, but she certainly knew far better too. From everything she’d read, just one of them with a dragon would be one too many.
“If you become a rider, you’ll have to help with the…” The visitor lowered his voice, but Violet still caught the word, her eyes focusing solely on him. “Venin.”
“Papa,” Violet turned to her father quickly, interrupting whatever conversation he was having with her siblings. “I’m going to speak to the princes for a bit.”
It wasn’t an unusual request. There weren’t many children near Violet’s age in the castle, so sometimes she managed to find her way into their games; usually with the task of finding them, which she rarely managed, but at least they let her join in.
Her father waved a hand in acceptance, and Violet jumped from her seat, heading straight towards the high table. She never went behind it, she’d have to be invited for that, and that would likely never happen.
“What do you want?” Alic’s sneer turned on Violet the moment she arrived. “We’re having princes talk. Not suitable for you, little girl.”
Violet’s eyebrows furrowed, but she gestured to the other boy. “I heard him talk about Venin,” she said quietly. “My father tells me stories about them at bedtime, I hoped to hear more.”
“”Him, Violet? That’s no way to address a prince.” Halden said, his voice, as always, softer than his brother’s.
Violet turned towards the prince, who was watching the twins with what Violet guessed was surprise. “My apologies, Your Highness,” Violet said, dipping her head.
“Please don’t,” the boy said, looking distinctly uncomfortable as Violet looked at him again. “My name’s Xaden.”
“Xaden,” Violet felt herself smile as she repeated it. “I’m Violet.”
“Well, Violet,” Xaden started, and Violet had a sudden urge to leave them. “I don’t have stories to share, but I’d like to hear yours.”