Earning the Love of a Princess-Chapter 339: Epilogue: Where Did the Years Go?

Violet took a slow breath, determined to not bite back at Leo’s jibe. The last thing Celia needed was to see her parents descend into an all out screaming match during her last night in Islia.

"I’m honestly surprised you noticed a missing set of earrings. Or that you care that much, given the mountain of other jewellery you have." Leo strode back into the bedchamber as he fiddled with the gold buttons on his tunic collar. He looked nowhere as disturbed as Violet had hoped he’d be. "Surely you can just wear another pair tonight?"

"No I can’t! These ones were important to me, Leo. And I don’t understand why you’re not more concerned that we have a thief amongst us!"

Leo shrugged as if it were a minor thing. "For fuck’s sake, wife. If a servant wants to steal a little trinket or two, who can really blame them? Just let them be. They’re all poor folks and they support their families with what we pay them. And it’s not like you don’t have the funds to get more earrings, right?"

Such a typical rich man response, Violet fumed silently as she stared at the heavy gold embroidery on her skirt. When all you’ve ever known in life is abundance, of course you value nothing, you spoiled fool. Your kind will never knows how it feels to scrounge for every little gain and every coin until you can finally lift yourself up from poverty.

"Oh, I see. So I should just let the servants rob us blind, then?" she snapped back. "Why don’t we just give them all of our gold? Or your prized horses, even a manor or two?"

"That’s not what I said, but of course that’s how you’d take it." Leo huffed out a tired sigh and closed his eyes for a moment. "This isn’t the time to start a fight. I’ve had a very long day and I’m hungry. Can you just finish getting dressed now, so we can go down to the goddamn banquet? Everyone will be expecting us and Celia needs us there."

"Fine." Violet lashed out. "I guess I’ll deal with the problem alone, for a change. But if thieves ever pocket something you care about, I don’t want to hear a word of complaint from you!"

She couldn’t really explain why the earrings were so important to her. At least not without having her husband jeering at her.

They were the first earrings she’d ever commissioned for herself as a royal princess.

Gold hoops dripping in amethysts.

She’d had them designed to be a grander, more expensive version of the hoop earrings Leo had gifted Ilse during that summer he’d courted her.

Violet had never been particularly fond of amethysts. But she remembered how at the time, she’d felt a compulsion to top everything Ilse had ever been or done or owned. She’d had a relentless drive to prove she could be a princess of equal or even greater value than her twin.

It had been a ridiculous notion, of course. Nothing she’d done back then, ever made her feel like more than a pale imitation of Ilse. Nothing had soothed her aching heart.

Violet Thierre - always everyone’s second choice. Even when her competition was dead.

Now, the golden hoops were a symbol of all she’d had to endure to find herself where she was. And in the oddest way, wearing them made her feel closer to her sister.

It was all she had left of her, really. Ilse hadn’t visited her dreams in years. Violet tried to cling to her sister’s memory, tried to keep Ilse’s voice and her laughter securely locked in her mind.

But it grew harder and harder with each passing day. Holding on to Ilse was like trying to hold onto a handful of sand.

How could Violet ever explain all that to Leo - or to anyone, really - and expect them to understand her? 𝓯𝓻𝒆𝙚𝒘𝓮𝙗𝓷𝒐𝓿𝙚𝒍.𝙘𝓸𝙢

With an irritated snort, Leo stalked to the bedchamber door and yanked it open with a thud. He swept his arm in gesture towards the open door, clearly waiting for his wife to pass through their apartments and head down to the banquet.

Violet tried to move towards the door, intending to sweep past him and not bother giving her ill humoured, insensitive clod of a husband even another glance for the rest of the night.

She told herself that Leo could do whatever he wanted at the banquet and she wouldn’t do much as sniff in his direction. He could drink himself unconscious or flirt with every eligible woman in that goddamn hall. She wouldn’t care in the slightest.

But for some reason, her legs were refusing to cooperate and move her out of the bedchamber.

Violet instead found herself standing stiffly in place and looking up at Leo with eyes that were starting to prickle. She opened her mouth but no sound came out.

Oh lord, what was happening to her?

Why was her self control failing her now, of all possible moments?

At a time when she needed to be nothing but ice and steel, if she had any hope of surviving saying farewell to her daughter.

Leo looked at her in annoyance until he saw her rapidly building tears. With a sigh, he strode back to her and wrapped an arm around her.

That was all it took.

Violet began to sob as he pressed her into his chest. She clutched handfuls of his tunic as her feelings hit her like a thunderclap. These weren’t the tears she’d used so many times to manipulate a situation or garner sympathy.

These were tears of genuine grief.

And her ill humoured, insensitive clod of a husband was the only one who could truly understand what it was costing her to send Celia away.

"She’s leaving us, Leo. Our little girl is leaving us for good." her voice cracked as she wept in despair. "Where did the years go?"

"I wish I knew." Leo’s voice, usually so loud and boisterous, was now quiet with gruff emotion. "I know this is the best future we can plan for Celia. We’re making her a queen. But it doesn’t make saying goodbye any easier, does it?" His large hands patted Violet’s back as she cried, gently rocking her as if she were a child herself.

"We can’t protect her anymore and it scares me. I’d do anything to shield her from any unhappiness." Violet sobbed as she scrubbed her streaming eyes. "But I can’t."

"Neither of us can." Leo sighed. "She’s a grown woman."

"What if Celia ends up miserable though? What if her marriage ends up being nothing but a disaster?"

"You mean like ours was in our early years, when we fought nonstop like angry cats?"

Despite her crying, Violet jerked back and looked up at her husband in surprise. He was smiling with wry amusement, though his eyes were sad.

"I suppose so. Actually, don’t we still fight that way?" she asked with a weak laugh.

"We do, though not as much anymore." Leo’s smile widened. "I won’t lie, wife. There have been times I’ve wanted to wrap my hands around your throat. I know you’ve thought the same about me."

"Oh yes. More times than I can count."

"Why, thank you for such brutal honesty." Leo drawled. "But we’ve made it through, haven’t we? Every marriage has its battles. We may not have been each other’s first choices. Yet here we still are, able to live side by side and raise a family. And we’re better to each other now than in the beginning. That’s progress, isn’t it?"

Violet nodded shakily.

"I hope it’s the same for our girl. That she’ll look back on a less than perfect beginning and find that actually, things turned out alright."

She nodded again, seeing the value of Leo’s words. The she stepped back slightly so she could study his familiar face.

Her husband was still a handsome enough man, even at forty years. His eyes were still a piercing, frosty blue. The silver at his temples and sprinkled through his beard made him look more like his father, the ever irascible King Edward, with every passing year.

To her, his face had finally become...as familiar as her own.

Their union hadn’t been a love match. Nor had it ever been driven by great passion, apart from their very earliest days, a time Violet still recalled with discomfort.

But she’d unexpectedly grown to care for him in a way, she realised. Leo had been at her side through so many years and so many events. He’d always defended her publicly as his wife, even if he’d railed at her in private.

He was still headstrong and prone to indolence, though not as boorish as he’d been as a young man. He could finally manage his temper better. Leo was still a womaniser, but tried to be more discreet and never lingered long with his dalliances. More often than not, Violet found that she could rather enjoy his company and his blunt sense of humour.

They’d both once vowed to cherish and stand by each other, hadn’t they? She recalled how she’d repeated those words from the priest, standing at the altar in the royal chapel almost two decades ago.

At the time, Violet had thought she had no choice but to marry the prince to save her own neck, and she’d been resentful about it.

Leo hadn’t exactly looked thrilled either.

But in the end, it hadn’t been the worst outcome, had it?