Chapter Thirteen

Violet pulled herself from the mattress the next morning, hardly having slept a wink. She'd found herself quite distressed while trying to sleep when she realized she couldn't recall a single thing Oswald had said during dinner, but she had been aware of every slight mutter Count Olaf had made.

"It's just being cooped up," she whispered to assure herself, standing from the mattress and quickly changing for the day while Alec was still asleep. Probably due to her tumultuous childhood, Violet had adapted quickly to the darkness of the pantry and was able to get ready for the day using only the small sliver of light offered from the hole in the ceiling. The sun was peeking in through Count Olaf's room and, thus, a single ray found its way under his bed and into their small quarters. Once dressed, however, there was nothing to do but sit and wait for Count Olaf to wake and unlock the door.

Violet found the edge of the mattress and sat with a sigh, her back to the only stretch of wall not covered with shelves. Being trapped in the pantry meant being trapped with her thoughts, which kept finding their way toward Count Olaf. Cooped up, indeed. She was older now, of course, no longer a child as she was the last time she found herself in his clutches. It was normal, surely, to feel conflicted when she hardly saw anyone other than him and Alec.

Making excuses did not lessen the knot lodged in her throat. Violet was glad to hear Count Olaf stirring from the floor above - she would soon be out of the cramped pantry and able to distract herself with menial housework.

Count Olaf, on the other hand, had different plans.

"Butler!" he said as he unlocked the door. Alec stirred for a quick moment and then shot up, torn from his dream. "Get up and dressed this instant! Violet and I will need breakfast before our trip into town!"

Violet's stomach gave a terrible twist. "Tow-," she said, then cleared her throat. "Town?"

"Yes, town," he said. "Where else do you think we'll be getting our accessories for the ball?"

Accessories for the ball?

"Count Olaf," Violet said quietly. The only noise in her moment's pause was Alec shuffling about behind her. "I really…," again she stopped, trying to gather her nerve. He was staring at her with those shiny eyes and Violet's gaze instantly dropped to the space between them. "I don't think we should go."

Even Alec stopped. She could feel the boy's tense eyes on her from behind. No one ever went against Count Olaf's wishes. Surely she should have known he was in a mood that morning, considering how he'd yanked the door open and barked at Alec.

"What did you say?" Count Olaf said. His tone was quiet, but laced with fury. When she didn't answer, he took a step closer to her and leaned down near her face. "Look at me," he said just above a whisper.

Violet's eyes glazed over and she looked up to him. Her cheeks burned pink. The expression on his face was menacing and predatory. She would have wondered what had him in such a foul mood, but Violet knew this was just Count Olaf. He didn't need a specific reason to be cruel.

Alec was frozen behind them, watching the tense scene unfold. Count Olaf reached up and cupped Violet's cheek. His thumb absentmindedly brushed the corner of her lips. "What did you say, Violet?" he said quietly.

She swallowed, all too aware of his hand on her face. There was a strange clash of emotions inside her - an odd flit of girlish nerves, but fear at the memory of him striking her. Heat overtook her cheeks.

She shouldn't have said anything - she'd let herself forget how dangerous Count Olaf could be. And how quickly his moods could change. Violet wanted to look away, but her mind refused her desire, controlled by his earlier order.

"I don't think we should go," she whispered.

Count Olaf's fingers tightened slightly on her jaw. "Alec," he said, tone calm. He never once dropped his gaze from Violet's. "Go upstairs and start working on the restroom. I will take care of breakfast."

Violet's stomach squirmed. Alec did not move, prompting Count Olaf to add a nasty, "Now."

What reserve of courage Alec had was lost. Violet felt him scurry past them and heard the quick thumps of his feet dashing up the stairs.

"Count Olaf," Violet said warily, trying to take a preemptive stance of innocence. "I didn't mea-"

"I'm not concerned with what you mean," he said, mocking her. "I am concerned with your preoccupation with that boy when you should be preoccupied with our plans."

He might as well have said when you should be preoccupied with me.

Despite the urge to shrink away, Violet's face flushed - not with embarrassment, but anger. It seemed unnatural on her. "I am preoccupied with our plans," she argued, a hot edge to her voice as she missed his obvious jealousy. "I think constantly of our ascent into the mountains - obsessively, Count Olaf. And what do you have to fear?" For a moment it was as if Violet's eyes shone as bright as Olaf's, fury lighting them as it often did his. The words spilled out of her mouth in a nasty snarl. "Should you not trust me? You have only to command me and I will do as you say."

Violet's mouth felt bitter the moment her irritation was spewed out at him. The light left her eyes with a huff of breath - afraid and hesitant. The most unfortunate point was made in the fact that she still couldn't look away. Violet wanted to. She felt embarrassed and foolish for her outburst and ached to look anywhere except him.

It did not go unnoticed by Count Olaf, who enjoyed her lack of power at his hands quite a bit.

"Fine," he said sharply. "Let us keep it that way, shall we?" Violet's stomach lurched in a nervous explosion. The count looked at her intently as if willing her obedience himself and not through some form of hypnotism. "I am the only person whose orders you will obey," he said slowly. Darkly. "You will exercise free will with anyone else, but you will do every single thing that I tell you to do. Understand?"

Violet's eyes had gone hazy again, the anger ebbing from her expression as it became vacant for a moment. She gave a slow nod before her vision sharpened once more.

"Tell me you understand," he said, watching her expression like a hawk.

Violet's eyes clouded. "I understand."

"Good."

There was no way for her to know. No possible way that Violet could have fathomed the source of Olaf's anger. The night before had not been an easy one for Count Olaf. There wasn't much sleep to be had. How could he find sleep when his mind was so obsessed with the idea of that boy looking at her the night before? And jealous thoughts easily become rabbit holes. By the dawn, Olaf was sleep deprived and furious at the thought of the boy easily commanding Violet as he did. What if he got her alone at the ball? Told her to do improper things? Been pleased to see her eagerness at doing as he wished?

That last thought - or rather Count Olaf being pleased with Violet eager to do things for himself - created a tight coil near the base of his spine. Gooseflesh covered his arms at the thought and, even though he thought many improper things, he was almost ashamed for that one. Not wanting to let his mind go any further, he had thrown the blankets to the floor and started his day in the foulest of moods. `

"Get in the car," he said with a snarl, finally stepping away from her. Violet was glad to find she could now look to her feet. "You've ruined our breakfast plans and now we'll have to stop on the way and I am a busy man."

And so Violet did. She and Count Olaf spent the entire day out together as he'd wished it, though there were no small favors on that day, no quiet moments where Violet thought he might not be so bad afterall. He was beastly the entire day. And it was for that reason that caused the most despair for Violet, who just kept as quiet as she could during their entire trip. Because despite his horridness, it was still there, in the pit of her stomach. The girlish flit of nerves to be there next to him, to have his attention. And she nearly despised herself for it.