Part 2
Violette looked at the small bottle she was holding. It was almost empty, she needed to go and gather more herbs as soon as possible. The problem was that she needed to be extremely careful, if anyone would notice what she was doing, she would be in a lot of trouble. She would be tortured, perhaps even executed for practicing witchcraft. Using herbs wasn't witchcraft, it was a skill her beloved nursemaid Rodmilla had taught her when she had been a child, but she was very much aware what the church taught about such skills.
If anyone would know why she was taking these herbs… She knew that it was a great sin, but she was hoping that God would understand. Violette took a deep breath and took a sip out of the bottle. She knew that Lord Tristan was coming to her chamber tonight. The thought didn't really make her feel anything, not anymore. The first time had been painful and she had been nervous, perhaps even scared, but she had managed not to show that to him.
Refusing the Count's son had never been an option to a woman in her position; she had no father, brothers or even uncles to protect her. All her father's possession, including her dowry, belonged to Count de Martel. She needed to be very careful for not to aggravate the Count. Or his son. Fortunately Violette had lived in the castle long enough to know what to say and how to act. Rodmilla had raised her to be a strong and resourceful woman. Violette was more than grateful for everything Rodmilla had taught her.
Maybe she couldn't control the most parts of her life, but thanks to these herbs, she could at least control one part. She wouldn't have an illegitimate child. There would be no future for her if that would happen. If she would be very lucky, Lord Tristan would be gracious enough to support her and the child, but they would no doubt be send to some distant estate far away from Marseille. All Violette's hopes for any kind of freedom would be gone for good; she would be completely dependent on Tristan's mercifulness. That was the last thing she wanted.
If only she wouldn't have lost her father… He had never been a kind man and he had never forgiven her for being a girl, but Tristan had left her alone as long as her father had still been alive. Violette had noticed how Tristan had looked at her ever since her body had become the body of a woman and she had known what would happen after her father have died. Thankfully Rodmilla had explained those things to her after her first moon blood; she had wanted to prepare Violette for everything.
Carefully Violette hid the bottle and kneeled next to her bed. She prayed, just like she did every night. She prayed for freedom. Yes, she should have prayed for a husband, but so far she hadn't met a man she would wish to marry. Most noblemen were more or less like Count de Martel; cruel drunkards who treated their wives as their property. Violette didn't know how her father had treated her mother; she had been just an infant when her mother had died.
Of course her father had taken a new wife, but she had failed to give him sons, only a daughter who had died many winters ago. Violette hadn't really known her sister, they had been kept apart. Her father's new wife had never liked her stepdaughter and certainly hadn't cared what happened to Violette after the death of her father. She herself had remarried soon after becoming a widow; her new husband was an old, but very wealthy nobleman. Violette was just finishing her prayers when she heard a knock and quickly stood up. The door opened and Tristan entered her chamber.
"Good evening, Violette," he stated.
"Good evening, my lord," she replied and curtsied. She had prepared for his visit by bathing, wearing a nightgown and asking the servant girl to leave her hair down. She truly hoped that he would make it quick tonight, she was very tired. He walked over to her and touched her hair. The look in his usually cold eyes was hungry, his lips curved into a smile as he observed her.
"You look ravishing."
"Thank you, my lord."
"Did you enjoy the feast tonight?"
"I did, my lord. And you?"
"Yes, I did."
He paused and ran his fingers softly over her cheek, giving her a chance to have a conversation before getting to the point. At least he was polite for pretending to care what she had to say. Despite of his reputation, he had never been violent toward her and she had no doubt that she could have asked favors from him. She had never done that and she wasn't going to, she still had some pride left, as ridiculous as that probably was.
After reaching the conclusion that she was done talking, he cupped her chin and kissed her. It didn't feel bad, she had got used to his touch by now. The act itself hadn't really hurt after the first time and if he was particularly rough, he usually asked was he hurting her. Things could have been much worse; she was more than aware of that. Still she felt empty. She hoped for something more.
