That night, Violet sat at the ladies' table for dinner without Ilse, almost twitching with anticipation. Her senses were alert to any possible movement around her, to anyone who could be trying to get her attention or slip her a secret signal.
She finally understood the heady excitement of arranging a hidden tryst. She finally understood why other women would sneak around to meet their lovers without worrying about their reputations. For the first time in months since arriving at the suffocating court, Violet felt truly vital and alive.
She was no longer going to pretend to be content with the existence of a virtuous noblewoman. One who filled her dreary days with prayer and embroidery, and her nights waiting to be asked for a dance by courtiers that held no appeal.
No, she refused to let those be the only things in her life. She wanted much more.
