Chapter 3

Violet’s POV

I was pleased with the number of people who decided to come over and talk to me during or after their dinner. Not everyone did, and that was okay, too. Most people at least came over to thank me for their meal and shake my hand.

I was surprised by the number of people though who expressed concern for me. They commented on how much I’ve been through, especially how much of it was out of my control: the very public betrayal of Lucas, the change of heart by the Goddess for my mate bond with Theo, and the unfathomable pardoning by the king for what Lucas had done on my and Theo’s wedding night.

Disgust for that last one came up much more than I was expecting.

It was moving though to see how much the pattern of concern was directed toward my well-being – not how my personal hardship would impact Darkmoon. Every time someone checked in on me, it was followed by something to the effect of, “I’m not surprised to see you out here among your people now though. You’ve always been a fighter.”

Marissa, a single mother of three, gave her kids coloring books on the other side of my large table while she and I bonded over the necessity of getting back up after you’ve been knocked down.

“I know it’s not at all the same as having to take care of a whole territory,” she said as she gazed adoringly down the table at her three kids under the age of ten, “but I’m sure that, like being a single mom, you don’t have sick days or mental health days. When life shits on you, you’re only option is to keep going. For those who depend on you.”

Tears gleamed in her eyes as she turned to face me again. “It’s not even close to fair, but it’s worth every sacrifice we make.”

I smiled as the words resonated, my hand floating to my stomach out of sight, under the table.

Her kids were impressively well-behaved, though I noticed their furtive glances to the shattered band on my forehead. Marissa managed not to look at it once, but she was one of the only adults I spoke with that night who didn’t.

Though most spared it a glance at the least, no one asked about it. I was grateful for it because I had no answers.

Only one gentleman offered me pity. Not empathy, but condescending pity.

“You must have done something to piss off our king,” he said, “with the way he pardoned Lucas after he clearly hurt you. And now King Owen is punishing everyone for whatever you did with his land restructuring and increased taxes. Maybe you have something left to learn about diplomacy.”

“Your marital problems,” he added as he stood to leave, “aren’t good enough reason to throw your territory at the king’s mercy.”

I gaped in shock at such a skewed perspective for all of a half second before I schooled my face into neutrality. Thankfully, his back was turned so he couldn’t see he’d hit his mark.

It was disappointing to find such a staunch supporter of the king in my own territory, and it was also exactly the information I needed.

On the flip side, there were those like the college kids I’d spoken with earlier in the coffee shop.

“Astounding,” Davis said, “embarrassing, demoralizing, heart-breaking, unforgiveable. He actually pardoned a terrible person who did an unspeakable thing – that the entire country saw proof of in that video. I appreciate that you want to do your best in Darkmoon, but until an even half-way decent werewolf wears the crown, your good deeds here will always be over-shadowed by the king’s treachery.”

Davis and his husband weren’t the only two to express that sentiment either. Finding that there were even more people who wanted a new king was important information to gather, too.

And then there were those somewhere in the middle. Rory, who came from a long line of cobblers, spoke with me along with her brother and sister. They were probably about a decade older than me.

“It’s immoral, what the king pardoned Lucas for,” Rory said, her siblings nodding along in agreement. “But the king has the power to pardon people. He didn’t break the law.”

Rory sat back in her chair and her siblings mirrored the motion. “Laws keep a society from descending into chaos. As long as laws are abided, who am I to complain?”

I jotted that in my notebook, too.

What was most interesting to me though was that I only ever asked for feedback on the Darkmoon territory. All these people, probably 90% of the people I spoke with, brought up their opinions on the king without any prompting from me.

It was the most important observation I made all night.

About two-thirds of the way through the evening, I received a text from Kincaid asking why he was seeing on social media that I was holding an informal town hall at Martelli’s. I looked up to find Sinclair, Kincaid’s second who had been trailing me all day and was currently tucked into the restaurant’s shadows, also reading something on his phone. I assumed it was a berating text from Kincaid.

Of course, Lily was next to Sinclair, too, having kept me in her sights all day, watching for any sign of hallucination.

I assured Kincaid that I was taking the necessary precautions, then turned it around to chastise him for working on his vacation. He pointed out that if I was assassinated while he was away, he wouldn’t have a job to come back to. I promised to rip off the head of anyone who attempted to murder me.

The next couple who sat with me were particularly affectionate with each other. Not in a gross way but in a heart-warming way. I caught myself reaching for the token I wished was still around my neck.

I hated keeping Theo’s mother’s token, or Theo’s token as we had learned it truly was in Henosis, under my pillow instead of around my neck. But that was just a tiny, temporary sacrifice I knew would be worthwhile in the end.

The affectionate couple, Paul and Suri, briefly expressed disapproval of the king, but mostly focused on Darkmoon.

“I’m just glad that Twining River creep is gone,” Suri said, and I wondered at my citizen’s tendency to not say Lucas’ name. “I try to keep an open mind, but I swear the roads have gotten worse since he came around. The sidewalks are decorated with real gold for some inexplicable reason, but you can’t drive next to them without getting stuck in a pothole.”

“You’re not the first to provide feedback on the decline in infrastructure,” I validated. “That is going to be one of the first problems I tackle.”

“We’re just glad your claim to Darkmoon was restored,” Suri said, her husband nodding vehemently next to her. “We were actually preparing to move territories when it looked like it was going to be left to Lucas.”

Suri smiled, reaching across the table to pat my arm. “We’re not going anywhere now.”

I smiled back. With everything going on, with the myriad of opinions I had listened to today, I had really needed to hear that.