[color=gray]
[center][h1][color=red]FLASHBACK[/color][/h1]
[H2][color=4C93C2]Calbert[/color] [color=D35F56]&[/color] [color=firebrick]Violet[/color][/h2][/center][hr]

Another attack.


Violet sat in the office her mother had made for her, a space cluttered with knowledge and secrets. Shelves overflowed with worn books, strange trinkets, bundles of dried herbs tied with string, and delicate glass vials filled with blood that caught the light like dark jewels. The air was thick with the scent of iron and old paper. But despite being surrounded by tools meant to bring clarity, she was no closer to the truth. Only more questions.


Her crimson eyes slowly scanned the room, searching as if the answers might be hiding in plain sight. With a long sigh, she leaned back in her chair, the wood groaning quietly beneath her. Her thoughts drifted back to that morning, to Alexander’s calm, calculated voice.


“As for your father’s possible concerns. Compulsion is not necessary to sway him. Safety and protection for his family are his priorities, but he also values the political power he holds. Use those motivations to your advantage successfully, and I promise to show you how to compel.”


Her teeth found the tip of her thumb, pressing down idly as her mind spun. The edge of her fang grazed her skin, a familiar sting she barely noticed. She was too lost in thought, wrapped up in questions and possibilities.


A door shut somewhere in the house. Her father’s office.


The sound cut through the silence like a blade. Her thumb slipped from her mouth as she blinked, pulled back to the moment. She drew in a slow breath to steady herself and rose from her seat.


She left the room, her steps cautious but deliberate, and made her way to the office. Standing before the door, she hesitated for just a heartbeat, then lifted her hand and knocked gently.


The door opened rather quickly, and her father’s figure filled her vision, illuminated by the dim light of the office. Calbert stood framed in the doorway, long dark hair falling over his shoulders, steady blue eyes looking down at her. There was still weight in his expression — the kind that had settled on him since the chaos of the banquet night, but it softened as his gaze lingered on her. Greeted by her Crimson eyes, Violet looked up at her father but didn’t say anything. 


[color=#4C93C2]“Violet,”[/color] he greeted. For a moment, it sounded as though he might say more, but instead, he stepped back, holding the door open for her. [color=#4C93C2]“Come in…”[/color] She stepped around him, walking through the door as she clasped her hands in front of herself. She found her way near his desk, standing just beside the chair. 


As she entered, the heaviness in his demeanor did not lift. It clung to the lines of his face, the tight set of his jaw, and the restrained tension in his shoulders. The knowledge that his children had been attacked and the haunting image of Cassius returning home wounded — it all weighed on him like a shadow that refused to leave.


[color=#4C93C2]“My dearest girl… there is no torment quite like knowing that you and Cassius were in danger, and I was not there to stand between you and the blade… And worse still, that I did not foresee it.”[/color] His gaze softened, though the sorrow in it was unmistakable. [color=#4C93C2]“I have been… hoping for the chance to speak with you.”[/color]


Shoulders relaxing, Violet offered him a softened smile. [color=firebrick]”I was hoping to speak with you as well. Do you have some time? I imagine you're rather busy with everything so I didn’t want to disturb you.”[/color]


[color=#4C93C2]“For you, Violet, I will always have time.”[/color]


Calbert moved from the doorway. He crossed the room and eased himself into the chair behind his desk, the leather creaking softly beneath him. His hand swept across a stack of parchment, tidying it absently before his gaze returned to her. He then gestured toward the chair opposite, the lines around his eyes softening.


[color=#4C93C2]“Tell me what weighs on you.”[/color]


Sitting in her chair, Violet rested her hands in her lap against the fabrics of her dress [color=firebrick] “Something has been troubling me for some time.”[/color] She admitted as she began taking in a breath before continuing.


[color=firebrick]” When Cassius was taken, I felt useless. [/color] She looked at her father with conviction. [color=firebrick]“I won't stand by helplessly again while our family suffers. You’ve taught me what loyalty means, but I want to know now how to defend it.”[/color]


[color=#4C93C2]“My dear Violet,”[/color] he began,[color=#4C93C2]“your resolve honors me.”[/color] Surprised at her father's words, Violet leaned back against her chair, listening intently. 


He paused, folding his hands together. [color=#4C93C2]“But understand this… True defense is not won by swinging blindly at shadows. Whoever dared strike at us has means, patience, and purpose. To protect one another, we must not act rashly. We must know who, and why, before we answer with force. Knowledge is the sharpest weapon in our arsenal.”[/color]


His gaze hardened, [color=#4C93C2]“You and your brother have both been touched by danger once already. I will not see it happen again because pride clouded our judgment. For now, you must remain low: no travel without guards, no walks in the night without watchful eyes nearby. Cassius as well. It is not weakness, my dear, but prudence. The moment will come when we strike back, and when it does, we will not miss. But until then… we watch, we listen, and we prepare.”[/color]


He gave a faint smile, his tone softening as he reached across to rest his hand gently on hers. [color=#4C93C2]“When Cassius has recovered his strength, perhaps he can help you train… to sharpen your skills should the day come when you must stand in defense. And in doing so, he too will learn discipline. You will strengthen one another, as you must if this family is to endure But know this…”[/color] His lashes lowered briefly as he exhaled a quiet sigh. [color=#4C93C2]“I would much rather see you spared from such burdens. You have endured enough already. I will take this matter to the King as well.”[/color]


She offered him a soft smile, her free hand moving to place on top of his. [color=firebrick]” Thank you, Father. It has been hard. From my injury, the attack on me at the park, the banquette, the attack just the last evening…”[/color] She took in a deep breath, letting out a long sigh.


 [color=firebrick] “ In truth, I don't want to fight, not in the way you may think. As you said, knowledge is a far sharper weapon in any arsenal. Learning more outside of simple courting etiquette and frivolous dining manners.”[/color]


Violet adjusted herself in the chair, clearing her throat. [color=firebrick] “As I am sure you have heard, I’ve taken the role of Mr. Deacon's assistant. Although I understand that it may seem out of place for a lady to work, I am not your typical lady, Father. I don't think it needs to be said that my source of nourishment these days excludes me from being anything but typical. Learning simple tasks and giving myself purpose has done wonders for me, and I hope to continue learning and expanding my knowledge. Mr Deacon has been a great advocate for that, allowing me this opportunity.“[/color]


He let the silence breathe, then closed his eyes as if willing the room to still. One hand rose to the bridge of his nose; the other flattened on the desk, steadying the tremor that wanted to show.


[color=#4C93C2]“It has been far too much, my darling. I see it in your eyes, and it pains me.”[/color] His lashes lifted. For an instant, his expression slipped and the grief behind his stare  was raw before her. Then the mask settled back into place. [color=#4C93C2]“And though the world has conspired to heap burdens upon you, you are still here, still resolute. That is no small victory.”[/color] Violet eyes fell for a brief moment, knowing too well that she had almost given up, yet Alexander kept pushing her forward. 


He turned a stack of parchment a quarter-inch, aligning edges that were already aligned, then exhaled through his nose. [color=#4C93C2]“I nearly lost you once… and [i]I will not tempt fate again.[/i]”[/color] A darker edge threaded the vow as he rose and rounded the desk. He stopped close enough to console, not to crowd; his palm hovered over her shoulder before settling there with measured gentleness.


[color=#4C93C2]“I know you wish to play this wisely, but you must trust me in this, Violet: you and your brother [i]must[/i] be more careful. You are a lady and a lord of House Damien; there are few places to simply disappear in the streets.”[/color] He withdrew, returning to his chair, the signet clicking once against the armrest.


[color=#4C93C2]“Every step you take is watched.”[/color]


He tipped his head, studying her. [color=#4C93C2]“…And yet, I confess my pride in your words. Those are not the ambitions of a helpless girl, but of someone who intends to shape outcomes rather than endure them. That is the mark of a Damien,”[/color] he said, a faint smile touching his mouth. [color=#4C93C2]“The mark of a powerful woman.”[/color]


[color=#4C93C2]“You bring up Alexander Deacon.”[/color] He let the silence invite truth. [color=#4C93C2]“Tell me, Violet… how did this partnership begin? And what [i]precisely[/i] has he placed in your hands? Do not mistake my questions for distrust,  I simply hope to see the whole board so that I can better assist you.”[/COLOR]



[color=firebrick]"It was nothing grand at first, Father. A conversation at one of the events, a curiosity of wanting more from life, and then… an invitation. Mr. Deacon is a man of stature, of vision, and even the smallest chance to assist him felt like a rare honor. He entrusts me with the things that would otherwise pull him away from his greater pursuits. Letters to be delivered, accounts to be kept in order, matters of schedule, and correspondence. Simple tasks, yes… but I hope, in time, to be entrusted with more. I have long admired your work, the purpose you found in it, and perhaps this is my way of seeking the same. After all, I’ve been given so much time, Father… I would rather not squander it without meaning."[/color] 


When she finished, he gave her hand a reassuring squeeze before releasing it.


[color=#4C93C2]“Purpose suits you,”[/color] he said at last, voice low. 

[color=#4C93C2]“Practical work may seem simple, but simplicity opens doors. Letters become patterns. Schedules become maps. Maps become leverage.”[/color]


He leaned back, fingers steepled, a thoughtful shadow crossing his features and passing.
[color=#4C93C2]“You should also know I have set a table for the truth. Mr. Deacon will dine with our family here on Ignis the Second, at the sixth hour.”[/color] A faint smile touched his mouth. [color=#4C93C2]“I prefer to judge intentions over a table rather than on parchment.”[/color]


He let that hang for a heartbeat, then continued. [color=#4C93C2]“Between now and then, indulge me a few precautions. Keep a private ledger for yourself—dates, names, what was asked and by whom. Duplicate any letters you carry; Henry will secure the copies. No errands after dusk, and never without an escort. If Mr. Deacon values your talents, he will respect the conditions that keep you safe.”[/color] Violet nodded in understanding. 


[color=#4C93C2]“On Ignis the Second, we will see how his account aligns with yours: what he says, and more importantly, what he chooses not to. From that, we will decide what serves [i]you[/i] and what serves this house.”[/color]


He paused then admitted with a softer smile, [color=#4C93C2]“... No matter the outcome,  I am proud of you, Violet Damien, not for what you do, but for who you are. Whatever comes, that pride, that love, will never falter.”[/color]


Violet’s lips curved into a tender smile at his praise.


[color=firebrick]“You honor me, Father… I only hope I can live up to the Damien name. If I have any measure of strength, it is because of you.”[/color] Her voice carried quiet warmth, though her hands folded neatly in her lap, still and composed.


[color=#4C93C2]“You have never failed me, Violet. Whatever strength you carry, it is yours.”[/color]
She hesitated, drawing in a breath as though gathering courage. [color=firebrick]“I will keep the ledger, as you ask. I will follow your precautions.”[/color] 


Her head tilted just slightly, a touch of curiosity tempered by deference. [color=firebrick]“Forgive me if it is bold to ask, but for my curiosity, what is it you hope to find out from him?”[/color]


[color=#4C93C2] “Bold, perhaps. But not unwelcome.”[/color] Calbert hummed thoughtfully as he pondered how he wanted to answer her question.


For a moment, she let the silence stretch, as though reluctant to overstep. Then, gently, she added [color=firebrick]“What sort of man do you believe him to be? A patron? An ally? Or something more elusive?”[/color]


[color=#4C93C2]” What I hope to find from Mr. Deacon is not simply whether he is friend or foe. That is far too crude a lens. Men like him seldom fit into such tidy categories.”[/color]  His gaze steadied on his daughter. [color=#4C93C2]“No, what I seek is where his [i]interests[/i] intersect with our own, and where they diverge. Hold that question at every turn, and you will not be led astray.“[/color] 


He smiled, but it did not reach his eyes.[color=#4C93C2]“That is why I have called him to our table. What he tells you, and what he tells me, must be weighed together. But more telling will be what he chooses not to say. It is in omissions that true designs are glimpsed.”[/color]


[color=firebrick]“ I see…”[/color] she responded softly. [i]...Men like him[/i] had he already made up his mind about who Alexander was?
[color=firebrick]“ I am afraid that I still have much to learn.”[/color] She let out a soft sigh as her expression softened.  [color=firebrick]“ Perhaps had I known what Roman’s interests were, that whole situation at the dinner could have been avoided.”[/color] 


Calbert’s fingers drumming once on the desk before stilling. [color=#4C93C2]“Do not burden yourself with that, Violet. Roman’s behavior was not the work of his own interests. What you saw was no man in control of himself, but a pawn moved by another hand.”[/color]


He leaned back, voice lower. [color=#4C93C2]“No foresight of yours could have prevented it. The fault lies not with you, nor even fully with him, but with whoever thought to use him to strike at this family. And they will find the cost of that mistake… steep.”[/color]


Her eyes flicked up to look at her Father, her face paled more than its natural color. [color=firebrick]“You… You mean that the whole situation was a setup? To string me up and drag me in front of the entire court?”[/color] Her eyes seemed to dart around as her mind raced. [color=firebrick]“I-I…He..”[/color] She looked up at her father as the glitter of tears seemed to gloss her eyes, but it wasn’t sadness, it was anger. 



Calbert’s jaw tightened, his lashes immediately lowering as the sound of her voice embedded itself into his very bones. 


[color=#4C93C2]“... You and I both know that Roman Ravenwood is not a cruel man.”[/color] His gaze locked onto the signet on his finger as he sighed. [color=#4C93C2]“Reckless perhaps, but never cruel. But that night he smiled as if it were all theater. Even Prince Callum found ways to defend him that defied all reason. ”[/color] Violet glanced away for a moment, letting his words sink in. 


The leather beneath his hands groaned faintly as he gripped the arms of the chair, his gaze still lowered. [color=#4C93C2]“He goaded Cassius relentlessly until the very moment Lady Vikena suddenly embraced him. I watched the shift in his eyes right then, and I watched the words die on his tongue. It was that which told me everything: that he had chosen his targets. He had not come to that banquet with the intention to mock each and every noble, but to strike where it would cut us deepest… More specifically, he was striking at you and Cassius to get a rise out of me.”[/color]


At last, his steady gaze lifted to hers, heavy with sorrow. [color=#4C93C2]“ He may very well have loved you, and still love you, my darling.”[/color] He smiled sadly, [color=#4C93C2]“How could he not?”[/color] The smile was temporary, but he did reach out to take her hand one more time. [color=#4C93C2]“ That night, whatever game he was bound to play took precedence. Every word and every smile was all part of a strategy… And strategy,”[/color] his voice dropped quieter, [color=#4C93C2]“is a crueler master than heart.”[/color]


[color=firebrick]“Strategy may be cruel, Father… but it is nothing compared to that of a scorned lady.”[/color] Her voice cracked, low and unsteady, though the words carried a weight that mimicked her fragility. She bowed her head for a moment. 


[color=firebrick]“Love may have blinded me, but pain has a way of sharpening the eyes, of showing the truth.”[/color] Her lashes lowered as her hand lingered over her father’s, though her mind had already drifted elsewhere. To Alexander. [/color]