Violet smirks from behind the counter at the customers retreating back as they exited Madam Isla's bookstore. The customer didn't find what she was looking for, and yet she still left a few coins lighter. Violet's fingertips danced around the silver coins in her trouser pocket, humming in satisfaction with how easy it was to distract the noblewoman, simply a few compliments, a gesture to the books to the left and a swift swipe of her hand.
The bell on the door chimes as it slams open and Violet prepares for the lie to form on her tongue, nearly sighing in relief when she realized it wasn't the noblewomen returning for her missing coin but her brother. Ryder looks positively filthy, his tunic and trousers covered in mud, a bruise forming underneath his jaw and the stench of the sun closely accompanied him. She crinkles her lip distastefully at him. Ryder grins at her, dimples he inherited from his father prominent on his bronze skin. Ryder was in his nineteenth year, two years younger than Violet, but an inch taller than her despite it. They both had high cheekbones set upon a narrow face, though where Ryder inherited their mother's hazel eyes and auburn hair, Violet's eyes were emerald, her crimson hair unruly with curls in the summer heat, pulled tightly in a braid that dropped to the middle of her back. The only resemblance of her own father, her mother told her.
Ryder looked at Violet, his eyes going between her, and the spotless chaise customers liked to sit at while they perused books.
"Do not." Violet threatens as a grin splits Ryder's face in half, and he flopped onto the chaise, caked bits of mud falling onto the floorboards.
"Ryder Eltonwood, I swear to the gods themselves if you do not remove your filthy limbs off that chaise, I will rip you apart limb from limb!" Violet glowers at her brother who just closes his eyes in response, wholly unbothered. Violet stomps over to him, fully intending to make good on her promises when he rolled off, scurrying to his feet and bouncing out of her reach with a chuckle.
"I am trying to work here!" Violet yells at him, grabbing the broom behind the desk to sweep up the dirt he tracked in and perhaps smack him with it, too.
"Ah yes, thieving is such noble work, dear sister." Violet raises an eyebrow at him.
"And how was working for the farmer, brother? Harvest any crops today?" He winks, shoving his hand in his pocket, and flashing a dozen silver coins, a gasp escaping her at the sight.
"He had me deliver some items to the market after the harvest. People are so loose with their coin, these days." She chuckles, the irritation her brother had caused fading away as quickly as it appeared.
"Remember what I told you: not to steal from the hand that hired you." She reminds him and Ryder rolls his eyes.
"I haven't, Mother." He mocks. "I'm stealing from everyone else. Just like you are. Except better." She narrows her gaze at him but made no further comment. With the coin they stole and the coin they earned; they lived a comfortable life with their mother who helped teach the younger kids in the city that couldn't afford school like the noble-born. Violet and Ryder were lucky in the aspect that their mother was educated, but living in the capital of Wolfthorne Kingdom meant for every child that could afford studies, ten of them didn't. Their mother did it for free, before only accepting whatever was brought to her, a scarf, a plant and so-on. With Ryder and her able to bring home coin, their mother refused payment completely now.
"Madam Isla ever going to write you that recommendation?" Ryder asks, leaning against the counter as Violet finished cleaning up the dirt he spilled by the chaise. She eyes him as she cleans, silently willing him to remain still.
"She said she already did." Violet boasts. "She is delivering it at weeks end to Master Horticus." Violet has worked for Madam Isla for two long years with one goal in mind: to receive a recommendation to be a Grand Acolyte. She would work in the royal library. Of course, she would have to start as a junior acolyte, transcribing books and doing grunt work for the higher acolytes until she was accepted but the amount of items she could swipe for her family in the godsdamned castle?
They would never have to steal again.
Violet couldn't lie to herself though. She enjoyed thieving, the thrill of it, the hunt for the mark. She only stole from those who had an abundance of it. They never noticed a few coins missing, anyway. Besides, she loved books. Living her life as a Grand Acolyte was a dream for her. One she could finally see coming true. Especially after the grueling work with Madam Isla, constantly running heavy book orders to lazy nobles who couldn't be bothered to leave their estate and working odd hours because Madam Isla suddenly felt inspiration and was standing outside her house yelling, she deserved a job that had royal perks.
Madam Isla ran the most successful bookstore in the city and Violet was grateful she was hired but she was equally as grateful to be leaving.
"Violet?" Her brother snaps his fingers in front of her face. "I said are you going to be home before dark for dinner?" Violet blinks in confusion; his words slow to process.
"Oh, yes of course." She leans her hip into the counter.
"Excellent. Mother is making her roast, and I was hoping you wouldn't miss it." He smirks as Violet groaned and covered her face with her hands, the broom falling onto the floor.
"I hate that roast."
"The roast hates itself, that's why it's so disgusting."
"On second thought, Madam Isla—"
"Excellent, I'll let mother know you'll be on time!" Ryder winks, striding for the exit before Violet could even open her mouth to argue, the bell chiming its farewell as he slams the door.
Godsdamned that roast.
Grumbling to herself, Violet finishes cleaning up the remainder of Ryder's dirt and continued her closing chores as the sun began to make its descent beneath the sky. She had barely seen Madam Isla this week, as she was tending to personal matters before heading off to the castle at the weeks end as a guest to the banquet the king was throwing for gods knew what reason. She would be Master Horticus' guest and would present the letter that weekend. She had promised Violet she would stop by once a day this week but hadn't at all today, which suited Violet just fine as long as it meant she still received her recommendation.
Violet liked Madam Isla, but she was eccentric and loud. It was nice to have a break from her...personality.
She locks the doors to the shop, checking the handle before turning her back. The city still bustled at this time of the day. She lived in Klyico, the kingdom's capital. She could see the castle from the windows of her shop, imposing in the distance, its obsidian towers rising past the clouds. She walked near the gates of the castle many times, testing the guards to see how far she could slink in the shadows before one of them noticed. So far, it was fifteen feet.
They were good.
She didn't want to anger them though. The Wolf King was a cruel, vicious fae and the men that fought for him were no different. Ryder once told Violet a rumor that the Wolf King ate the flesh of humans. She wasn't sure he was lying. The Wolf King enjoyed public executions and had a hatred for humans across the sea. Though war hasn't been waged between the humans and the Wolf King, any human caught crossing into the Wolf King's land was killed brutally by the King himself. Some were still foolish enough to try.
True to his name, the Wolf King was rumored to be a descendent from the Moon Goddess herself, and as such his line could shift into wolves. While there were packs of werewolves living in the kingdom—most making homes in the woods scattered throughout, Violet only saw them during kingdom celebrations, or on the rare occasion a pack of them came this far from the woods to make trades in the market—the Wolf King and his descendants weren't werewolves, their nature wasn't controlled by the moon. It was empowered by it.
The Wolf King had two male heirs, Sinclair and Caspian. Their mother died years ago, again rumored to be a victim of the Wolf King's rage and Caspian seemed to inherit his father's bloodlust, always appearing to watch the executions and since he turned twenty last winter, he began conducting them himself. It was Sinclair who had interested her though. Of course, every woman in the kingdom was interested in the heirs, even the one who seemed to feed off of fear, but it wasn't his status or his charms that interested her.
It was the dreams she had of him.