Page 89 of The King and Vi

“Age of thirty. The day I met you was your birthday.”

“Exactly. And that was the day my father was found guilty of treason. There’s more to the curse. She said,Pilfer, purloin, and pinch what it is they love best. And then and only then will I find my eternal rest.”

“What does that mean? Pilfer and the other word?”

“They mean steal—steal or take what they love best. Once she’s done that, she will be able to rest in peace.”

“But you said you didn’t love your father.”

“But I did love my title, my name, my place in the world. That’s what I had taken away.”

“But the witch’s sister gave me the counter-spell. There’s still a way to reverse the curse.”

“Maybe. If I believe the witch’s curse was real. If I believe it can be reversed. How can one reverse my father betraying his country? That’s why I have to see him. I have to speak with him and say”—he cleared his throat—“say goodbye.”

“I understand. You should wash in the morning and go.” She rose. “There are still a few hours before sunrise. Sleep, if you can.”

King grabbed her hand. “Lie with me.”

Violet glanced at the door. “I can’t. Joshua—”

“Just lie here, Violet. Beside me. I want to hold you, nothing more.”

She glanced at the door and the flat beyond again and then set the candle down and gestured for King to move over. He did so, and she lay down beside him, her back to his chest. The bed was tiny, and he had no choice but to put his arm about her, resting it on her waist. She blew the candle out and settled in against him.

She fit perfectly, almost as though she’d been carved to fit in the space between his knees and chin. He rested his chin on the top of her head, allowing the light scent of her hair to tease his nose. The smell of smoke was overwhelming, but beneath it lingered the unique scent of Violet.

Chapter Twenty-One

Violet woke alittle while later. Her muscles were stiff and her leg numb. She tried to move and found King had thrown his leg over hers, and her own leg had fallen asleep. Gently, she pushed him onto his back, which only partially worked, as there wasn’t room for him to lie fully like that. But it gave her enough time and room to squeeze out of the bed and move into the flat.

The pale curtains had been torn during the fight with Ferryman, and the window glass that had broken still glittered on the floor. With the broken window, the room was cold, and she pulled her wrapper around her and looked down on the street.

A man and a dog passed by, just visible in the gray light of early morning. The dog kept close to his master’s heels as they set off for work that day.A rat-catcher,Violet thought.He’s headed to the better part of town, where people can afford not to live with rats.

She glanced over her shoulder at the door to her bedchamber. King was from that part of town. The horror he must have felt when he’d been forced to sleep on the floor of the back room… She knew he’d seen a rat or two on those nights. He’d complained about them, complained about everything in that bland, dry way he had that made her laugh.

She’d never felt sorry for him, and she didn’t think he wanted her pity. If he could find a way to avoid doing any labor, hewould take it, of course, but when she needed him, he was always there.

She’d needed his help with Ferryman, and he had done more than she’d ever anticipated. In fact, it was hard to believe that she wouldn’t have to worry about Ferryman knocking on the door of the tavern today, or any day, to demand payment. She wouldn’t have to look over her shoulder out of fear that his thugs were following her. She could breathe for now, knowing Georgie was safe, she was safe, Peggy and Archie were safe. And, of course, thanks to King, Joshua was safe.

King knew it too. He’d felt some responsibility to her. She hadn’t understood that at first, but as she came to know him, she began to understand that was the sort of man he was. He might have been spoiled and privileged, but he had a keen sense of honor and duty. For some reason, Violet and her brothers had become part of his duty—at least for a little while.

Now he spoke of the curse and seeing his father. She was safe, and he was moving on. The Silver Unicorn wasn’t his life. He’d been born for greater things, and even if he’d had his title and wealth taken from him, he could do a lot better than a small tavern in Seven Dials, or Violet Baker and her two brothers.

She didn’t know why the thought of his leaving should cause a pang in her chest. She’d always known he wouldn’t stay for long. He’d stayed longer than she’d ever anticipated. He’d stayedtoolong. She’d become attached, despite telling herself not to.

She shouldn’t have gone to bed with him. She’d never had trouble controlling her feelings before, but King’s touch, his kisses, his whispered urgings, did something to her. And once her feelings had bubbled to the surface, she couldn’t seem to push them down again. And now, not only would she miss having him near to help with whatever she needed and keep an eye on the boys, she’d miss stealing looks at him and the thrill of—what was the word he used?—pilfered kisses.

She’d miss much more than stolen kisses, but there was no point in thinking about that. She couldn’t keep him here, and she was a fool for wishing he would stay. Everyone left her, in one way or another. Even Joshua and Georgie would leave one day. She was helpless to stop it, but she was in control of her feelings. She could decide to be strong. She could decide not to care.

There was enough light now that she washed and dressed then pinned her hair up. Then she gathered her broom and dustpan and began to sweep up the broken glass and set the flat to rights. Joshua tried to sleep longer by putting the blanket over his head, but finally he rose and offered to go fetch hot rolls for breakfast. She gave him a few coins and went downstairs to find a board to secure over the broken window.

When she came back upstairs, King was standing at the window, looking out. Violet entered and, in the moment before he turned to face her, caught her breath at his silhouette. She couldn’t help but admire his long legs, lean hips, trim waist, and broad shoulders. Yes, he could do a lot better than her.

“Good morning,” he said, his voice still raspy from sleep or the smoke.

“I thought you’d sleep another two or three hours,” she teased.

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