Violet Amethyst's Arc

Chapter 7 of 9

The next morning, April came running to the cottage. Her book was gone from her arms. She never went anywhere without it. Violet knew right away something was wrong. "Slow down," she said, catching April's shoulders. April gulped air. "The bartender. The one who took our note. He's talking." Violet's stomach twisted. "Talking how?" "At the inn. I went for breakfast." April's hands shook. "He told a table about the fairy meeting the cursed man. He didn't say your name. But he said a fairy in purple. Violet, everyone knows that's you." She swallowed. "People started asking where. If they follow him, they'll find this place." Violet grabbed her purple lantern from the hook and lit it. The tiny lights inside flickered awake. She would not lose the cottage now. "We fix this today. Before tonight." She pulled April out the crystal door. The inn was quiet at midday. The bartender stood behind the bar, wiping a glass with slow hands. He looked up when Violet walked straight to him. His easy smile faded. "You," he said. "The purple one." "You've been telling people about me," Violet said. "About the man in the corner." He set the glass down. He didn't deny it. "A story like that, folks want to hear it. And a cursed man near town? People deserve a warning." But his eyes moved to April, who stood frozen by the door, and something in him softened. "I didn't think it would spread this fast." "It's not a story," Violet said. She stepped closer. "He's not bad luck. He's lonely. The last fairy didn't vanish because he's poison. She vanished because she gave away everything she had. I know how not to." She held up her lantern. The little lights danced across his glasses. "I carry my own light. That's what keeps me safe with him." The bartender studied her a long moment. He glanced again at April, still trembling but standing her ground. "You two really believe this." "With everything," Violet said. "But your talk could bring people out there. It could ruin the only chance he has to be seen as a man." He rubbed the back of his neck. Then he leaned on the bar. "Alright. I'll fix it. I'll tell that table I made it up. Slow night, too much wine. Folks forget a lie faster than a secret." He looked at her hard. "But you didn't hear this place's name from me again. We clear?" "Clear," Violet said. Relief loosened her chest. He kept his word. By afternoon the rumor died at the bar where it started. But as Violet walked home, a new worry pressed in. The bartender knew where the cottage was now. He'd promised silence today. One more slip, one more careless night, and the secret would break for good. She needed the prince to come tonight, before her luck ran out.