Chapter 43
Violet
Shit, shit, shit…
I took August's hand, forcing my grip to stay steady despite my racing pulse. His handshake was firm, professional, and somehow threatening all at once.
“It’s nice to properly meet you, sir,” I said, managing a weak smile and doing my best not to stumble over my words. “I recognize you from the Eleusinian ritual. You’re the head Councilman, aren’t you?”
“I certainly am.” He returned my smile, but it looked more predatory than friendly.
His gaze shifted to Julian. “I wanted to speak with you about something tonight, but you weren’t answering your phone.
I assumed you were probably spending time with your Selection, so I came here.
” He paused, letting the silence stretch.
“Imagine my surprise when I found the room empty.”
Julian held his father’s cold stare. “Violet and I were—”
August lifted a palm, cutting him off. “Before you attempt some sort of brazen lie about enjoying a midnight snack in the kitchen or canoodling down in the library, you should know I’ve already spoken to the guards.
” His tone remained pleasant, which somehow made it worse.
“One of them spotted you smuggling Violet outside earlier. He assumed you’d received the requisite permissions, given your status, so he didn’t intervene. Of course, he didn’t know any better.”
“I wasn’t going to lie,” Julian said, voice carefully controlled. “We were dealing with an emergency situation at BHU that required Violet’s presence. There was no time to obtain official permission.”
August's brow arched slightly. “Did this so-called ‘emergency situation’ have anything to do with the arrest of Cherry Beaumont?”
“Yes.”
“I thought as much. I received a phone call from our liaison at the Blackthorne police department a few minutes ago,” August said. He moved a little closer, hands clasped behind his back again. “He told me all about the situation.”
“Then you understand it was necessary to—”
August cut Julian off again. “Not another word.”
The command cracked through the room like a whip, and I flinched despite myself.
“I know something is amiss here. Something between the two of you,” August went on, eyes narrowing.
“I’ve suspected it for some time, and I intend to get to the bottom of it.
So I’m convening an emergency Council session.
Now.” He briefly paused, looking between us.
“You'll both be questioned. Separately. And from this moment on, you will not see or speak to each other until I say otherwise.
I won't have you concocting some convenient cover story together.”
My stomach dropped. I shot Julian a panicked glance, but his expression remained carefully neutral.
“That’s completely understandable, given the circumstances,” he said to his father. Then he looked at me, and I saw something flicker in his eyes. “It’ll be fine, Violet. Tell them the whole truth. Just like you told Cherry the whole truth tonight.”
I blinked, mind whirling. Then I nodded slowly, holding his gaze. Message received.
August's cold smile returned. “We'll speak with you first, Violet.” He gestured toward the door with unsettling courtesy. “I do hope your story matches whatever my son has to say afterward, for both your sakes.”
Fifteen minutes later, I was escorted into the Dionysus Council chamber. It felt like walking into a cathedral built for judgment rather than worship.
The room was cavernous, with vaulted ceilings that disappeared into shadow and stone walls that absorbed most of the candlelight flickering from mounted sconces. Eight senior Councilmen sat in high-backed leather chairs arranged in a semicircle, their faces grave and unreadable in the dim light.
I was introduced to each of them in turn.
August and Damien Valcourt sat at the center; two sides of the same coin.
August with his predatory sharpness, Damien with silver hair and hawkish features that somehow looked even more severe.
Flanking them were the others: Rockwell, whose cold gray eyes tracked my every movement like a scientist observing a specimen; Prentice, distinguished with a neatly trimmed white beard; Pontellier, lean and sharp-featured; Marsden, who looked vaguely annoyed to be awake at this hour; Wellington, carefully neutral; and Bellamy, the youngest of them, though still decades older than me.
Once the introductions were over, silence fell. All eight of the men watched me like judges presiding over a trial where the verdict had already been decided.
I forced myself to stand straighter, even though I felt like a rabbit surrounded by wolves.
“Miss Calloway,” August finally said, his tone deceptively pleasant. “Thank you for coming at such a late hour.”
As if I had any choice in the matter, I thought, suppressing the urge to roll my eyes.
“Do you mind if we address you as Violet?”
“Not at all,” I said evenly.
“Good.” He leaned forward slightly. “Your Selection and subsequent presence on this estate have been a contentious matter for some time. Are you aware of that?”
My throat suddenly felt tight. “Julian has told me a little about it, but only very recently.”
“You’re also aware of the reason we’ve brought you in here, I presume.”
I nodded. “Yes, sir. I broke the rule about leaving the estate during training,” I said. “I’m very sorry for that, but if you’ll let me explain—”
“We'll get to that,” Rockwell cut in, his gray eyes boring into me. “Right now, we'd like you to tell us about your relationship with Julian Valcourt. From the moment you met him to the events that transpired tonight. Leave nothing out.”
I took a slow breath, organizing my thoughts. This was like the Eleusinian ritual all over again. Every word mattered, every detail would be scrutinized.
“I first met Julian near the beginning of the semester at BHU,” I began.
“Though ‘met’ is probably not the right word, because we didn’t really speak or get to know each other.
We just happened to be in a couple of the same classes, so we’d occasionally say hi or wave if we saw each other.
Our relationship at that point could only be described as acquaintances. ”
Pontellier dipped his chin in a nod. “Go on.”
“When the Selection hunt happened, I was terrified, because I had no idea what it was all about. I’d only heard the rumors.
” I let some genuine emotion seep into my voice.
“But after Julian captured me and brought me here, and everything was explained to me during the first few days of training, I understood. That's when we started getting to know each other.” I paused. “After a while, he introduced me to his brother Roman. They’re very close, so it was important to him that we met.”
“And what did Roman tell you when you met him?” Prentice asked.
“Roman informed me that he’d been in a relationship with my sister, and that she was actually his Selection choice last year.”
“Your sister being…?”
“Calista Hoffmann.” My voice wavered slightly. “She was a student at BHU, but… she died last year.”
August leaned forward, gaze sharpening. “Is that why you transferred from Ravenswood University? Because of your sister’s death?”
“Yes. Her death hit me very hard, and it put me in a really dark place,” I said, voice hitching slightly.
“I thought… I thought being here in Blackthorne Harbor might help me feel closer to her.” I swallowed.
“And it worked. I met her friends, went to places she loved, met her old professors. It’s really helped me with the grieving process. ”
“But you were completely unaware of her relationship with Roman until he told you about it?” August asked. His tone had shifted, becoming more probing.
“Yes. Calista was very private when it came to romantic matters. We shared everything else, but not that,” I said. “Her friends didn’t know about Roman, either. I don’t think anyone did.”
“I see.” Damien Valcourt tilted his head, studying me. “What else did Roman tell you?”
I swallowed hard. “He told me that he and Julian never believed Calista’s death was accidental,” I said in a low voice. “They thought someone pushed her off the clock tower.”
The temperature in the room seemed to drop.
“Before you arrived at this estate,” August said slowly, “had you ever suspected it might be murder?”
“No. Never.” I shook my head emphatically. “The police told my family it was an accident, and we had no reason to doubt them. As far as I knew, everyone loved my sister. The thought that someone would want to hurt her...” I let my voice crack slightly. “It never crossed my mind. Not once.”
“I see.” August's expression remained unreadable. “Continue.”
“Once I got past the initial shock of discovering that Calista may have been murdered, I agreed to discuss the case with Roman and Julian.”
“Why, exactly?” Marsden asked, brows rising.
“Because Roman wasn’t close with any of Calista’s friends, and neither was Julian.
But I was.” I cleared my throat. “I am, I mean. I met them all at the beginning of the semester, and we bonded over Calista. Because of that, Roman and Julian thought I might know something important that I’d discovered during my time with those friends.
Something I didn't even realize was significant. So they thought we might be able to figure out the truth if we shared all the information we knew.”
“And how did that go?”
“It worked. We eventually realized—just tonight, actually—that Calista’s best friend Cherry had told me a version of events that didn’t align with what Roman knew to have occurred on the night of the incident.
From there, we realized that Cherry had probably killed her.
But we needed a confession to prove it, and we were certain the only person who could get it was me. ”
“So you left the estate.”