Lavinia, efficient as she was, had staff pack up Violet’s furniture from the Residence and move it in here last night. Her familiar green couch sat against a wall, facing one of the large windows.
I remembered the California king used to be in the centre of the room, with only the headboard touching a wall. She’d had it moved so it hid in a corner, out of direct sunlight, with two sideshugged by walls. Her bedding and the couch pillows were mostly unpacked.
A small end table, taken from our living room, sat beside her couch, and upon it was a steaming cup of coffee and a plate of scones.
I snagged one from the plate on my way past, sitting on the other end of the couch.
“I hope our parents didn’t give you too much trouble yesterday,” I said.
Violet shook her head. “Absolutely not. They’re wonderful. I can’t believe they’re just letting me stay here without paying rent or helping out at all.”
Mercer’s comment about her mother being a bitch made more and more sense. Violet seemed to struggle with accepting kindness. Had she not gotten any from the family she grew up with?
“It’s not like we need the money.” I gestured out the window at the field her bedroom faced, currently foggy in the gloomy grey morning. “No mortgage to pay off or anything.”
“Still…”
“If you’d stayed at the Residence, Mom would have sent a security detail to watch over you until everything got sorted. Really, by moving in you’ve saved her the hassle.”
Violet took a big bite of her scone, washing it down with a hefty sip of black coffee. “They wouldn’t even let me help in the kitchen,” she mumbled. “Said Mrs. Alfieri ordered them to send me away if I tried.”
I’d expected that. She sounded really let down by being unable to pay back my parents, though.
Maybe there was a way she could show her appreciation without making herself our unpaid maid.
“Can you bake?” I asked.
“Yes. I’m really good, actually. They taught classes at the Residence.”
“Mom loves strawberry shortcake. She’d love it if you made her one as a thank you. I can convince the chef to make a one-time exception to Mom’s ‘no helping in the kitchen’ rule.”
Violet lit up. “Really? That’s something, at least. I just feel so strange staying here when they barely know me. I have to admit the timing was perfect, though.”
“Were you planning on moving out of the Residence?”
The pack hadn’t mentioned anything about her leaving, but they probably wouldn’t have known.
West hadn’t visited her in months until I ended up there. He wouldn’t have reacted positively to the idea of her leaving, either.
She nodded. “In a few months. It’s funny, because West would have been extra upset when he found out, but you fixed that problem.”
“Extra upset? How?” I asked. “And why have I fixed it?”
Violet took another massive sip of her coffee, leaving the mug empty on the side table. Only crumbs remained of her scones.
“I’m moving in with a friend,” she said. “She was living at Omega Haven when I moved in, but she left six months ago. Her parents are wealthy and set her up with a massive apartment.”
“Why would West be extra upset about that?”
“Her apartment is in Seamouth.”
“Ah, not his territory.”
It wouldn’t matter for Violet, but he would have had trouble going to visit her often. He probably would have panicked about keeping her safe, too.
“His territory now,” she joked. “By virtue of it being controlled by your family. Plus, he gets to see that I can survive outside of the routine of the Residence. Ease him into the idea of me being independent.”
West did need easing. He was getting better at letting go, slowly, but Violet moving alone into the world might have caused him to panic.
