By the time a few weeks had passed, Isabella’s stamina and dance ability had increased to the point that Violet felt they could practice longer and with more complicated steps. This was why the two women found themselves up in the large multipurpose room after dinner, dancing even as the sun began to dip below the windows that lined the far wall. 

Violet held Isabella tight and moved them both through a series of new steps. A dance that they had just started learning yesterday and one that required a higher level of concentration. At first, Isabella kept up with her without issue. However, after completing two full patterns, Violet could tell by the look on her partner’s face that she was having trouble going on. Barely a minute into the routine Violet felt the familiar sting of a boot stepping on a few of her toes.

“Damn it!” Isabella exclaimed before the pair came to a stop. 

Once they did, Violet allowed their arms to drop so they could separate slightly. “You’re doing well, Miss York. This is an advanced step and it requires practice.” Of course, the mistake didn’t bother Violet as much but Isabella seemed to take it really hard. The only reason they were even attempting something more complicated was her proficiency with the basic patterns. However, that fact was apparently not enough to tamp down her frustrations. 

“What’s the point? I can’t do this! I’m never going to be the lady my father wants me to be. That these other girls expect me to be.”

Violet stood by patiently, allowing her the space to vent. After watching her these last few weeks, it was clear that under that air of aloofness was a woman who held high expectations of herself. Even if she didn’t believe she could reach them. 

“Miss York, I do not believe that to be true. You’ve come a long way in these past–”

“I don’t need your flattery, Violet!” Isabella cut her off with a raised voice and a shake of her head. “I’m not like you, I can’t just do everything well. At this point, you’d make a better lady than I would.” After the outburst, her eyes dropped to observe the floor beneath them. Causing some hair to fall over her shoulders to hang along with her head.

This conversation was beginning to sound a lot like the one they’d had on the stairs a few weeks ago and Violet could feel her chest tighten at the memory. I feel even more alone now that you’re here. The statement echoed through her mind but she pushed the budding worry aside and stepped forward towards where Isabella stood. A gloved hand came up then, to gently cup the student’s cheek and lift it so Violet could look into her eyes. Once their gazes were locked, she offered a gentle smile of understanding before brushing some errant hair back behind Isabella’s ear. “I think that’s enough for today, I’m sure you’re tired. I’ve been pushing you a lot recently.” 

In response, all Isabella did was nod her head in agreement and then take another step forward to rest her head on Violet’s shoulder. Once there, she let out a long sigh before Violet shifted her arms to wrap Isabella in a loose embrace. The pair stayed like that for a few moments, wordlessly locked together. Alone in the fading light. Eventually, Isabella took an exaggerated breath in and stood up straight before turning and looking towards the stairwell. “Yeah, let’s go back. It’s getting late.” 

Once she stepped off to do that, Violet quickly fell in behind her. The walk back was…quiet. The only sounds that filled her ears were those of their boots on the stones and distant conversations from other stragglers sharing the road. Which was a little unusual by this point in the assignment. It wasn’t as though Violet did a lot of talking on their walks, but there was normally a steady stream of observations or questions coming from Isabella.

In this silence, Violet’s concern continued to fester. While having friends wasn’t exactly new to her, worrying about losing one was a novel experience. She may not have cared normally but, for some reason, the thought of this relationship souring was difficult to bear. More puzzling was the fact that it wasn’t even necessary to do her job here. They didn’t have to be close. Thankfully, none of these emotions played across her face as she walked. Only the placid look of indifference and observation remained. The one Isabella always saw. There was only one time so far that Violet had lost her composure during her assignment. It happened the night of the incident on the stairs and, as far as she knew, Isabella was completely unaware.

What she failed to see that night when she turned to observe Violet in bed was that the doll’s eyes were open and staring blankly at the wall. Tears had gathered up in the corners and a few even traveled down her cheeks to fall to the pillow below. Different from Isabella’s earlier torrent, though they spoke to a mirrored sadness with what had transpired. Those harsh words had played over and over in Violet’s mind while she lay there, filling her with regret. She knew all too well how powerful loneliness could be. How it choked you. Permeated through every facet of your life, even when surrounded by others. It was a cruel thing that took considerable effort, and the warmth and compassion of others, to overcome. To know that she was adding to, and not lessening, Isabella’s feelings of isolation was painful.

For now, Violet managed to keep calm all the way back to their room. Once inside, Isabella continued into the bathroom without so much as a word, leaving Violet to take a few more steps before coming to a stop near the door. Her hands balled where they hung at her side and a single tear gathered and then fell down her cheek. Followed by another from the other eye. A moment later, Isabella rounded the corner and found her still standing by the door, a silent stream now flowing down her cheeks.

“Violet!?” Isabella’s eyes went wide and she dropped the buckets in her hand before approaching her friend. Once she got up close, her eyes began searching over Violet’s person, as if looking for an injury. “What’s wrong? Are you hurt?”

Violet must’ve been quite the sight. This was the first time she’d shown any kind of heightened emotion and it just so happened to be sadness that came out. In response to the question Violet, shook her head but didn’t offer any further explanation. 

“Then what is it? Come on, you can tell me.” Isabella brought both hands up and placed them on Violet’s shoulders, squeezing gently to encourage her to share whatever was the matter. 

Finally, the feelings that welled up inside became too much and Violet couldn’t hold back. No matter how unprofessional this might be. “I’m not hurt but…have I hurt you, Miss York?” 

Isabella’s features immediately shifted from concern to confusion, and her eyes dropped to examine her own body. “What?” Seeing nothing obvious, she returned her eyes to Violet before shaking her head. “Of course not. What do you mean?” 

Violet watched as her words were misinterpreted, waiting until their gazes locked once more before explaining what she meant. “No, not that. Do I…still make you feel alone?” Violet held the other woman’s gaze as the question lingered, searching her features for any clue to the answer. 

It took a moment but Isabella’s expression changed again, this time from confusion to realization before she sighed and dropped her hands. “Is that what this is about? What I said to you on the stairs?”

Once Violet silently confirmed that to be the case with a nod, Isabella moved to scoop up a gloved hand where it hung the doll’s side. “Violet, come with me.”

She did as she was told, letting Isabella lead her to the large bed before turning so they could sit on the edge together. Still holding her hand, Isabella took a deep breath and turned her head away slightly. Focusing on something distant. “You’re right, I was upset back when I ran away and yelled at you. Upset with how amazing you are, and how I am nothing like that. I felt like I’d never be able to meet everyone’s expectations even before you came. Then you did and it was like a constant reminder.” She paused and snorted derisively before shrugging. “I guess I still feel that way sometimes. That I’m no good.”

In that space, Violet almost interjected to disagree; however, she chose to remain silent instead. 

“But that’s not how I feel now…” Isabella turned back towards her; eyes alight with something that hadn’t been there before. “Now I want to do better! Or at least try!”

With a smile, Isabella finally released Violet’s hand so that she could reach into her dress and retrieve her handkerchief. She held the white cloth up for a moment for the handmaiden to see, then leaned over to wipe away the remnants of tears on Violet’s face. The cloth was soft, and the motions were gentle. Besides cleaning her face, they also calmed the worry in her chest and helped her relax somewhat. 

“I was wrong when I said those things. I didn’t have to feel lonely; I just didn’t know it yet.” Once only a faint trace of streaks remained on Violet’s cheeks, Isabella dropped her hand and fiddled with the soft piece of fabric. “These past few weeks have been the most enjoyable time I can remember since losing Taylor. I…I want us to keep getting closer in the time we have. Is that alright, Violet?” 

Hearing these things filled Violet with profound relief, not to mention a warmth knowing Isabella’s desire matched her own. She hadn’t spent this much time with someone since her loss either. Day in and day out, always together, even at night. But even after all that time she only found herself wanting more. “I would like that as well, Miss York.” Violet’s assertion caused Isabella to smile and nod her head as if that settled it then.

After Isabella put her handkerchief away, she took up Violet’s hand once more, this time with both of her own, before raising it. “Alright then, I have a request. I want you to call me Isabella.”

A first-name basis? Friends or not, Violet was here to do a job. One that required her to play the part of dutiful handmaiden. Being on a first-name basis with your help didn’t exactly fit that mold. At least from servant to Lady. “Miss York, I don’t believe that’s a good idea. We have roles to perform, after all.”

Isabella scrunched her face then, but it didn’t appear as though she had completely given up on the idea. Only wrestled with it in her mind until finally, she brought up a hand, a single finger pointed skyward. “Ah. Then how about this? Call me by my first name when we’re here. Alone. No one has to know.” 

Even after the suggestion, Violet remained unmoved. Her face reformed to the blank look she normally wore as she thought. Seeing this, Isabella began to wear a sour expression, almost as if she were mock pouting. “Come on, Violet. I already call you by your first name and it will help motivate me.”

Motivate her? How exactly would it do that? Was it something akin to a reward then? Violet couldn’t see how such a thing made sense, but she supposed it didn’t have to if it achieved the desired result. Besides, she called her all friends back home by their first names. Well, except for the President, but he was the boss and felt more like a guardian at times anyway. Finally, after a minute or two of internal debate, Violet nodded her agreement. “Very well, but only when we’re in this room.”

A wide smile immediately burst forth on Isabella’s face and she stood as soon as Violet made her conditions known. “Really? Okay! Now, let’s get that bath filled. I’d like to wash your hair tonight too.” 

That was something that hadn’t happened since the first time they shared the bath and Violet suspected it was an attempt to further cheer her up. She was about to object since Isabella didn’t have to do that for her. Violet was the handmaiden, after all. However, she had a feeling she would simply end up agreeing to it in the end anyway. Instead, she stood and followed her friend back to where the two buckets lay toppled on the floor. “Very well, Isabella.”