EMBRACE || a violet evergarden fanfic #1

VIII

"I can't say that you look rather astonishing this evening," Dietfried told me as he wrapped his arm around the back of my waist and took my hand in the other and started to lead me around the dance floor.

"I hadn't ask for flattery." I replied blandly.

The music playing in the background was soft, and subtle. So I know this would be a slow dance. A classical waltz. Typical for Leiden. I allowed Dietfried to twirl me around the dance floor.

The guests oohed and aahed at the sophisticated dance moves, though I was pretty sure the waltz dances were taught to everyone at a very young age as it was important for girls around their early teenage years.

"Has something been bothering you, Violet?" He asked.

I shook my head mutely. I had not wish to tell Dietfried that his brother Gilbert had been clouding my thoughts lately. But something other than the Major was also bothering me. Why do I feel like something had been in the champagne? I thought.

My balance staggered between the dance moves, "I don't feel so good ...," I held onto his arms for support. "My head ..." I groaned in pain as I accidentally stepped on the hem of my dress and I stumbled backwards.

"バイオレット!" He exclaimed, his arms reaching out to stop my fall.

I fell against his arms, dazed as my vision started to fade away from the beating of my heart.

"Violet!" I heard another voice. This time, it was Gilbert's. "What happened?" It was the first time seeing him during the ball. He was wearing a formal suit, but that was all I saw before my world went black.

§ | |

Dietfried Bougainvillea 's POV

It was a day after Violet had caused a near-death scene during the ball. She was still being treated by Leiden's best doctors, and the trip to the Leidenschaftlich camp will be delayed until her health gets better.

"Have you any word?" I asked when the Head of the Bougainvillean household entered quietly, and bowed in respect. He extended both of his hands, and on his palms rested a thin cylinder carved specifically out of bamboo wood.

I lifted the cylinder out of his hands, and they shrunk backwards behind his back. I slowly opened the lid and lifted the thin paper. My brows furrowed as my eyes scanned the letter, "Send for my brother." I immediately ordered the head, and he bowed.

"Dietfried?" Gilbert was confused when he entered my study. I pounded the table with my fist as I rose from the seat behind the massive wooden desk. "What happened?" He asked.

I shot him a fierce glare, "I just received a letter from the doctor," I threw the bamboo cylinder at his direction, which he caught perfectly. He unrolled the thin paper and scanned the words quickly. "It seems that somebody has spiked her champagne last night during the ball."

"Thankfully he was able to neutralise the poison. If he hadn't, Violet would not have survived miraculously," I drew in a sharp breath, "I want you to lead a few of your men to find out who had done it."

He sighed, "Whoever it is, brother, we will get to the bottom of this."

"See to it that you do," I snorted, and waited until he left the room, before I shrunk back down my seat again. Violet, Violet ... who could have spiked your drink last night? Thoughts clustered around inside my head in a confused daze. I felt my temper boil when someone knocked on the door. "What?" I snapped. The Head of the Household poked his head inside the doorway timidly, "Sir," he whimpered, "Violet she - something happened to her, my Lord." He bowed.

"WHAT!"