Surviving the Death Hunt

At the heart of Barbados, Julien, recently recovered enough to move, had taken what he told himself was a casual stroll to strengthen his bones. He was heading to Scar’s gambling spot. The bastard had left for work first thing in the morning without a word.

On his way, he felt someone watching; not just watching, but following. He shrugged it off at first.

His calm, innocent demeanor had a way of making people underestimate him, and it wasn’t uncommon for someone to peg him as an easy mark for robbery. More often than not, the generous ones followed him instead to protect him.

But the tension grew until he couldn’t ignore it, and when he finally turned to confront whoever was following him, he ended up in a coffee shop, sitting before Purple’s mother, Margaret.

The discomfort set in immediately. Margaret had that presence, the same threatening quality Purple carried, but controlled in a matured manner.

The dark circles under her eyes did nothing to soften it. Her brown eyes moved across her surroundings, as if weighing everything and finding it wanting.

Sitting across from her, Julien felt like he was one careless breath away from death.

If he knew anything at all, Margaret meant no harm. Whatever reason she had for following him, it mostly came down to Purple’s well-being.

She exhaled, fidgeting with her fingers through her nervousness.

"I’m sorry for coming to you this way, Julien. I never intended to make you uncomfortable by following you."

’Dear... that was exactly what you were doing!’

With an uncomfortable smile, Julien scratched the back of his head.

"It’s nothing, ma’am. You shouldn’t worry."

Margaret nodded in understanding. The eye contact was another matter. She managed it in brief intervals.

"I actually wanted to speak to Scar the most, but he’s difficult to approach. He’s kind, truly, but he gives off this unapproachable air... and with his cousin always by his side, it makes things even harder."

Margaret caught the confusion in Julien’s eyes and shook her head quickly in contrast.

"Please don’t misunderstand. It was never my intention to avoid you. I wished to speak with you as well, but I needed to offer Scar my apology. My daughter nearly ruined his life. Should the Rover family stand against us, our modest fame will not save us. If kneeling is required, then I shall kneel."

The look in Margaret’s eyes was unmistakable. It was that of a worried mother, nothing more complicated than that.

Julien had lost his parents a long time ago, and his memory of his mother’s expressions had faded to something he couldn’t fully trust anymore.

But he understood what he was looking at. A mother who genuinely cared that much was not something everyone was lucky enough to have.

Purple, apparently, felt differently about that. Julien had visited the Vey household enough times to have witnessed it... Margaret reached for a conversation, trying to let even a fraction of her worry through, and Purple closed it off every time without explanation.

He didn’t know Margaret’s reasons. But he knew that if he could go back, he’d cherish every moment like this he’d had with his parents.

"Really, you don’t have to worry, ma’am. Scar isn’t angry with Purple at all. Honestly, that whole incident might have been a blessing for him."

Margaret weighed Julien’s words for a second.

"Hm... I do hope that is true. Even so, I must offer my apology once I gather the courage to face him."

A soft smile tugged on Julien’s lips.

Margaret took a deep breath.

"Purple suffered greatly when she was young. The moment she was born, and I saw her purple eyes, I understood she was chosen for the Vey family. Our Inheritance twists the body itself, turning the eyes purple, the color that binds our blood.

"But she was unlike the others. She was born with it, and so I named her Purple. My expectations of her were immense, yet she exceeded them with unsettling ease. Perfect etiquette, sharp intellect, careful composure, confidence beyond her years... she embodied everything a parent could wish for. She is nothing short of a godsend."

Margaret’s expression darkened, eyes darting on the ground.

"But that blessing came with its own challenges. Her hair was like her father’s, long and curled, and paired with her beauty, she appeared almost divine. In the Vey family, however, all possessed deep brown, straight hair. Though she carried our brown color, she also inherited the pale blond shade of her father, marking her as different."

Hmph.

"From childhood, she became the target of criticism. It was not merely her less-pale skin or her brown curls threaded with blond that drew attention, but her intellect as well."

Margaret grew slightly emotional.

"She endured relentless abuse from our own kin as well as outsiders. None wished to accept that a child they deemed illegitimate could surpass them. Or perhaps envy guided their cruelty. More often than not, she returned home with her hair cut and signs of rough handling upon her.

"I did everything I could to make her smile, yet somehow, she never seemed affected — even when I knew she was. It was only when she began wearing her hair in locs that her coldness first appeared."

Julien’s eyes drifted to the locs that ran loose to his shoulders. Genuinely moved by Purple’s past at that moment, his mind decided to go somewhere silly. He’d always assumed Purple kept her hair in locs for the same reason he did.

He’d been broke once; he couldn’t afford hair maintenance. If not for the Rovers taking him in and the maids handling it for him, he’d still be attending to his locs once a month at best. He hadn’t known Purple’s carried any history behind them. Let alone one like that.

Margaret locked eyes with Julien.

"I just want to thank you, Julien. Since she started wearing those locs, she never looked happy, and when her Inheritance awakened, she became even more closed off. But after meeting you and Scar, I can see her letting her guard down a little. She isn’t one to show her emotions, and yet... she agreed to marry you. I never thought that could happen."

Huh?

’Oh, crap. I should have known.’

Julien couldn’t find her eyes anymore. Margaret was happy in the way only a mother could be, certain her child had found love, holding onto that with everything she had.

Telling her the engagement wasn’t born from love but from Purple trying to bury a mistake would take that from her.

From her expression alone, it was clear she still worried sick about her daughter. She was a mother who hadn’t stopped losing sleep over her daughter and probably never would. The least Julien could do was play along and leave Margaret’s feelings where they were.

Margaret’s hand crossed the table and found his before he saw it coming. He hadn’t expected that. He stayed calm regardless, let her hold on, and didn’t pull away.

"I know you have your doubts, and I won’t force you to marry my daughter or do anything that makes you uneasy. All I ask is that you stay by her side. You’ve clearly had an impact on her, and I can see she’s found people she can truly connect with. That’s all I want... for my daughter to be happy."

For a moment, Julien nearly cried. He held it together. He wasn’t sure whether he or Scar was in any position to tell Purple what to do with her life, they were both as obsessed with their own goals as she was with hers.

Julien wanted to avenge his parents by killing Quagmire. Scar wanted something similar but had an entire history working against him. Purple just wanted her family’s name restored. Of the three of them, she was the only one chasing something that made sense on paper.

Despite their differences, they’d been working together long enough that it meant something. Julien had never known anything about Purple’s past, had never thought to ask, and yet he still considered her a friend. If there was one thing their time together had proven, it was that they had each other’s backs.

Julien took a deep breath.

"I cannot guarantee that I can restore your godsend, but I can make this promise: I will always stand in support of Purple. I am confident Scar feels the same, he is not one to jest with friendship, and certainly not with someone of Purple’s caliber."

Julien reached for Margaret’s shoulder and began reassuring her.

"Your daughter is not alone. She will always have our support. It would bring me comfort if you could place a little trust in us and set aside some of your worries."

A long silence fell between them, and after a moment, Margaret smiled.

"Thank you, Julien. I can’t tell you how much your words mean to me."

Julien bowed his head in quiet respect, then excused himself. He made it almost to the edge of leaving before he stopped. There were a few words he wanted to leave with Margaret.

He turned back and gave them to her:

"Would you be able to meet us here tomorrow around this time? I’ll bring Scar so you can apologize, if that’s what you’d like to do."

Margaret was thrilled. Julien was glad he’d said it. But the moment he stepped out of the coffee shop, his demeanor changed.

He hadn’t intended to get any closer to Purple than he already was. She was a dangerous woman. But after what he’d just said to Margaret, he wasn’t so sure about that anymore.

Once he had the artifact, he’d be bound to Purple forever. Thinking about it that way, it wouldn’t hurt to know her a little more intimately before then.