When I'm planning my stories, I often write more than I need (backstories, etc. to help me get to know my characters better). Here's a fun little short about Violet and Henry Hewkin during their college days :)

..........................

"Hey, I think Melodie's into you." 

These words nearly stopped Henry in his tracks. He turned to face his best friend, his brow furrowed in disbelief. Henry wouldn't call himself ugly, but Damian had always been the more attractive one of the two. Even in his baggy red University of Arcana hoodie and jeans, he would stand out in a crowd. He had a certain charm and magnetism to him that had made him close with the most important members of the Order of Chance despite being the son of a relatively low-ranking commander. If the princess was into anyone, it would most certainly be Damian, not Henry. 

"How would you even know that? I've only ever seen one facial expression on the woman." Henry regretted the words almost as soon as they left his mouth. He was being unfair to the princess- he didn't know her well enough to make such judgments. But then again, who did? 

"Trust me, Henry, I know. I have experience with this sort of thing," he said with a corny wink. 

"Dude, stop," Henry groaned as they made their way into their next class. Taking their seats in the back row of the lecture hall, they continued their conversation. 

"Okay, so here's my evidence: Mel hates parties, yet she somehow manages to go to only the ones she knows you'll be at. She lets you in her lab- you know how overprotective she is of that place-" 

"Has it occurred to you that maybe the reason she makes an effort to be social despite her disposition is that she's the heir to the throne? And we were working on a project together," Henry countered, reaching into his backpack to pull out his notebook.

"Why are you so averse to the idea of her liking you? She's the princess for goodness' sake. I just think you should shoot your shot, see what happens. Even if I'm wrong, she's not the kind of person to make a big deal out of it." 

"Being the princess doesn't give her universal romantic appeal, okay? I'm not interested," Henry affirmed, now looking a little cross. 

Before Damian could say anything more, their Arcanese history professor, a short woman who walked remarkably fast for her size, entered the room. She approached the podium, setting down a stack of lecture notes with a thud, and began to speak. 

"Last week, as I'm sure you all remember, we began discussing the Wars of Unification. Who remembers which important local nobleman first contested Arcan VanderSchee's right to rule the land that would become Arcana? Considering that our Defense Minister's son is in this class, I'm sure at least one person knows the answer," she concluded, looking straight at Henry. Before Henry could covertly Google the answer to her question, the doors to the lecture burst open, revealing a distraught-looking girl who rushed in hugging a stack of books to her chest. 

"Sorry, early morning shift," she muttered to the professor before putting her books down and taking her seat in the front row. "And it was Farrier Evarbor who didn't like Arcan's plan. But when faced with the threat of the Italians, they joined forces, allowing Evarbor to eventually become one of King Arcan's most trusted advisors." 

"...thank you, Violet," the professor said after a long pause, clearly unsure of whether to praise the girl for her detailed answer or chastise her for her lateness. 

"I know that girl," Henry smiled, looking over at Damian. "She lives in Hewkin Heights."

"Everyone knows that girl," Damian sneered. "She's late to class every day and makes a huge show of it. Definitely out for pity points from Professor Adams." 

"She works really weird hours, okay? I've seen her in the elevator past midnight." 

"And what were you doing in the elevator past midnight?" 

"Well, coming back from... not working," Henry shrugged sheepishly. 

"Exactly my point," Damian smirked. 

"I know she's trying her best, okay?" 

"How?" 

"I just know," Henry replied, imitating Damian's earlier comment about Princess Melodie's supposed crush on him. Even though he'd never had a sustained conversation with Violet other than a routine casual elevator greeting, he'd seen how red and chapped her hands were from running hundreds of dishes under hot water, the dark bags under her eyes that she tried to hide with cheap makeup, the notoriety she had at the university for always being late or absent to class yet maintaining a stellar academic record. And of course, as her landlord, he knew she was staying at Hewkin Heights under King Bradford's subsidized housing program. Violet was not the slob people thought she was. No, she was a veritable hero who was building a better life for herself, piece by piece. 

And it wasn't just for herself. Young Order members tended to stay out of political activism to avoid rankling their parents, but every time he saw her in front of the administration building with a megaphone and a sign, it was all Henry could do not to join her. Just a few weeks ago, he'd seen her protesting the King's new tax reforms, and after her explanation of their disproportionate effect on working students', he'd felt obligated to mention her concerns to the Finance Minister at a recent Order gala. Horace Evarbor had laughed, called him a "dear boy," and proceeded to ask him about his studies, but he felt oddly satisfied to have at least honored Violet's voice. 

Henry often wondered what would happen if she woke up to find her tuition paid, but this scenario would inevitably lead to his father asking where the money went. He could lie about a new car, but his father would ask to see it. Eventually, the truth would come out, and it would not end well for him. The Order of Chance did not believe in charity. 

Even if he could feasibly produce the money, he found the idea of buying Violet's attention unspeakably vile. Like he'd be polluting with his Order glibness a life that was so fundamentally pure and real. No, next time I see her, I'm going to talk to her. I'm going to talk to her like a human being, he promised himself. 

Unfortunately for Henry, the next time he saw Violet was rather soon, not giving him much time to prepare for the fateful conversation. At the end of class, Damian and Henry said their goodbyes for the day before Damian headed out the back door toward the engineering building and Henry made his way down the rows to the front of the lecture hall. He was about to leave the room when he heard a huge thwap. He looked down to see Violet's books spread out in the doorway, Violet herself crouched on her heels and desperately trying to gather them back up in her arms. It was only then that Henry noticed she didn't have a backpack, or anything else to put them in. She had said she was coming straight from work... she must not have had the time to grab one. 

Henry took his own backpack off his shoulders and bent over to help her. Before he could pick up her history textbook, it was kicked out of his reach by an indignant George Harrow, who then squirmed his way through the small opening in the doorway he had created. "What a nuisance. Won't even let us leave class," he muttered under his breath as he stormed away. Stepping forward to retrieve the book, Henry felt a rush of heat rise to his face. He couldn't justify the extent of his anger toward George, but something made him want to slam the self-righteous idiot into a wall. The Harrows are family friends. They are important to the Order, he reminded himself as he handed Violet her textbook. 

"Thanks, Henry," Violet smiled with genuine gratitude as she stood up, once again holding her books in her arms. 

"You... you remember my name!" Henry beamed with the excitement of a child. There goes my great conversation. 

"Well, of course I do," Violet laughed. "You live in Hewkin Heights too, don't you? I remember talking to you in the lobby." 

"Yeah, I do," Henry nodded, remembering that he had never told Violet his last name. "Where are you headed next?" 

"English. You?" 

"Public policy. Since we're headed the same way, I can get some of those for you if you'd like," Henry gestured to Violet's books. Violet looked fairly surprised at this offer, but she handed him a couple of the books anyway. Henry looked down at her notebook as they began walking, admiring the meticulousness of her handwriting on the cover. 

"So, we go to the same small school and live in the same building, but I rarely see you around. What are you up to all day?" Violet asked playfully as they made their way through the hallway. 

Well, I'm a secret agent who fights probability terrorists. Henry wasn't sure whether the truth would impress or disgust her, given her distaste for violence. Of course, he would never find out. 

"I dunno, I mostly study and eat and play video games. I'm not the most interesting person in the world." 

"Wow," Violet turned her gaze toward him as if he was the most interesting person in the world. "You know- you're the first person at this sad little school that I've asked that question to and actually gotten a normal answer from." 

A sad little school was not how most people would refer to Arcana's most selective private university, Henry thought, but then again, Violet was not "most people." 

"Everyone's always like 'oh, I'm interning in Minister X's office' or 'I particularly enjoy having tea with the princess'," Violet elaborated, sticking her chin up and imitating a sophisticated Arcana City accent. "This place is full of posers." 

"Anyone who says the second one's a liar. Melodie hates small talk- she always takes her tea alone," Henry replied. Violet was right, unfortunately. According to the probs, UA's student body consisted of 5% actual noblemen and 95% obnoxious snobs who thought they were noblemen. Not to say that those whose parents held titles were any less obnoxious. 

"Wait... you know her?" Violet's eyes widened. For a moment, Henry was afraid he'd given away his real identity before she continued. "Well, I wouldn't be surprised. You are friends with the Defense Minister's son- the Hewkin boy, whatever his name is. I see you guys sitting together in class." 

For a moment, Henry was very confused, before he realized she was referring to Damian. She thought he was the Hewkin heir. Of course. Of the two of them, Damian was certainly the one who looked more like a nobleman. 

"I've saved that man's dignity so many times. I always answer the questions Adams asks him while he's fumbling around," Violet giggled. 

"You certainly have... and he's grateful," Henry smiled. 

........................

In case you don't remember, Damian is actually Juliana's dad! (So he's ironically the one who ends up marrying Princess Melodie).