The notebook’s reply came after a thoughtful pause:A question better answered by your own unique gifts, I should think. Have you tried to see the possibilities?
I have,Iris wrote, remembering her earlier attempts.But there are so many. Too many. They overwhelm me.
Perhaps if you wrote them down? Organizing thoughts often leads to clarity.
Iris considered this suggestion. Controlling her visions was still something of a challenge. She had been practicing, as Lady Rivenna suggested, focusing on specific questions to narrow the field of possibilities. Perhaps if she concentrated on this particular question—and accompanied it with a few sips of ‘Autumn & Pine.’
She rose from the window seat and returned to her writing desk where her evening teacup still sat, a small amount of liquid remaining at the bottom. The tea was cold now, and she grimaced as she drank the last few sips, but the familiar sensation of steadiness washed through her almost immediately. The world seemed to settle around her as she walked back to the window, her mind already feeling more centered and focused.
She closed her eyes, relaxing the careful control she usually maintained and allowing her magic to flow while focusing her thoughts on a single question:What might happen if I break my engagement to Lord Hadrian?
The now-familiar sensation washed over her—images unfolding themselves before her eyes, glimpses of potential futures, each one overlapping the next:
Hadrian’s face, stricken with hurt but quickly gathering his composure as he assured her he understood, that he wanted her happiness above all else, his voice hardly breaking?—
Whispers of ‘the half-blood who thought herself too good for Lord Blackbriar,’ society turning its collective back on the Starspun family?—
Her grandfather’s face, gray with disappointment as he informed her they would lose the Bloomhaven house, unable to maintain even the pretense of their former?—
Herself, decades older, alone in a small cottage, neither married nor Lady Rivenna’s successor, seemingly having lost both chances at security when?—
A furious Lord Hadrian, his usual gentle demeanor shattered by betrayal, publicly denouncing her, severing all ties with the Rowanwoods by extension, putting Jasvian’s friendship and business partnership at risk?—
Her family relocated to a modest home in an unfashionable district, her father forced to accept employment beneath his station while her mother?—
Herself at The Charmed Leaf, older and confident, directing the tea house’s operations with Lady Rivenna’s approval, financially independent despite the lingering whispers about her scandalous past?—
Hadrian smiling sadly as he wished her well, confessing he had suspected?—
Iris blinked, trying to call the vision back as she wondered what Hadrian might confess he suspected, but the image was gone. Breathless and a little disoriented, she picked up her quill once more.
So many paths,she wrote, hand trembling slightly.Some hopeful, others devastating. How am I to know which would come to pass?
You cannot,came the notebook’s immediate reply.That is the nature of possibility.
The outcome will also depend on precisely what I choose to share with Lord Hadrian, she wrote after a moment’s reflection.The true reason for wishing to end our engagement …
You are considering withholding certain truths?the notebook inquired.
I am considering focusing the conversation solely on Lord Hadrian and myself, she replied carefully.Explaining that my feelings are not what they should be for a future husband,rather than mentioning my … complicated sentiments regarding his closest friend.
A wise approach, if somewhat incomplete. I certainly wouldn’t recommend declaring your undying passion for Lord Brooding regardless.
A small sound from the hallway—the creak of a floorboard or the settling of the house—momentarily distracted Iris. When she looked back at the notebook, another line of text had appeared:
Do any of these hopeful potential futures you’ve just witnessed feature the aforementioned Lord Brooding?
Iris bit her lip. She had very firmly pushed Jasvian from her mind whenever attempting to see the possibilities in her future, fearing both disappointment and hope in equal measure.
I dare not look,she admitted finally.
Fear rarely leads to wise decisions.
It isn’t merely fear,Iris wrote defensively.It’s practicality. Even if Lord Jasvian truly cares for me, his duties will always come first. He’s made that abundantly clear.
Has he? As I recall, his most recent words on the subject suggested quite the opposite.
Words spoken in a moment of weakness, in the intimacy of a dark garden. He then left without saying goodbye the very next day. Actions speak louder than?—
