Lord Jasvian’s face went through a remarkable series of transformations—disbelief, horror and outrage cycling in rapid succession before settling into a rigid mask of displeasure. “This is completely unacceptable.”
The hearth sprite—no longer asleep—squeaked in alarm. From the corner of her eye, Iris saw it zip across the room to hide behind the vase on one of the small tables.
Lady Rivenna arched one silver eyebrow. “I seem to recall you lecturing me at great length just days ago about my advanced years and the urgent necessity of finding a suitable successor for the tea house. By all rights, I should be thanking you for your persistent encouragement.”
“I didn’t mean—” His fingers curled into tight fists at his sides. “That is, I never suggested—” He drew a sharp breath.“You cannot possibly believe thatLady Irisis a suitable candidate.”
“I find her eminently suitable,” Lady Rivenna replied, smoothing an imaginary wrinkle from her skirts. “As does the tea house itself.”
“The tea house cannot?—”
“As I’ve explained countless times, Jasvian, the tea house absolutely can and does make its preferences known. You simply choose not to listen.” Lady Rivenna turned to Iris with a slight smile. “You’ll find that’s a recurring theme with my grandson.”
Iris fought to keep her expression neutral, though the corner of her mouth twitched traitorously. Lord Jasvian’s evident distress at finding her in what he clearly considered his territory was, she had to admit, rather satisfying after his dismissive treatment of her at the Opening Ball.
He drew in another steadying breath, eyes still fixed on his grandmother. “But she’s …” He gestured vaguely in Iris’s direction.
“Perfectly capable of speaking for herself,” Iris said. “Though I understand if complex sentences are beyond your comprehension this early in the morning.”
Jasvian finally deigned to meet Iris’s gaze. “I was merely pointing out?—”
“That my magic is unsuitable?” Iris asked. “That my bloodline is impure? That I’m as plain as the paper I fold? Please, do tell me which insult you’d like to lead with today.”
“I wasgoingto say that you’re untrained.”
“As are all apprentices at the beginning,” Lady Rivenna observed.
A tiny glowing shape momentarily caught Iris’s attention, and her gaze darted toward the door where the hearth sprite was busy sneaking out, clearly sensing the rising tension in the room.
“Well then,” Jasvian said stiffly, “now that you have shown Lady Iris the upstairs study, perhaps the two of you would prefer to continue your tour downstairs.”
“Oh no,” Lady Rivenna said, gesturing to the desk by the window. “Lady Iris will be working here, in the study. I’ve always found it the perfect place for contemplation and learning.”
The look of pure horror that crossed Jasvian’s face was so comical that Iris had to bite the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing outright.
“Here?” he echoed, his voice rising slightly. “But this ismystudy!”
“Yourstudy?” Lady Rivenna’s tone remained perfectly pleasant. “How curious. I was under the impression that The Charmed Leaf—including all its rooms, furnishings, and indeed this very study—belonged to me.”
Jasvian’s jaw worked silently for several seconds. “You know perfectly well what I mean,” he finally managed. “I’ve used this study for years. It’s my escape from the chaos of Rowanwood House, the one place where I can properly focus on business without constant interruption.”
“And you may continue to use it,” Lady Rivenna assured him. “You’ll simply be sharing the space with Lady Iris.” She paused, tilting her head slightly. “Ah, I believe I’m needed downstairs.” She moved toward the door. “Lady Iris, please join me when the two of you have finished sorting out your differences.” And before either of them could respond, Lady Rivenna swept from the room, leaving an uncomfortable silence in her wake.
Iris squared her shoulders and lifted her chin. “Lord Jasvian.”
“Lady Iris.” His voice was cold enough to frost glass. “I see you’ve wasted no time insinuating yourself into my grandmother’s good graces.”
“On the contrary, it was Lady Rivenna who approached me with her offer,” Iris replied, her tone matching his. “Though I must confess, had I known it would cause you such evident distress, I might have accepted even more enthusiastically.”
Jasvian’s nostrils flared. “This ismyspace.”
“I don’t see your name etched anywhere,” Iris observed, glancing pointedly around the room. “Nor do I see any of your personal effects. It appears to be quite simply a study that Lady Rivenna has graciously allowed you to use—and now has graciously invited me to share.”
“The desk,” he said tightly, “is enchanted to mirror my workspace at Rowanwood House. The moment I sit down, everything I’ve left at home appears here, arranged precisely as I left it. I’ve been using this arrangement for—” He stopped abruptly, as if annoyed with himself for offering any explanation at all. “Not that it’s any of your business.”
“Ah, how verypracticalof you,” Iris said pointedly.
His jaw tightened. “I see you’re still bristling from our exchange at the Opening Ball.”
