“Exchange?” Iris gave a short laugh. “Is that what we’re calling it? I would have described it as you making disparaging remarks about my heritage and magical abilities, followed by my pointing out your insufferable arrogance.”
“You caused a scene,” he said through gritted teeth.
“Did I? How mortifying.” Iris pressed a hand to her chest in mock distress. “Though not nearly as mortifying as having one’s magic dismissed as ‘nonsense’ by someone who’s probably never had to question his place in society for a single moment of his privileged life.”
“You know nothing about me,” Jasvian said, his voice low and tight.
“And you know nothing about me,” Iris countered. “Yet that didn’t stop you from passing judgment, did it?”
“I spoke only truth. Your specific magic has no practical application.”
Iris stepped closer, heat surging in her veins. This close, she saw that his eyes weren’t merely dark, but a deep storm gray, circled by rims of a darker shade that gave way to startling flashes of silver closer to the pupil. “I do not have to prove myself to anyone,” she said, her voice low and measured, “least of all to you.”
“On the contrary,” Jasvian replied, not backing away from her advance, “if you’re hoping to find yourself a suitable match in Bloomhaven, then you have a great deal to prove. To everyone.”
Iris felt her retort die on her lips, hating that he was right. Her family’s financial situation meant she couldn’t afford the luxury of righteous indignation, no matter how satisfying it might be. “Are we done here?” she asked finally. “Or would you prefer to spend another few minutes glowering at me?”
“I do notglower.”
“My mistake. That must be your natural expression.” And with that, she tucked her new notebook more securely under her arm and swept past him with as much dignity as she could muster. “If you’ll excuse me,” she said without looking back, “I believe I’m needed downstairs. Unlike some, I don’t have the luxury of idle conversation when there’s work to be done.”
Then she pulled the door firmly shut behind her, taking perhaps a bit too much satisfaction in the solid thud it made as it closed.
Chapter Ten
Iris reachedthe bottom of the stairs, her cheeks still flushed from the confrontation. She paused at the edge of the main floor, taking a moment to compose herself before stepping into view of the early patrons who had begun to arrive.
Mrs Spindlewood stood at the entrance, welcoming a pair of elegantly dressed fae ladies. Iris watched as Lady Rivenna glided forward, exchanging pleasantries with the newcomers before personally guiding them to a table near the center of the room. Iris noticed how the table was positioned perfectly within earshot of where a younger gentleman and an older woman who might have been his mother were already seated, deep in conversation. Lady Rivenna then guided a trio of young lords to a table adjacent to where several debutantes sat with their chaperones. Before long, conversations began to spark between neighboring tables.
Iris smiled, shaking her head a little in wonder. What might appear random to anyone else now revealed itself as an intricate dance of social engineering. Every placement seemed calculated, every ‘chance’ encounter designed. Even now, Mrs Spindlewood was subtly rearranging the chair positions at one of the tables—after a whispered discussion with Lady Rivenna—to createa more intimate setting for what appeared to be a reunion between old friends.
“Fascinating, isn’t it?” Lady Rivenna’s voice came from beside her, and Iris started, not having noticed her approach. “Most believe they choose their own seats based on preference or availability. Few realize how deliberately their interactions are orchestrated.”
“It’s remarkable,” Iris admitted, continuing to watch. “I would never have noticed had I not been looking for it.”
Lady Rivenna’s lips curved in satisfaction. “The best manipulations are those that remain invisible.” She gestured toward the honeysuckle-draped alcove. “This morning, you will sit there in my personal private space and simply observe. Listen to the tea house, watch its subtle changes. Take note of what you see and hear, but do not intervene. I shall sit with you later this morning, and you can tell me what you’ve learned.”
Iris nodded, then made her way across the floor toward the private alcove. As she slipped past the curtain of trailing vines, she felt a curious sense of welcome. The cushions on the window seat seemed to plump themselves invitingly, and a shaft of sunlight angled through the window, illuminating the small table where a delicate porcelain cup sat waiting, filled with fragrant tea.
She placed her new notebook carefully on the window seat and settled herself comfortably beside it, taking a deep breath as she prepared to immerse herself in the life of The Charmed Leaf. From this vantage point, partially concealed by greenery yet offering a view of the majority of the main floor, she began to understand why Lady Rivenna treasured this particular spot. It was both sanctuary and observation post, a place to witness everything while appearing to notice nothing.
At first, she simply watched the steady stream of patrons, but gradually, something odd caught her attention. She blinked,then stared harder at the far wall. Had that alcove always curved quite that way? She could have sworn … She kept her gaze fixed on the spot, barely daring to breathe. Yes—there! The wall itself was moving, ever so slowly, creating a more intimate space for the young couple sharing tea and significant glances.
If she hadn’t been watching so intently, she might have missed it entirely. The changes were subtle, almost imperceptible unless one knew to look. A wall shifting a fraction of an inch, a doorway widening just enough to let in more light, a corner deepening to offer more privacy. And Iris suddenly remembered, with startling clarity, the way she thought she’d imagined the tea house interior stretching and expanding around the table she and her parents had walked toward the day they’d first come in here.
How remarkable! When she’d first heard people claim that The Charmed Leaf had a mind of its own, that it held opinions and preferences, she’d assumed it was merely figurative—a charming exaggeration to explain Lady Rivenna’s uncanny influence. But now Iris saw the truth: the building itself was consciously, physically altering its own architecture, reshaping itself to serve purposes only it fully understood.
Iris reached for the notebook Lady Rivenna had given her, intending to record these observations, but before she could open it, she heard something that made her pause. Voices—soft, delicate things that seemed to come from the very plants surrounding her.
“—simply cannot believe she would wear that shade of blue to a morning tea?—”
“—told him three times already that Father won’t approve?—”
“—if he thinks I’ll simply stand by while he gambles away my dowry?—”
Iris sat very still, listening. The voices seemed to shift and flow around her. Were the vines … No, they couldn’t be. Andyet, as she watched closely, she found she was able to match the words currently reaching her ears to the movement of a woman’s lips at the table on the far side of the tea house.
Iris allowed herself a quiet gasp, her heart pattering faster. The vines were indeed relaying snippets of conversation from throughout the tea house. When Lady Rivenna had said that she sat here and listened to what the tea house had to tell her, she’d meant it quite literally. Iris’s gaze traveled to a table near the window where two ladies and a gentleman sat in apparently peaceful conversation. But now she could hear what lay beneath their pleasant smiles.
