Iris glared at the page.I did not realize I would be subjected to such criticism from an inanimate object.
I am hardly inanimate, as this conversation rather definitively proves. And if you wished to avoid criticism, perhaps try actions worthy of praise instead.
This was a mistake,Iris wrote, her quill pressing harder than necessary.Or perhaps merely Lady Rivenna’s idea of a silly joke.
Lady Rivenna rarely gives anything without purpose. The question is whether you possess the wisdom to discern that purpose.
Iris’s hand hovered over the page, a dozen sharp retorts dancing on the tip of her quill. But something in the notebook’s words gave her pause. Lady Rivenna had chosen her as an apprentice when no one else in Bloomhaven would have given her a second glance. There had to be a reason.
What is your purpose, then?she wrote finally.
I am an extension of the tea house, in a manner of speaking. My purpose is to guide your education, to respond knowledgeably to your inquiries about your studies, and to assist you in understanding the patterns that might otherwise elude you. I am here to help direct your attention to where improvement is needed.
Your ‘direction’ seems to be accompanied by far more opinions than necessary, Iris wrote with a wry twist to her lips.
No one specified that I should lack personality. Education benefits from a touch of liveliness, does it not? Now. Is there anything in particular that you require assistance with this evening, Lady Iris?
Iris sat back against the window once more. Outside in the distance, a pegasus soared above Bloomhaven, its wings leaving a trail of silver sparks against the darkening sky. After a long moment, she returned her quill to the page.
I am frightened,she wrote, the confession easier to make to an enchanted notebook than to any living person.Everyone expects me to secure my family’s future through marriage, but I can barely navigate a conversation without causing offense. My magic is considered unworthy of proper society. My grandparents see me as a last resort, not a granddaughter to cherish. And now, in addition to stepping into a role I fear I can never live up to, my parents are leaving.
The words appeared slowly this time, as if the notebook was choosing them with particular care:Fear is natural when facing the unknown. But consider this: Your path was never going to be conventional.
Iris stared at the words. She supposed that was true. Being caught between two worlds—fae and human—had always meant she would walk a different path from those whose lives were neatly defined by clear social boundaries and expectations. She had simply hoped to ignore this for as long as possible.
She yawned, suddenly aware of how exhausted she felt after the emotional turmoil of the day.
I should sleep,she wrote.But I think you’ve helped me. Thank you.
There is no need to sound so surprised about it. That is, after all, my purpose.
Iris gave a small smile as she closed the notebook, tucking it into her satchel with newfound care. The weight of herparents’ impending departure still pressed against her heart, but somehow, it felt a fraction lighter than before. As she climbed into bed, her thoughts drifted to Lady Rivenna and the tea house, to Charlotte and Rosavyn, to the strangely opinionated notebook. Perhaps she wasn’t quite as alone as she had feared.
Chapter Seventeen
Iris stepped out of her grandparents’carriage at the edge of Elderbloom Park, squinting slightly as her eyes adjusted to the mid-morning brightness. Even from this distance, she could see the ancient elderfae tree that dominated the center of the park, its massive branches reaching skyward. Stately oak and willow trees lined the winding gravel paths, their leaves rustling gently in the breeze, while ornate marble fountains bubbled with enchanted water that sparkled in the sunlight.
“Do hurry, Iris,” her grandmother said, already moving toward the park entrance. “The morning promenade has already begun.”
Iris fidgeted with the edge of her lace glove, smoothing an imaginary wrinkle before taking her grandfather’s arm when he offered it. “Remember,” he said in a low voice as they followed her grandmother, “today is about being seen. About establishing your place in Bloomhaven society now that your parents have returned home.”
“As was always the plan,” her grandmother added over her shoulder, clearly having overheard despite the distance between them. “That is what we shall tell anyone who inquires. It wasalways intended that you would remain with us for the season while your parents returned to manage affairs at home.”
Iris nodded, biting back the urge to point out that this ‘plan’ had only materialized two days ago. Her grandparents were determined to control the narrative surrounding her parents’ abrupt departure, and she supposed she couldn’t blame them.
Rumors were already circulating, of course. Iris had heard whispers of them the day before as she sat in her alcove at the tea house. She was relieved she now knew of her father’s history in Bloomhaven, otherwise she would have been utterly bewildered by the repeated mentions of ‘that Fields woman’ that floated to her from the vines’ whispers.
Despite everything, there was one small silver lining to her parents’ departure: the strained atmosphere between Iris and her grandparents had lightened somewhat. Dinner the previous night had been marginally less tense than the ones that preceded it, as if her mother’s absence had removed some invisible pressure from the room.
Her grandmother slowed as they entered the park, allowing Iris and her grandfather to draw closer. “My maid Frances told me she overheard the Locklear heir inquiring about you,” she said, her voice pitched just for their ears. “His family possesses an admirable estate to the north.”
“Locklear?” her grandfather scoffed quietly. “They may have land, but their influence has waned considerably. The Blackbriar family would be a far more advantageous connection.”
“The Blackbriars are certainly well-positioned,” her grandmother conceded with a small nod. “Though I hear Lady Thornhart has already set her sights on Lord Blackbriar for her youngest granddaughter.”
“Lady Thornhart can set her sights wherever she pleases. The Starspun name still carries weight, despite …” Her grandfathertrailed off, his fingers tightening almost imperceptibly on Iris’s arm.
“Despite our financial situation,” her grandmother finished bluntly, though still keeping her voice low. “Which is precisely why we must be strategic. Lord Jasvian Rowanwood would have been the most advantageous match by far, had Iris not engaged in that regrettable exchange with him at the Opening Ball.”
