“I consider myself extremely fortunate to have been selected,” Iris said carefully.
“I’m sure you are precisely the right person for the position,” Lord Hadrian said warmly. “You would not have been chosen without good reason, regardless of what certain people might suggest.”
Iris’s eyebrows rose slightly. “Certain people, yes. Like Lady Rivenna’s own grandson, Lord Jasvian.”
Hadrian’s expression turned briefly chagrined. “Ah, yes. Whatever my friend has said to you, I must apologize for him. He can be rather … set in his ways.”
“Indeed,” Iris said, her smile tightening somewhat. “That is one way of describing him.”
As her grandparents and Lady Blackbriar engaged in their own conversation about an upcoming ball, Lord Hadrian asked Iris about her experience at The Charmed Leaf thus far. His genuine interest in her responses caught her off guard. Most conversations with Bloomhaven’s elite felt more like carefullychoreographed dances than actual exchanges. He inquired about her magic, calling her demonstration at the Opening Ball ‘uniquely beautiful,’ and asked about how she’d discovered her ability—though Iris delicately sidestepped that particular question without actually answering it.
“Iris, my dear,” her grandfather’s voice interrupted, “Lady Blackbriar was just mentioning their family’s upcoming ball.”
“Indeed,” Lady Blackbriar said with a gracious smile. “We would be delighted if you would join us.”
“How lovely,” Iris’s grandmother replied. “We would be most?—”
“Rosavyn! Aurelise! Do slow down, for stars’ sake!”
Iris turned at the familiar voice, her stomach performing an unwelcome flip. Lord Jasvian Rowanwood strode along the path behind them, looking distinctly irritated as he followed two young women who had nearly reached their group. Rosavyn, her face radiant with delight, hurried forward with a younger girl who bore a striking resemblance to her.
“Iris!” Rosavyn exclaimed, eschewing formality entirely. “How wonderful to see you here!”
“LadyIris,” Lord Jasvian corrected stiffly as he caught up to his sisters, his gaze moving from Iris to Hadrian and back again, narrowing slightly.
Rosavyn rolled her eyes. “Do forgive my brother’s tedious adherence to protocol. Iris, this is my sister, Aurelise. Aurelise, this is Iris—the one I told you about.”
The younger girl curtseyed, her movements graceful. “Pleased to meet you, my lady.”
The adults exchanged greetings, and soon the conversation had split once more—the elder generation discussing some upcoming social event while Rosavyn asked Willow about her favorite places to sketch in Bloomhaven and Aurelise listened politely. This left Iris standing somewhat awkwardly betweenHadrian and Jasvian, the tension that radiated from the latter almost palpable.
“I see you’ve been getting acquainted with Hadrian,” Jasvian observed, his tone carefully neutral in a way that suggested significant effort.
“Lord Blackbriar has been most welcoming,” Iris replied, equally careful. “A refreshing change from some of my earlier encounters in Bloomhaven.”
Lord Hadrian chuckled. “I was just apologizing for your frequent lack of social graces.”
“Which was hardly your place,” Lord Jasvian said, his jaw tightening.
“Someone had to do it,” Hadrian replied good-naturedly.
“Lord Blackbriar has been kind enough to take a more charitable view of my paper-folding magic than certain others have expressed,” Iris said, unable to resist the slight barb.
“Indeed?” Lord Jasvian’s eyebrow arched. “And what exactly did you find so captivating about Lady Iris’s abilities, Hadrian?”
“I found her artistry and precision remarkable,” Hadrian replied. “There’s something quite enchanting about magic that takes something entirely ordinary and reveals its extraordinary potential.”
Before Iris could reply, Rosavyn suddenly gasped. “Oh! Look at that!” She pointed toward a clearing where a collection of water sprites were dancing across the surface of a small pond, their movements painting glowing patterns that hung suspended in the air. “Lord and Lady Starspun, you simply must see this. It only happens when the morning light hits the water at precisely the right angle.”
With remarkable deftness—and for reasons Iris could not fathom—Rosavyn managed to guide all but Lord Jasvian toward the display, leaving Iris alone with the very person she had hoped most to avoid.
The silence between them stretched uncomfortably.
“Hadrian seems quite taken with you,” Jasvian finally said, his tone neutral but his eyes sharp.
“He has been perfectly polite,” Iris replied. “Though I understand that concept might be foreign to you.”
“There is a difference between politeness and whatever display that was,” Jasvian said, nodding in the direction Hadrian had gone. “He is not usually so … effusive.”
