He reached for the next invoice and scanned it, but the figures began to blur as his attention kept wandering across the room. The silence stretched between them, heavy and pointed.Normally, he would have welcomed such peace, but today it felt like an accusation.
After another minute or two of staring at the same invoice without making any progress, he cleared his throat. “I see you’ve decided not to speak to me. Is this because of yesterday’s … exchange?”
Iris finally looked up, her expression carefully neutral as she glanced at him. “I have determined that conversation between us inevitably leads to argument. It seems more efficient for each of us to simply pretend the other does not exist.”
“Indeed?” Jasvian found himself strangely irritated by her calm assessment. “I suppose that is one solution.”
“You’re welcome to propose an alternative,” she said, her tone so perfectly reasonable it bordered on maddening.
“No, your approach suits me perfectly. I have complex calculations that require my full concentration. Silence will work well.”
“Excellent.”
And with that, she returned to her work, effectively dismissing him.
Jasvian stared at her bent head for a long moment before forcing his attention back to his own papers. The figures now made even less sense than before. He took a deep breath to clear his head, then copied the numbers from various invoices to calculate the total expenditure. He made an error, crossed out his work, and made another two errors before giving up with a quiet huff of frustration.
Despite his best efforts, his awareness of Iris’s presence seemed to have intensified now that they had agreed not to speak. The soft rustle as she turned a page, the occasional scratch of her quill, even the rhythm of her breathing—all of it conspired to disrupt his concentration.
He glanced up again just as she tucked a stray lock of hair behind one slightly pointed ear, revealing the elegant line of her neck. As if sensing his gaze, she shifted in her chair, the movement releasing another wave of—what was it? Orange blossom? Jasvian found himself inhaling deeply before he could stop himself.
This was intolerable. How was he supposed to work while she sat there being so … present?
His gaze fell on the notebook lying open on her desk. She had moved it a little to the side as she focused on a page in one of the books in front of her, and from his vantage point, he could see that the current page was blank.
He picked up his quill, hesitated for just a moment, and then cast a communication spell he and his siblings had taught themselves years ago. Originally intended for sending messages across ballrooms during particularly tedious social events, it would serve his current purpose well enough.
He released magic into his quill and wrote on his own paper, beneath the scratched-out calculation:Your endless page-turning is exceedingly distracting.
Across the room, it took a few moments before Iris stiffened. Jasvian watched as she noticed the words appearing on her blank notebook page. For a long moment, she simply stared at them. Then she reached for a loose sheet of parchment, wrote something quickly, then sat back as it quickly folded itself into a perfectly crisp envelope. The paper creation lifted from her desk and flew across the room, landing precisely in front of him.
He unfolded it to find a message written in a neat, flowing hand:
How unfortunate. Perhaps you might consider relocating to another workspace if my study habits disturb you so greatly. I was here first, after all.
Jasvian found the corner of his mouth twitching upward before he mastered the impulse. He penned his reply:
This has been my workspace for years. I will not be driven out by your inability to turn pages quietly.
He watched with satisfaction as his words materialized in her notebook. Her shoulders tensed again, but she didn’t turn around. Instead, another paper envelope soon made its way to his desk.
I wasn’t aware that mastering silent page-turning was a prerequisite for occupying this study. How remiss of Lady Rivenna not to mention this crucial requirement.
Despite himself, Jasvian felt a spark of … something. He wrote:
Lady Rivenna would never be so impolite as to mention such a deficiency directly. She would expect one to have the self-awareness to recognize it.
The next paper envelope pirouetted through the air with unnecessary flourish before landing on his desk:
How thoughtless of me. Just as it would be thoughtless to mention someone’s apparent inability to complete a calculation without sighing dramatically. Yet here we are.
Jasvian glanced down at his work, noting with chagrin the multiple crossed-out figures. He wrote:
I am not sighing ‘dramatically.’ I am expressing justified frustration at being unable to focus on important financial matters while someone insists on creating miniature windstorms with every turn of a page.
I had no idea paper could be so loud. Perhaps the sound is merely amplified by the echoing silence where your good manners should be.
A snort escaped Jasvian before he could stop it. He cleared his throat and sat a little straighter, still fighting a smile. There was something oddly liberating about arguing in writing ratherthan aloud. The slight removal allowed him to appreciate Iris’s quick wit without the immediate pressure to maintain his stern demeanor.
