You misunderstand. It is not the sound of the paper, but the obvious deliberation with which you turn each page. Clearly calculated to disrupt my concentration.
He watched as she read his message, her posture straightening indignantly. The next envelope practically shot across the room:
Oh yes, because my entire purpose in life is to disrupt Lord Jasvian Rowanwood’s precious concentration. How did you discover my nefarious plot? I’ve been meticulously practicing disruptive page-turning for years, awaiting this very opportunity.
He had to catch himself before another snort could escape.
Your sarcasm is noted, Lady Iris. Though I must point out that dedicating one’s existence to disrupting my concentration seems a rather dull and limiting life purpose.
Still more satisfying than your apparent life purpose, which seems to revolve entirely around sitting at your desk and glowering at innocent accounts. Do the numbers tremble in fear when you approach, or do they merely cower respectfully?
Jasvian’s lips twitched. Biting back a smile, he wrote:
They arrange themselves in perfect order, naturally. Unlike your tendency to arrange your desk in what appears to be complete chaos.
He looked at her workspace as he finished writing. Books open to various pages, loose sheets of notes scattered across the surface, several jars of tea ingredients positioned with no apparent system.
Not all of us feel the need to arrange our lives with unyielding precision. Some of us appreciate the beauty ofspontaneity. Though I understand such concepts might be beyond your rigid comprehension.
Jasvian glanced at his own meticulously arranged desk, everything placed at precise angles, and felt a curious twinge of self-consciousness.
Organization is not rigidity, but efficiency. Though I wouldn’t expect someone whose research system consists of marking pages with sprigs of rosemary, buttons, and even a dried orange slice to appreciate such distinctions.
He watched as she finally half-turned, glancing at him over her shoulder with one eyebrow raised before returning to her writing:
Have you been keeping track of my highly creative bookmark selection? How flattering to know I occupy so much of your attention. Perhaps that explains your inability to focus on your precious calculations.
Her observation hit uncomfortably close to the mark. Jasvian shifted in his chair, suddenly aware of how much he had been watching her, noticing her habits, cataloging her expressions. He wrote:
Merely an observation made in passing. Do not flatter yourself that you command any significant portion of my thoughts.
A blatant lie, and from the tone of her next note, she knew it:
Of course not. You merely tracked my bookmark choices, noted my page-turning volume, and initiated this written conversation because I occupy so little of your attention. Perfectly logical.
Jasvian felt heat rising in his cheeks. He was grateful she wasn’t looking at him directly.
I initiated this conversation because your disruptive presence was preventing me from working. Nothing more.
Her reply was infuriatingly smug:
And yet here you are, continuing to engage rather than simply ignoring me. Curious behavior for someone so determined to focus on his work.
She had him there. Why was he continuing this exchange? He should return to his calculations, should prove that he could indeed ignore her presence. Instead, he found himself writing:
Perhaps I am merely being polite by responding to your notes.
The paper envelope that floated back to him seemed to do so with an air of triumph:
Lord Jasvian Rowanwood, choosing politeness over productivity? Alert the gossip birds—this is truly unprecedented news.
Jasvian worked to suppress another smile. The morning sun had shifted, casting a warm glow across the room that caught in Iris’s dark hair, highlighting strands that weren’t purely black but rather a deep, rich brown. He found himself staring at the play of light before forcing his attention back to their exchange.
Very amusing. I see your wit is as sharp as ever, if somewhat misdirected.
My wit is precisely directed, thank you very much. Your reception of it, however, remains questionable.
Jasvian was formulating a suitably cutting reply when the door to the study opened. They both looked up, hastily shuffling papers as Lady Rivenna entered.
