How marvelous. Our daily correspondence commences. I shall observe this one-sided exchange from afar this time. Perhaps someday you might deign to share YOUR half of the conversation. Though I must admit, attempting to deduce your responses provides me with a modicum of intellectual diversion.
Iris shook her head and allowed herself a quiet laugh as she pulled a few loose sheets of paper from the collection she now made sure to keep tucked into the back of the notebook. She placed her quill on the first blank page.
I now understand your perpetual expression of deep concentration, my lord. These accounting principles could render even the most energetic sprite comatose.
Her tiny folded envelope flitted swiftly out the window and upward. Iris leaned forward, watching its journey until it disappeared from view, imagining Jasvian at his desk above, his brow furrowed in that particular way it did when he was focused.
A curious thought struck her then, one that had surfaced occasionally these past two weeks. Since discovering her true abilities and gaining some measure of control over them, she had not once attempted to glimpse Jasvian’s possible futures. She certainly could try now, if she went upstairs to the study. A simple moment of concentration, a deliberate loosening of her control, and the possibilities surrounding him might unfold before her eyes like paper creations taking shape.
Yet something held her back whenever she found herself curious about him. It felt … improper somehow. Intrusive, as if she were reading private correspondence not meant for her eyes. Though that wasn’t the full truth, since apparently she felt none of that same hesitation when it came to seeing anyone else’s possible paths. No, the real reason was … something that felt uncomfortably like fear.
What if she saw something—orsomeone—she did not want to see in Jasvian’s possible future? What if she saw him with some beautiful, full-blooded fae lady of impeccable lineage and suitable magical ability, their futures entwined in ways that made perfect sense for the heir to the Rowanwood fortune?
But that was silly, she told herself firmly. It did not concern her who Jasvian Rowanwood ended up with—if anyone. Her reluctance was simply respect for his privacy, nothing more. And truly, what purpose would it serve to glimpse the possible paths laid out before him?? His future did not concern her.
Welcome to my daily torment, came his reply, pulling her from her thoughts.Though I find a certain satisfaction in bringing order to chaos that I suspect you might lack.
Iris smiled and penned her response:
Perhaps. Though I confess I’ve discovered an unexpected appreciation for your dedication. These pages are merciless.
There was a longer than usual pause before his response:
High praise indeed. Speaking of dedication, you’ve shown remarkable restraint in avoiding the topic that has consumed all of Bloomhaven’s attention for days.
Iris smiled and decided to take the bait.
Lord Jasvian, might I enquire if you will be donning a magical mask at tonight’s masquerade?
Most likely I shall not attend.
Iris blinked in surprise at his response, then penned her own:
Does it not take place at your own residence?
That does not mean I must attend.
Iris considered this point. He wasn’t wrong.
It’s true that your presence will not be missed, given that everyone’s identities are hidden.
Precisely. There is little point to me being present at the type of event I am generally not comfortable with if no one is even aware of my presence.
Iris paused, contemplating the revelation, perhaps unintentional, that Jasvian did not feel comfortable at social events. Now that she thought about it, though, had he not expressed something to this effect early on in their acquaintance? Something about … not being able to converse easily in a crowd. Was this what contributed to his … what had Lord Hadrian called it? Lack of social graces? Perhaps the serious and imposing Lord Jasvian was simply … shy?
She tore a new sheet of paper into smaller pieces and wrote:
Are you not curious though?
About what?
You may be missing out on the opportunity for dazzling conversation with a mysterious young lady of secret identity.
I do not believe I am known for my ‘dazzling conversation’ skills.
Iris couldn’t help the quiet snort of laughter that escaped her. She scribbled:
I did not mean yours but rather hers.
