Lord Jasvian’s response came quickly:
I believe I shall endure the loss.
Before she could reach for a new scrap of paper, more words formed beneath the previous message:
Will you be attending tonight, Lady Iris?
Unfortunately not. My grandmother’s lingering illness prevents her from attending, and she refuses to let me go without her supervision. Even if she were well, I suspect she would decline. She likely fears that in a setting where my identity is concealed from everyone—including her—I might commit some grave social transgression.
But no one would know it was you.
True …
And the event would be made all the more interesting for it.
Iris felt her smile widening at his response, a delighted warmth spreading through her chest as she penned her reply.
Lord Jasvian, I do believe you are encouraging me to find a way to attend the masquerade.
I am encouraging nothing of the sort.
Iris tapped her quill against the edge of the notebook, considering her reply. There was something more playful than usual in this exchange. She found herself wishing to prolong it.
If I were to go against my grandmother’s wishes and secretly attend the masquerade tonight—which I would never do—how do you believe an enchanted mask might transform me?
She sent the note on its way, her heart beating a little faster than usual. Why did this particular message feel more daring than all their previous exchanges?
Jasvian’s response took longer than expected to appear, and Iris had begun to sketch idle patterns along the edge of her next blank scrap of paper by the time his message took shape in the notebook.
I imagine the enchantment would bestow upon you an oversized peacock feather that towers ridiculously above your head, transform your gown into an entire tea leaf bush making dancing impossible—which would be a mercy, as who truly enjoys dancing?—and reduce your already diminutive stature to comically miniature proportions.
Laughter burst from Iris’s lips as she read the message. That was certainly not the response she’d been expecting. It was true indeed that Jasvian’s messages were becoming more playful by the day. Before she could reply, another message appeared:
And now that you’ve planted the notion in my mind, I find myself strangely disappointed that neither of us shall be in attendance.
Iris stared at his words, her pulse quickening. Why was it that she found herself strangely disappointed too? She wished once again that her grandmother was well and that she had no reservations about Iris attending an enchanted masquerade. But there was nothing to be done about that.
Before she could reply, a comment appeared in the notebook’s own script:
Ahem. I simply cannot maintain my silence a moment longer. “I find myself strangely disappointed that neither of us shall be in attendance”? What precisely have you written to Lord Brooding in your little paper missiles that has sparked this obvious attempt at flirtation?
Iris’s face warmed, and she pointedly ignored the notebook’s commentary, refusing to acknowledge the implications or give the enchanted book the satisfaction of a response. She took a breath, considering several responses before settling on:
I suspect you’ll find adequate diversion in your ledgers, my lord. They seem never to disappoint you.
An unfair assessment. They disappoint me with alarming regularity, particularly when the numbers refuse to align as they should.
Perhaps they’re staging a small rebellion against your excessive orderliness.
If so, they shall find me a formidable opponent. I always prevail in the end.
Iris pressed her lips together, trying to hold her laugh back. The imposing management tome caught her eye again, its very presence enough to dampen the lightness in her chest. She sighed. If she hoped to complete her assigned work for the day, she really should return to it.
I must return to my studies now, Lord Jasvian. Your grandmother expects me to create an imagined example of aquarterly inventory assessment that actually makes sense, and I’ve scarcely begun to comprehend the concept.
Organization being such a challenge for you.
Indeed. Though I find disorganized thoughts often lead to the most interesting places.
