“That was quite the dramatic exit,” a voice observed from the doorway.
Iris looked up, realizing she’d been too distracted to hear the door open, and found Lady Rivenna watching her with sharp eyes, one silver eyebrow arched in silent inquiry.
“Lord Jasvian?” Iris asked, trying to sound casual. “Yes, he mentioned urgent business at Rowanwood House.”
“Did he indeed?” Lady Rivenna entered the study, ushering in four garden pixies who barely reached the height of her knee. Three of them struggled beneath the weight of an enormous bunch of flowers, while the fourth carried a pitcher of water that appeared comically large in its tiny hands.
“Curious, as I’ve just come from there myself,” Lady Rivenna continued, directing the pixies toward the flower vases positioned around the study. “The house is practically deserted this morning, everyone sleeping off the excesses of last night’s celebration.” She paused beside Iris’s desk, glancing down at the half-formed paper creation. “Your focus appears somewhat lacking today.”
Iris flushed. “I didn’t sleep well.”
“No?” Lady Rivenna’s tone was perfectly neutral, but something in her expression made Iris suspect she knew far more than she was letting on. “The masquerade was quite spectacular. The sort of event that might leave one’s thoughts rather … occupied the following day.”
Around the room, the pixies had begun emptying the old flower arrangements from the vases, dropping wilted petals and half-dried leaves onto the floor.
“Not there!” Lady Rivenna called out, making one pixie freeze mid-motion. “Must I supervise every detail?”
The pixie ducked its head apologetically and used its magic to gather the scattered foliage into a tidy pile.
“I wouldn’t know,” Iris said carefully, addressing Lady Rivenna’s comment. “My grandmother’s illness prevented my attendance, as you know.”
“Ah, yes. Poor Lady Starspun and her illness.” Lady Rivenna leaned across Iris’s desk to adjust the angle of the vase a pixie had just filled with fresh water. “How fortunate that Rosavyn happened to know someone who was precisely your size and unable to attend due to fever.”
Iris froze. “I … that is …”
“Do save your protestations for someone who might believe them,” Lady Rivenna said with a dismissive wave. She crossed the room to the vase that had just been returned to her grandson’s desk, plucked a broken stem from a pixie’s arrangement, and tossed it onto the pile of discarded foliage. “I’ve been orchestrating social machinations in this town since before your parents were born. Did you truly think I wouldn’t keep a watchful eye on that table of enchanted masks and pay attention to the way guests were transformed? In addition, the threads of connection that bind people to one another remain visible to my sight. Such connections are not hidden by any simple enchantment.”
Iris’s face burned. She turned in her chair to face Lady Rivenna. “Are you … upset?”
Lady Rivenna considered this for a moment as she leaned against Jasvian’s desk and folded her arms over her chest. “I should be, I suppose. Attending an event against your family’s wishes, without a chaperone, risking scandal should you be discovered …” She studied Iris with those shrewd eyes. “And yet, I find myself more impressed than angry. It showed initiative. Resourcefulness.”
One of the pixies used its magic to sweep the pile of discarded foliage into a small cloth bag while the one carrying the now empty pitcher almost tripped over Iris’s shoes as it tried to pass her. She quickly pulled her feet out of the way. “Then you’re not going to tell my grandmother?” she asked hopefully.
“What possible benefit would that serve?”
Iris let out a relieved breath. “Thank you.”
“Was it worth it?” Lady Rivenna asked, her head tilted slightly to one side. “The deception, the risk of discovery?”
Iris hesitated only briefly before answering. “Yes. It was.”
“Hmm.” Lady Rivenna nodded at the pixie that pointed questioningly to the one remaining vase on the small table beside the corner armchair. “And who, might I ask, made the evening so memorable for you?”
“I don’t know.” The lie tasted bitter. “Isn’t anonymity the purpose of a masquerade?”
Lady Rivenna’s lips curved into an enigmatic smile. “Indeed.” Just that single word, but something in her tone made Iris wonder if the connections Lady Rivenna saw had revealed precisely who Iris had been dancing with.
“Now,” Lady Rivenna said, moving to the window and gazing out at Bloomhaven’s morning bustle. “The Summer Solstice Grand Ball approaches. Your display must be ready. It will be your final opportunity to demonstrate your abilities and establish your worth. In the eyes of society, at least,” she added with a glance over her shoulder at Iris. “You and I both know your value extends far beyond both magic and bloodline. But we must not forget your family’s expectations. Your apprenticeship here was permitted with the understanding that your social responsibilities would not be neglected. That includes presenting yourself to the best of your ability at the Summer Solstice Grand Ball.”
“I’ve been working on something,” Iris said, grateful for the shift in conversation. She gestured across the room to the various paper creations on the shelf. “A garden scene, with complex elements that transform. I thought perhaps?—”
“If I might make a suggestion,” Lady Rivenna interrupted. “Surely you don’t consider such a display worthy of the occasion?”
Iris blinked. “But we both decided my display should hide the true nature of my abilities. I certainly cannot demonstrate seeing multiple future possibilities unfolding.”
“No, of course not, but perhaps you need not tread quite so seriously.” Lady Rivenna turned away from the window as the pixies finished their work, quietly gathering their cleaning supplies. “Your debut presentation was charming but forgettable. The Solstice Ball requires something more … memorable.”
“What did you have in mind?”
