Indeed, the distinctive sound of gossip birds filled the air—shrill, excited squawking that somehow managed to form garbled words. These magical creatures, neither fully bird nor fully spell, were the bane of polite society and the delight of scandal-mongers throughout Bloomhaven.
Rosavyn leapt from her chaise. “What are they saying?” she demanded, hurrying to join her sister at the window.
“Girls, please!” their mother protested. “This undignified behavior?—”
But both girls were now hanging out the window, straining to catch the gossip birds’ cries.
“Starspun half-breed!” Rosavyn repeated, turning back to the room with wide eyes. “Did you hear that? They’re shrieking about a ‘Starspun half-breed.’ What on earth does that mean?”
Lady Rivenna sighed. “It means the day has been even more interesting than I initially indicated.”
“Grandmother?” Rosavyn prompted, abandoning the window and leaning over the raised end of the chaise. “Do tell us! Who is this mysterious half-breed the birds are so excited about?”
“The term is vulgar and beneath you,” Lady Rivenna admonished. “But since you’ll hear it from less reliable sources if not from me, the Starspun family has returned to Bloomhavenfor the season. Lord Errisen Starspun, his human wife, and their daughter.”
A shocked silence fell over the room.
“Human wife?” Evryn was the first to recover. “A Starspun married a human?”
“It would appear so, yes. About twenty years ago,” Lady Rivenna confirmed. “And now they’ve returned with their half-fae daughter, who it seems has manifested magic despite her mixed heritage.”
“How extraordinary,” their mother murmured.
“I should very much like to meet her,” Rosavyn declared. “A half-human fae with manifested powers! She must be fascinating.”
“You will do no such thing,” Jasvian said firmly. The last thing his sister needed was association with a social pariah, especially when she herself had yet to manifest.
Rosavyn shot him a defiant look. “You’re not the arbiter of my social circle, Jasvian.”
“No, but I am responsible for this family’s standing in society,” he countered. “A responsibility I take seriously, even if others do not.”
“Children,” their mother interjected with a warning glance at both of them. “Let’s not quarrel.” She turned to Rivenna. “What would possess Errisen Starspun to return now, after all this time? And with … well …”
“With his human wife and half-fae child?” Rivenna finished the thought. “That is the question everyone is asking. Though I suspect we’ll have our answer soon enough.” She settled back in her chair, a small smile curving her lips. “I believe the girl will be presented at the Opening Ball. It would appear, my dears, that the young Lady Iris Starspun is hoping to secure herself a match.”
Chapter Four
Contrary to whatthe gossip birds had been squawking all over Bloomhaven for the past several days, Iris Starspun had no intention of marrying. Marriage, as she’d witnessed, was not a path to partnership, but to oblivion. And Iris had no intention of fading away.
The Opening Ball had arrived however, and there was no getting out of it. She sat in a carriage with her parents, wearing a gown of midnight blue silk that shimmered with countless silver threads woven like constellations against the night sky. Her dark hair had been arranged in a neat but not overly elaborate coiffure, with a dusting of magical glitter that caught the light whenever she moved her head. She suspected she had been dressed deliberately to evoke the night sky, a rather heavy-handed reference to her family name. The irony wasn’t lost on her that, unlike generations of Starspuns before her, she hadn’t manifested any power remotely connected to starlight or celestial magic.
Instead, she could fold paper. Hardly the awe-inspiring magic one would expect from one of the oldest fae bloodlines in the United Fae Isles.
Iris turned to look out of the carriage window as they left Bloomhaven behind and traveled up the hill toward Solstice Hall, the High Lady’s grand summer palace, along with the rest of the prominent fae families that had gathered from across the United Fae Isles. The enchanted road was lined with cherry trees in bloom, their delicate pink petals drifting down like fragrant snow, and at the top of the hill, Iris could see Solstice Hall itself, its walls gleaming with a warm gold radiance as it reflected the fading daylight.
The closer they drew to the palace, the heavier Iris’s sense of dread became, inevitably bringing to mind the discouraging events of the past few days. It had been made painfully clear to her just how unwelcome she was in Bloomhaven society. Every outing had been an exercise in enduring sideways glances and whispered conversations that ceased the moment she drew near. Even the walk she’d taken in Elderbloom Park with the lady’s maid her grandmother had assigned to her had been disastrous. Two young women—both beautifully dressed and clearly from prominent families—had practically sprinted in the opposite direction, one almost pulling the other over, when Iris had attempted a friendly greeting.
“Remember to smile, darling,” her mother said now, breaking into her thoughts. Her mother’s own smile appeared to have been carefully pinned in place, much like the enchanted flowers adorning her pale green gown. “And if anyone makes unpleasant remarks, simply pretend you haven’t heard them.”
“I’ve had quite a bit of practice with that particular skill these past few days,” Iris replied dryly.
Her father frowned. “Iris …” he began.
“Did Grandmother and Grandfather leave ahead of us?” Iris asked, attempting a swift subject change.
“Yes, I believe they planned to arrive early,” her mother replied. “They wanted to secure advantageous positions in the ballroom.”
“And ensure proper distance from us, no doubt,” Iris muttered.
