Page 7 of Iris of the Crowned Flame

Spencer and I spent the next hour reminiscing about our lives since we last saw each other, and then recalling some of our misadventures. It was nice to reconnect and to share these stories with Ivy. Spencer enjoyed sharing some of the more embarrassing stories with her, too, much to my chagrin. And the whole time, I kept catching him staring at me with a look I couldn’t recognize. I suppose he might have been catching me staring, too. I couldn’t quite put a finger on it, but while he was exactly the same boy I remember with such fondness from my childhood, he was also so much more. He really grew into his body. I last saw a gangly, lean teen with a face still sporting chubby cheeks and knees so bony that he sometimes resembled a foal trying to navigate the barn for the first time. Now he had high cheekbones, an angular jaw, glistening emerald eyes, dimples that accented his smile, and the confidence of a leader.

His gaze caught mine again, and this time he didn’t let it go. “Lyla, some people would say that staring is impolite.” He bit his lower lip to hold back a smile, and my eyes darted to Ivy. I could feel my cheeks heating and Ivy didn’t do well at holding back her giggle.

“Some people probably would. And what would you say?” I couldn’t say why I got so bold, but I rolled with it. I returned my gaze to his, this time holding it.

He let his smile free as he said, “I’m flattered that you can’t take your eyes off me. I’ve been struggling to keep mine off you. You’ve grown since we last met, and I think it’s been only the best of enhancements that have graced your beauty.”

Oh. Oh, he went there. My heart raced, and my blush deepened more. My hands instinctually covered my chest as if to hide, and I felt at a loss for words. For a moment, I could even see him wearing my father’s crown… and not much else. The image did not help me regain my composure. Ivy used the opportunity my silence gave to rescue me. “Alright, you two, let’s give the other eligible men half of a fighting chance tomorrow evening. Spencer, I thoroughly enjoyed the stories tonight and look forward to what I hope will be many more nights of sharing stories and perhaps even creating a few. I hope you enjoy the rest of your evening.”

She got up and headed to the door, with Spencer nervously standing to follow, turning to me just before he left. “Lyla, I apologize for crossing any lines. I thought I sensed more of a connection from you. Please know I hold nothing but respect for you and our history.”

“Spencer, you have only behaved with grace. I look forward to seeing you tomorrow and shall reserve a dance with you.” I smiled, hoping it would soothe his fears. He returned the smile and offered a small bow of his head as he pulled the door shut.

Ivy leaned against the door, audibly counted to ten to make sure he was out of earshot, and then let out a squeal as she rushed back to the table. “He is so very dreamy! How could you not just select him right at this moment? He is so into you, too!”

I smiled at her energy. As handsome as he might be, and as charming as he was, I still don’t know that marrying him was right. “We practically grew up together, Ivy. He feels just as much of a brother as Ethan is.” I scrunched my nose, imagining marrying my brother. “Besides, his kingdom and Elthas have always had strong ties. It might not be the best step politically. I need to make sure I make the right decision for our people. This is about more than me.”

I got up and moved to the vanity to remove my hair pins. Ivy followed to help, reaching for the ones I’d never hope to find. “You know, it’s ok to marry for yourself and to improve diplomatic relations in other ways. You don’t have to sell yourself for the good of the country, and I’m certain our people wouldn’t want you to be miserable on their behalf.”

Ivy had such a good point. Wasn’t one of the reasons I was so opposed to the idea of marriage because of how it’s been used to subjugate the women of our kingdom? Why am Ifollowing the same path? I know I can’t escape marriage, but why couldn’t I marry for love, for true companionship? Why do I feel the need to sell my kingdom’s security with my body and my family’s future? What if I just asked the Council to allow me to take a bride instead?

This really was the last thing I wanted to be doing.

CHAPTER 6

The day of the ball bustled with activity. Thankfully, Father and I could reschedule all routine meetings off this day, so that I could handle the event, and getting ready for it. He stood by, ready to intercept any issues. The event planner was running through the list one last time with me to ensure the timing of the various announcements and festivities, while Ivy and Amyra helped me with my hair. They had wet my long, normally straight chestnut hair before dawn and twisted it around dozens of thin ropes. Now that the ball was just two hours from starting, they were taking the twists out so that my hair had a tight curl. After releasing the twists, they took my hair and wove it into a waterfall style, pinning the face-framing strands to the back to hide the tiara’s edge. This was always one of Mother’s favorite styles on me, but it was so much effort to create, especially since the twists never stayed overnight in my hair, so we always need to wake up early to start the process.

The tiara they chose was not just beautiful — it was breathtaking, almost painfully so. A pink morganite gleamed at its center, soft yet commanding, set in an intricate weave of gold filigree that curled like flames caught in a frozen moment. Brilliant sapphires, crimson rubies, and gleaming amethysts scattered down the sides, catching the light with every movementlike bright embers trapped in metal. It looked like something plucked from a fairytale; a crown meant for a queen beloved by her people.

But I knew better than to be swept away by its beauty. The weight of it pressed heavy on my head, not just in gold and gemstones, but in expectation, duty, control. A silent warning of the role they needed me to play — the queen they wanted me to become. I didn’t know if I was being adorned for celebration or sacrifice. Maybe both. Maybe neither. Maybe it didn’t matter, because I wouldn’t let them decide for me.

I couldn’t deny its beauty, nor the strength it symbolized. But I could refuse to let it cage me. Even as the gold circled my head like a noose disguised as a crown, I let my chin lift just a little higher, daring it to tighten.

Just as they finished securing the tiara, Eliza entered the room. Amyra jumped up, “Oh perfect, Eliza, we are ready for the dress now! What do you think of Lyla’s hair and tiara?”

Eliza sized me up and nodded. “It is magnificent. I’m afraid, Princess, that I may have set the bar too high. Please forgive me.” Opaque white paper hid the dress she held, preventing me from seeing any details. Eliza unwrapped it using delicate, practiced movements, and I could finally lay my eyes on it.

I gasped at what was in front of me, struck speechless by the dress she had created. I had never seen a dress this gorgeous in my life. The fabrics were a mixture of the pinks and oranges that Eliza had heard me discussing with the planners throughout our many fittings. Before I could even say a word about it, all three women were eagerly helping me to step into it. Once it was on, they helped me up onto my stool so that Eliza could evaluate for fit, and Amyra and Ivy helped me into my shoes for the evening. The dress looked even more stunning on me. The structured bodice fit to my torso, providing a sweetheart neckline that accentuated my chest perfectly. A twist of sparkling orange and pink tulle wrapped around my upper arms in an illusion of sleeves. The skirt of the dress seemed to be made entirely of layers of pink tulle,with pale pink fabric orchids delicately hand-sewn throughout. Eliza had pulled out a bouquet of real irises and started pinning the delicate flowers into the dress. I hadn’t ever seen anyone wear real flowers in their dress before, and the effect was stunning.

As I stared at my reflection, a tear rolled down my face. My mother would have loved to see this. I was never much for getting dressed up like this, but she lived for this type of excitement, and this dress would have floored her. “Eliza, it truly is perfect. I am so glad you had this vision.”

Eliza smiled, mouth full of pins, as she attached another iris along my waist. Amyra noticed my tear and wiped it away with a peach-colored square of cloth. She handed the square to me. “My sweet Queen, you are stunning. I adore this on you and know that you will find the perfect princely consort tonight. Here, take this square. You have pockets on your sides. Stick this in there, in case you need it. I have seen the ball room today, and I suspect you will continue to be moved to tears. The Queen truly surrounded your family with people who understand you and want to celebrate you in ways I don’t think you realize yet.”

Many aspects of this evening felt like the end of my life, but it sounded as if our court was full of people determined to make it memorable. For the first time, I felt excited.

At that moment, a knock sounded at my door. Ivy stepped back and surveyed me, then provided a firm nod. “You are ready to receive people. Shall I check?”

I nodded, and she turned to the door, cracking it open.

Ethan strolled inside like he owned the palace — which, if I hadn’t been the heir, he probably would have. He looked annoyingly handsome in his usual choice of formal wear: black on black, a flat black shirt with silky matching pants and coat. His only pop of color was a crisp white satin bow tie, which somehow made the rest of him look even more dangerously charming. This had become his unofficial uniform for palace balls, and it suited him far too well.

“About time,” he teased, flashing a grin as he caught Ivy’seye. “You let her wear all this and didn’t save me a preview?” He let his gaze sweep over me with exaggerated flair, then turned to Ivy, giving her a playful once-over. “And you look far too composed for a night of mischief, Ivy.”

She arched an unimpressed brow at him, but I didn’t miss the faint twitch of a smirk at the corner of her mouth.

“Ethan,” I interrupted, fighting the urge to roll my eyes, “I’m glad you’re here. It’s almost time to head to the ball, and I want to review my choices before we go.”

The teasing faded from his expression, replaced by focus as he shifted smoothly into his role. Whatever else Ethan was, he never failed me when it mattered.

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