Page 71 of Tempests & Tea Leaves
“I’m happy to hear it,” Iris replied, and as they completed another turn, she added, “What shall we speak of next, then?The enchanted ceiling? I don’t think I’ve seen an illusion quite like it before.”
“It’s remarkable,” he agreed, glancing upward. “Maintaining an enchantment of this complexity for an entire evening requires considerable magical skill and attention to detail.”
“The stars seem so real,” Iris observed, admiring the twinkling lights above. “I wonder if they’re arranged in true constellations or merely designed for beauty.”
“I’ve studied the illusion quite carefully,” he admitted, “and I believe the stars are simply arranged in random patterns. I was disappointed at first—a missed opportunity to replicate the true order of constellations—but the more I observe it, the more I appreciate what has been accomplished. There’s a certain … creative chaos to it that has its own appeal.”
Iris nearly missed a step as recognition dawned with startling clarity.
Lord Jasvian, she thought with a jolt of surprise.
“My lady?” he asked, noticing her misstep. “Are you all right?”
A retort nearly escaped her:You said you weren’t coming!And then, almost immediately:I thought you were a terrible dancer!And then?—
Then she pressed her lips firmly together, because revealing that she recognized him would give away her own identity, and she wasn’t yet prepared for that. There might be … advantages to this situation. Perhaps she might discover aspects of the reserved, guarded Lord Jasvian that he would not ordinarily disclose.
And … well, there also happened to be the fact that she was rather enjoying the warmth of his hand pressed against the small of her back up until the moment she’d realized preciselywhothe hand belonged to. That same hand now guided her through a graceful turn, its pressure steady and assured against the curveof her waist. The heat of his touch, and something about the fact that she now knew it washim,sent an odd shiver through her.
“Yes, I’m fine, thank you,” she said as they returned to their original positions. Her eyes darted up once more, seeking that familiar gaze beyond the mask, but the enchantment had turned his eyes a deep blue. How very strange to think that it was Lord Brooding himself behind this mask.
As they moved through an elegant series of turns, Iris found herself impressed by the assurance of his lead, his movements confident yet never forceful, anticipating each step with remarkable timing. In truth, he was an excellent dancer. Was it simply because of the pressure to make conversation that he generally avoided dancing?
Curiosity began to build within her as they continued to dance, the melody shifting seamlessly into another piece. Here was an opportunity she might never have again—to speak with Jasvian without the weight of their past interactions coloring every word. Protected by anonymity, perhaps she could learn more about the man behind the perpetual frown.
She did not want to lie to him, but she would need to be strategic with her questions. “I’m familiar with Bloomhaven and its prominent families—” that wasn’t a lie; she had discovered much since arriving here “—but I’m still learning about the specific magic of all those who have manifested prior to the last few years. Do you know anything about Lord Rowanwood’s specific magic?”
If she had not already guessed his identity, the way he stiffened would most likely have given him away. “I know, of course, that it’s related to sensing the building of mine tempests,” she added quickly, “but I don’t believe I fully understand the extent of his power. Do you know anything about it?”
“I believe I do know a thing or two,” he replied, his voice carefully neutral.
Iris looked up at him expectantly, hoping her masked appearance would encourage him to speak more freely.
“You are correct,” he said finally, “that Lord Jasvian can sense the building of mine tempests. His magic is particularly attuned to the gathering of volatile magic around raw lumyrite deposits. When in close proximity to the mines, he is aware of the constant, low thrum of energy emanating from the raw lumyrite. Should that energy begin to coalesce significantly, however—signaling the inevitable formation of a tempest—he can detect that dangerous surge even across considerable distances. The feeling is similar to hearing distant thunder, I’m told, though no one else can detect it. And in addition to sensing the building tempest, he can also calm the wild magic before it erupts.”
“That sounds extremely useful,” Iris observed, “though rather taxing, I imagine.”
He nodded, guiding her through another turn. “Indeed.”
“Can he sense other types of unstable magic as well?” Iris asked, thinking of something Lady Rivenna had said the night she helped Iris understand the full extent of her own magic. The older woman had mentioned being alerted to Iris’s situation by someone possessing the ability to detect such unexpected magical surges.
“Yes, I believe he can,” Jasvian replied after a brief hesitation. “Similar to the tempests, he can feel when other magic threatens to erupt beyond control.”
Iris nodded, her suspicion confirmed, deciding now was not the time to examine precisely how she felt about the fact that he’d been fully aware she’d lost control of her own power that night. Curious, she added, “And can he calm that magic as well?”
“If necessary, yes. Just as with the tempests, he can soothe magic that threatens to cascade beyond its boundaries. Though I believe he has little experience with anything outside of mine tempest magic.”
Iris’s thoughts drifted as they moved across the floor. “I’ve often wondered,” she said after several moments of quiet had passed between them, “why the Rowanwoods are called Rowanwoods if their magic is related to earth and minerals and crystals. It seems an odd name for a family whose power lies in the ground rather than in trees.”
He seemed surprised by the question. “You have a curious mind. Particularly when it comes to the Rowanwoods.”
“I’m interested in all the prominent families of Bloomhaven,” Iris assured him. “But perhaps because we’re at Rowanwood House tonight, my attention has naturally turned to its namesake.”
“That seems reasonable,” he conceded. “The Rowanwood family’s magic wasn’t always tied to earth and crystal,” he explained. “Originally, the family possessed magic connected to rowan trees, the mountain ash. They could communicate with them, accelerate their growth, shape their wood without tools. They served as forest wardens and protective charm crafters.
“What changed?” Iris asked, genuinely intrigued.
“There was a disease—the Ashen Decay—that ravaged the forests many generations ago,” Jasvian continued. “Most of the family devoted their resources to fighting it, working directly with infected trees. But one of the younger sons had manifested differently. While his siblings spoke with trees, he could sense what minerals lay beneath their roots.”
