Page 82 of Tempests & Tea Leaves
“Well … the staircase does not continue,” Iris pointed out. “And from the outside of the tea house, it appears that there are only?—”
“In the case of The Charmed Leaf,” Rivenna said, “appearances are rarely what they seem. You, of all people, should understand that what’s visible on the outside rarely reflects the true nature of what lies within.”
Iris merely blinked at that, her gaze moving uncertainly between Rivenna and Jasvian.
“Grandmother, do you require any assistance with the arrangements upstairs?” Jasvian inquired politely, still refusing to meet Iris’s gaze.
“Do I look incapable of managing a few simple spells?” Rivenna huffed. “I’ve been rearranging furniture with magic since before you were born, Jasvian.”
Jasvian sighed before inclining his head. “Then I bid you both good night.”
As he turned to leave, his gaze finally met Iris’s, and for the briefest moment, she glimpsed that same vulnerability, that same longing, before his expression smoothed once more into careful neutrality.
“Good night, Lord Jasvian,” she said softly.
Lady Rivenna watched her grandson go, an inscrutable expression on her face. Then she turned to Iris. “Come, my dear. We shall see to this mess in the morning.”
Chapter Twenty-Nine
In the daysfollowing the incident in the study, Iris saw so little of Jasvian that she began to wonder if he was deliberately avoiding her. Lady Rivenna kept her constantly occupied, shadowing Mrs Spindlewood one day, observing Lissian at her tea brewing station the next, and in every spare moment, working to perfect her paper-folding display for the Solstice Ball. She approached these new attempts with careful restraint, mindful of her limitations after that night’s spectacular and painful failure. When she did find time to work in the study upstairs, Jasvian was either absent or already on his way out, and even the written correspondence that had become their daily ritual had inexplicably ceased.
She wanted to ask him if he regretted that moment between them—his fingers tracing gentle patterns on her skin, his eyes holding hers with such undisguised longing that it had stolen her breath. But each time she contemplated penning such an inquiry, her courage failed her. For someone who prided herself on directness, who had boldly confronted him that very first night at the Opening Ball, this newfound hesitancy was both foreign and frustrating.
The truth was, she feared his answer. Feared that he might confirm what she increasingly suspected: that upon reflection, Lord Jasvian Rowanwood had decided a half-human apprentice with unpredictable magic was simply not worth the complications.
Although … she’d had a most curious conversation with Lucie not long after the incident in the study, during which Lucie had recounted, with evident bewilderment, how Jasvian had actuallyapologizedto her for his long-held prejudices about humans in fae society. Perhaps, then, Jasvian’s distance had nothing to do with Iris’s heritage at all. Perhaps it was simply that he wasn’t interested inher.
So when Rosavyn and Charlotte mentioned the Stardust Night Market’s imminent arrival in Bloomhaven, Iris found herself eager for an evening filled with new sights and experiences, far from the tea house and its memories. Her grandparents had agreed to the outing—her grandmother seeming particularly keen now that she had fully recovered from the illness that had kept her from attending the masquerade and several other engagements. Iris suspected this enthusiasm had less to do with her grandmother’s desire to socialize and more to do with potential encounters with families who had eligible sons.
Whatever her grandmother’s true motives, Iris felt a thrill of genuine excitement as she approached Elderbloom Park with her grandparents in the gathering dusk. The Stardust Night Market, which arrived in Bloomhaven once a year, had transformed the far side of the park into a wonderland of magical light and impossible wares. On the wide stone bridge that spanned the Silverflow River, floating lanterns in jewel-toned shades drifted through the evening air, following browsing patrons like curious spirits. The market began on the bridge itself and extended into the eastern corner of the park, where ancient trees were festooned with twinkling faelights.
Stepping onto the bridge amidst this enchanting display, Iris gathered the folds of her fine silk shawl closer as the evening air grew cool. Her grandmother tucked Iris’s arm securely through her own, ready to navigate the scene. With the Summer Solstice Grand Ball approaching, Iris could sense her grandparents’ anxiety mounting. Despite all their careful maneuvering—and Iris’s polite engagement with any gentleman showing interest at the Season’s event—not a single fae lord had yet declared himself in earnest or sought to court her with serious intent. Even Lord Hadrian, after coming to call one afternoon, had since made himself quite scarce, despite appearing to have greatly enjoyed her company.
Iris was secretly relieved, still clinging to the hope that she might yet secure her family’s future through her connection to The Charmed Leaf Tea House rather than through marriage. If only the Starspuns could endure a few more years—long enough for her to establish herself there. Long enough for Lady Rivenna to determine the time had come to relinquish control and ownership of the tea house entirely into Iris’s hands.
Though, at the rate Lady Rivenna was going, Iris herself might be wizened and silver-tressed before that happened. The woman possessed an energy that defied reason, as if she had bargained for endless vitality itself and was utterly undeterred by the passage of time.
Which meant, Iris thought as she spotted Charlotte and Rosavyn waving to her, that she would have to face the truth she had been resisting all Bloom Season: she might, in the end, have no choice but to marry.
And, to her dismay, the notion was notentirelyunappealing when she allowed herself to consider a certain sharp-edged-yet-softening fae lord. Jasvian’s touch had awakened something she had been determined to deny—a longing not just for connection, but for this specific connection. It terrified her how easily shecould imagine surrendering her hard-won independence for moments like the one they had shared in the study. Was this how it began for her mother? Small surrenders that eventually amounted to a complete loss of self?
Your mother’s experience is ONE story, the notebook had said,not THE story.
But these thoughts were pointless, Iris reminded herself, when the man clearly possessed no interest in?—
“Iris!” Rosavyn called as she and Charlotte hurried over. “Lord and Lady Starspun, how delightful to see you this evening.” Both she and Charlotte offered perfect curtsies to Iris’s grandparents. “We were just admiring the Calverwick Candies stall,” she added. “They make the most extraordinary color-shifting spun sugar that supposedly tastes like your fondest memory. Might we steal Iris away to show her?”
Iris turned to her grandmother with hopeful eyes. “Would you mind terribly if I joined them for a while?”
Her grandmother’s lips pressed into a thin line of disapproval. Then she sighed, her gaze moving from Rosavyn to Charlotte before returning to Iris. “Very well,” she relented with evident reluctance. “You may go, but I expect you to behave with absolute propriety. I do not wish to hear tales of any nonsense.”
“Nonsense?” Iris protested, unable to keep a note of indignation from her voice. “Have I not been perfectly behaved these past weeks?”
“Indeed you have,” her grandmother acknowledged with the barest hint of a smile. “Which is precisely why I am allowing this liberty. Now, off you go and enjoy yourselves. Be sure to meet us back here on the bridge at the closing chimes.”
Iris’s expression softened. “Thank you, Grandmother.” She offered her grandparents a respectful nod before turning to her friends, unable to entirely suppress the eagerness in her step asthey turned toward the heart of the market, her grandparents proceeding in a different direction.
“Isn’t it magnificent?” Rosavyn exclaimed, looping her arm through Iris’s. “Look at those orbs over there. When held in your palm, they reveal glimpses of the stars as seen from the most distant corners of the United Fae Isles.”
