Page 12 of Tempests & Tea Leaves (The Charmed Leaf Legacy #1)

Chapter Twelve

“Here we are!” Charlotte announced as the three girls approached The Petal & Pearl. The enchanted cosmetics shop was nestled between two larger shops on one of Bloomhaven’s winding side streets, its facade adorned with delicate climbing roses and its petite display window featuring an arrangement of crystal bottles in various jewel tones.

A small bell tinkled pleasantly as they stepped inside, and Iris’s senses were immediately enveloped by the intoxicating blend of dozens of different fragrances. The interior was bathed in a soft, rosy light that illuminated displays of elegantly packaged cosmetics arranged on wooden shelves and glass-topped tables.

“Oh, look at these!” Lucie exclaimed, darting toward a collection of little silver-lidded pots. “The new Dewdrop Lip Stains! They’ve added three more shades since we were last here.”

Iris followed, removing her gloves as her gaze swept across the shop. She’d visited similar establishments back home, of course, but nothing quite so magical. Here, mirrors whispered compliments as patrons gazed into them, brushes floated gently to demonstrate the perfect application technique, and the contents of certain containers changed color to complement the complexion of whoever touched them.

The three girls placed their gloves on the silver tray that sat on a small table near the entrance to the shop, before Charlotte linked her arm through Iris’s and guided her toward a display of shimmering powders. “These are The Petal & Pearl’s signature creations—Wingshine and Dandelion Dust. Even the High Lady herself is said to wear them.”

“They’re beautiful,” Iris murmured.

“Try this one,” Charlotte suggested, lifting a small jar filled with a pale golden powder. “The color is Sunbeam Honey. Perfect for your complexion.”

Iris hesitated, then dipped her finger into the jar. The powder felt cool against her skin, almost like water rather than a dry substance. She approached one of the ornate mirrors mounted on the wall before dabbing it gently onto her cheekbone. The powder seemed to melt into her skin, leaving behind a subtle golden glow that caught the light with every turn of her head. “Oh!” she breathed, leaning closer to the mirror. “It’s lovely.”

“Isn’t it?” Charlotte beamed, already reaching for another jar. “Now try the Foxglove Kiss—it’s a lip stain that changes according to your mood.”

The next several minutes passed in a flurry of giggles and exclamations as the three young women sampled various magical cosmetics. Iris allowed Lucie to apply a smoky eye kohl that made her dark eyes look larger and more mysterious, somehow accentuating their graceful slant, while Charlotte tried a variety of dramatic lip stains.

“I feel like an entirely different person,” Iris admitted, turning her head from side to side to admire the transformation in the mirror. Her features were enhanced in ways that highlighted her fae heritage while softening the aspects that might be considered too human.

“You look absolutely enchanting,” the mirror assured her in a silky voice. “The starlight in your eyes is positively luminous.”

Iris clapped a hand over her mouth before giggling. “Do the mirrors know I’m of the Starspun family?” she whispered to Charlotte

Charlotte shrugged and laughed. “They’re charmed to be effusive with their compliments, though. Good for business, I imagine.”

“Though in your case,” Lucie added, “I believe it’s being entirely truthful.”

Iris smiled, a warmth spreading through her chest that had nothing to do with the cosmetics. After days of feeling scrutinized and judged, the simple pleasure of trying on magical makeup with two girls who seemed to genuinely enjoy her company felt like the purest form of freedom.

“Your turn, Lucie,” Iris insisted, picking up a jar of shimmering purple-blue kohl. “This shade would look spectacular on you.”

As Iris carefully applied the pigment to Lucie’s eyelids, she noticed a group of young fae ladies enter the shop, their silk gowns rustling as they moved between the displays. They were perfectly attired for an afternoon of shopping, with elaborate hairstyles and the subtle magical enhancements that marked them as members of elite fae society.

One of them, a slender girl with a rose-gold circlet nestled in her blue curls, looked in their direction and whispered something to her companions. Muffled laughter followed, along with a poorly concealed glance of disdain that swept over Iris, Charlotte, and Lucie in quick succession.

Iris stiffened, but Charlotte merely rolled her eyes. “Ignore them,” she whispered. “Bloomhaven’s finest young ladies, demonstrating their impeccable breeding through pointed stares and whispered insults. How original.”

Iris managed a smile, though she couldn’t help noticing how the group continued to watch them.

“Is that a human applying cosmetics to another human?” one of them said, her voice carrying deliberately. “How quaint. I suppose they haven’t realized some enhancements simply cannot overcome certain … limitations.”

“And in the company of a half-breed, no less,” another added with feigned horror. “Though I’m not sure who’s lowering themselves more by the association.”

Iris felt her cheeks flush, but Charlotte straightened her shoulders and spoke without turning around. “How fortunate we are to be reminded that magical cosmetics cannot disguise a complete absence of manners or basic decency.”

Iris bit her lip to suppress a laugh, then spotted a stack of delicate paper pamphlets on the corner of a nearby table—each one detailing various magical products and their proper application. She reached out with her magic, feeling that familiar awareness of all the ways the paper wanted to fold. One pamphlet separated itself from the stack and floated toward her, creasing itself rapidly along invisible lines.

Within seconds, a beautifully crafted paper fan took shape. It drifted to hover before Iris, then began to wave itself back and forth, creating a soft breeze that caressed her face. “How charming,” she said with exaggerated sweetness, angling herself so that the fan partially concealed her face. Then she caught her own reflection in the mirror—cheeks delicately flushed, eyes dramatically enhanced, paper fan fluttering coquettishly—and burst into laughter at the ridiculousness of it all. “I must look absolutely absurd,” she said, still giggling.

“Absurdly beautiful,” Lucie corrected, her own laughter joining Iris’s.

“The fan is a particularly nice touch,” Charlotte added. “Very dramatic.”

As their laughter subsided, Iris noticed one of the fae girls staring at them with undisguised hostility. “Who is that?” Iris asked quietly, inclining her head slightly toward the glaring girl. “The one with the golden hair. She seems particularly cold.”

Charlotte glanced over, then quickly returned her attention to the mirror. “Mariselle Brightcrest,” she replied in a low voice. “Youngest Brightcrest daughter. Honestly, the entire family is awful.”

“Brightcrest,” Iris repeated, a memory stirring. “I believe I encountered a Lady Brightcrest shortly after my family arrived in Bloomhaven. She greeted my father outside the tea house. Though ‘greeted’ might be too generous a term.”

“Probably Lady Clemenbell, Mariselle’s mother,” Charlotte said. “Your father would know her from when he used to come to Bloomhaven every Season. Before—” She cut herself off with a cough, darting a quick glance in Lucie’s direction. “Be that as it may,” she continued, “the Brightcrests and the Rowanwoods have been feuding for generations.”

“Indeed, Lady Rivenna cannot stand them,” Lucie added. “Something about a business venture gone wrong decades ago? Though I’m sure it must have been more than that. And now that you’re her apprentice …”

“I suppose that makes me doubly objectionable in their eyes,” Iris concluded.

“Triple, if we’re counting,” Charlotte said with a wry smile. “Half-human, Lady Rivenna’s apprentice, and now fraternizing with two entirely human girls in public. How utterly scandalous.”

Despite her discomfort, Iris told herself not to be affected by these fae ladies and their hostile glances and comments. For the first time since arriving in Bloomhaven, she had begun to feel the first hints of genuine belonging, even if it was only in the company of two human sisters and a shop full of magical cosmetics. “Let them stare,” she declared, lifting the magical fan to cool her flushed cheeks. “I’m having far too much fun to be bothered.”

“That’s the spirit,” Charlotte agreed. “Now, shall we try the Dappleberry Balm? It gives you freckles in whatever shade perfectly compliments your natural complexion.”

“Oh yes, let’s!” Lucie reached for a small crystal pot containing a pearlescent substance. “It always gives me golden freckles, and they’re simply delightful.”

“What about this?” Iris picked up a small obsidian jar nestled among other jars in a basket.

Charlotte peered over her shoulder at the label. “Midnight Veil. ‘A mysterious kohl that deepens the gaze and enhances one’s natural perception of magical auras.’ Oh, I believe I’ve heard of that one. Some ladies refuse to use it. They say the main ingredient is imported from the realm of the dark elves.”

“I must point out that they are simply called ‘elves,’” Iris remarked.

“The entire notion is ridiculous, whether they’re called elves or dark elves,” Lucie said, lifting the jar to examine it more closely, “We cannot even be certain elves exist at all.”

Iris’s laugh caught in her throat. “Are you …” She trailed off, realizing Lucie was serious. “You doubt their existence?”

Lucie regarded her with evident skepticism. “Have you yourself ever met one?”

“Well, no,” Iris admitted. “But I’ve read numerous scholarly works concerning them. My former home had a university with a most extensive library, volumes on every subject imaginable. There were entire volumes dedicated to elven culture and magic.”

“And these learned authors—had they seen elves?” Charlotte asked, her lips twitching with amusement.

“I … well …” Iris faltered. “I’m not certain, but the documentation was most thorough. Detailed illustrations, accounts from historical sources?—”

“So there exists no true evidence,” Lucie concluded, now visibly suppressing a smile.

“That reasoning would suggest the High Lady herself doesn’t exist merely because you’ve never had tea with her,” Iris countered, though she could not maintain her serious expression.

Lucie tapped her chin thoughtfully. “I don’t believe I’ve ever actually seen the High Lady.”

Iris was laughing now. “Very well. Perhaps I shall arrange an expedition to that distant continent and return with an elf as proof. Then I shall invite both you and the High Lady to tea. Would that satisfy your skepticism?”

“Only if you persuade them both to wear Midnight Veil kohl,” Charlotte replied solemnly before all three of them dissolved into giggles once more, Iris’s paper fan fluttering animatedly beside them.

The shop’s bell tinkled again as the door opened, and Iris glanced up reflexively. She froze, her fan stuttering in mid-air before dropping a few inches. “Mother?”

“There you are!” The silver bell chimed again as Matilda Starspun swept into the shop, dressed in a gown of dove-gray silk embroidered with tiny silver flowers. “I went to the tea house, but Lady Rivenna said I would find you here. I informed her you wouldn’t be returning today. Your grandmother requires your presence at the Whispermist garden party. We were supposed to leave twenty minutes ago.”

Iris’s stomach dropped. She’d completely forgotten about Lady Lycilla Whispermist’s afternoon garden party—a small and carefully curated affair Iris’s grandmother had insisted was an honor to be included in. “I’m so sorry,” she began, “I was just?—”

Her mother’s gaze swept over the scene—the open jars of cosmetics, the shimmering powders dusting the glass counter, the two human girls at Iris’s side. Her lips pressed into a thin line, and she lifted a gloved hand to her temple, as if warding off a headache. “There isn’t much time,” she said briskly, lowering her hand. “You’ll need to return home at once to wash that off and change into something more suitable.”

“I know, I’m sorry. I forgot about?—”

“You can’t afford to forget things like this, Iris,” she continued in a low tone, stepping closer. “Your father and I supported the tea house apprenticeship because Lady Rivenna’s patronage could be valuable, but finding a suitable match must remain your priority.”

Iris fought back a fresh wave of frustration. As if she could forget for one moment the pressure to secure their future through marriage. “Yes, Mother. Just let me tidy up?—”

“Oh!” Charlotte stepped forward, setting down the jar of Midnight Veil kohl. “Don’t worry. Lucie and I will ensure that all is left as we found it upon our arrival.”

“Thank you,” Iris said, grateful for her friend’s help. “Mother, may I present Miss Charlotte Fields and Miss Lucie Fields. Charlotte, Lucie, this is my mother, Matilda Starspun.”

Her mother’s lips parted, then closed again, a half-formed word dissolving into silence. An odd expression flickered across her face, but it was gone too quickly for Iris to decipher it. “Fields,” her mother said carefully. She cleared her throat and added, “It’s a pleasure to meet you both.”

The sisters curtseyed, but Iris noticed that neither of them would meet her mother’s eyes. “My lady,” Charlotte said quietly.

The air in the shop felt suddenly heavier, charged with something Iris couldn’t name. Her mother’s fingers worried at the edge of her glove—a nervous gesture Iris had rarely seen. Charlotte and Lucie remained perfectly poised, but their former warmth had been replaced by a careful neutrality.

Iris’s gaze darted between the three of them, and understanding dawned. They knew each other. Or knew of each other. The certainty settled in her chest, though she couldn’t begin to guess how or why. If it had only been Charlotte and Lucie’s reaction, Iris might have dismissed it as natural curiosity about another human woman who’d married into fae society. But her mother’s response suggested something deeper, something personal.

“Is everything all right?” Iris ventured.

“Of course, darling!” Her mother’s voice was too bright, her smile too wide. “We really must hurry though.”

Charlotte merely nodded, her eyes fixed on some point near the hem of Iris’s mother’s dress. “It was lovely to meet you, my lady.”

The silence that followed felt heavy with words unsaid, until the fae woman who had occupied the space behind the counter suddenly appeared at their side, breaking the strange tension. “Would you like me to wrap anything for you today, Lady Starspun?”

“No, thank you, we really must go,” Iris’s mother said, her voice slightly too high as she answered for Iris.

“O-of course,” Iris stammered, her mind still racing to make sense of the strange undercurrents in the room. She glanced at her new friends, noticing how they all seemed to be carefully avoiding her gaze. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Yes,” Lucie said. Her smile returned, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes. Both she and Charlotte were watching Iris’s mother once again, curious expressions on their faces.

Iris stepped past them and followed her mother toward the door, pausing just long enough to snatch up her gloves from the silver tray where she had left them. Then she stepped into the bright afternoon sun, pulling her gloves back on, her mind filled with questions she didn’t know how to ask.