Page 7 of Tempests & Tea Leaves (The Charmed Leaf Legacy #1)
Chapter Seven
Iris tried to keep her pace measured as she made her escape from the ballroom. She tried not to draw attention to herself—well, any more attention than the exploding chandelier had already brought. But then she caught part of a conversation:
“How fortunate they only have the one.”
“Indeed! One shudders to think of how much worse it would be were there a whole brood of them.”
“I dare say he recognized his mistake after the first.”
“Alas, too late by then …”
Iris took off through the crowd, no longer caring who she offended or what whispers followed in her wake. She heard her name being called—her mother’s voice, then her father’s—but she kept moving, her skirts rustling as she wove between clusters of fae nobility.
She finally burst free of the ballroom. The palace corridors stretched out before her, a maze of gilt and marble, but she kept moving. She had no idea where she was going, only that she needed to get away from the music, the judgment, the weight of a hundred stares. Her heels clicked against the polished floor as?—
“Iris!” Her father’s voice cracked like a whip. “Stop this instant.”
She halted, chest heaving, and turned to face her parents. Her mother looked distraught, while her father’s face had gone an alarming shade of red.
“Have you completely lost your senses?” he demanded. “Arguing with Lord Jasvian Rowanwood? In public? At your debut?”
“Did you hear what he said about me?” Iris’s voice shook. “About my magic being useless and my blood being?—”
“It doesn’t matter what he said!” Her father took a breath and straightened. “He is one of the most influential men in … well, not only Bloomhaven. The entire United Fae Isles. The heir to the Rowanwood fortune and lumyrite mines. And you … you …”
“Perhaps we should find somewhere more private,” her mother suggested quietly, glancing around. “There is a room just there.”
Iris allowed her mother to lead her into an elegant chamber dominated by a gleaming piano. Moonlight streamed through tall windows, casting silver patterns across the instrument’s polished surface.
“I won’t apologize,” Iris said as soon as the door closed behind them. “We should return home. We are clearly not wanted here, nor do we have any need of this company.”
Her father’s laugh was harsh. “Need? We most certainly do need them. You have no future—none of us do—if you do not secure a match this season.”
“That’s absurd. I don’t need someone, and even if I did, I can find such a person in my own town. Someone who doesn’t care about bloodlines or?—”
“And live like what?” her father burst out. “Like paupers?”
Iris blinked at him. “What are you talking about? What do you—” She shook her head, utterly confused. “What about the Starspun estate? Our family fortune?”
Her father’s shoulders sagged. “There is no fortune, Iris. There hasn’t been for years. No inheritance. No dowry. Nothing.”
“But …”
“There hasn’t been money in enchanted star charts for generations.” Her father raked a hand through his hair, his voice rising with a desperate edge. “And as for starlight spinning … the silks, the enchanted threads, all those magically potent materials that are so durable … they were once sought after by nobility and royalty everywhere, but that market died out generations ago. Newer enchantments made our craft obsolete. The Starspun name has become just that—a name, nothing more.”
Iris had known about the decline of their traditional craft, of course, but the revelation that their finances had deteriorated to absolute destitution left her momentarily speechless. “But … the country estate where Aunt Celandine?—”
“Is falling into ruin,” he cut in. “Your aunt and uncle maintain a skeleton staff—barely enough to keep the basic operations running. From what I understand, your uncle’s family has experienced severe financial hardship as well and cannot provide assistance from his side.”
“But … everyone speaks of the distinguished Starspun legacy …” Iris fumbled for words, her mind still reeling. Hadn’t the insufferable Lord Jasvian reminded her of her illustrious family history mere minutes ago?
“The Starspun legacy is indeed distinguished and respected,” her father said, “but there is no fortune that accompanies it anymore.”
“But surely Grandfather?—”
“Your grandparents chose to remain here in Bloomhaven precisely because maintaining the country estate became impossible. If things do not change very soon, they will have to let it go, as well as Starspun House here in Bloomhaven.”
“Starspun House as well?” Iris asked, her voice faint with disbelief. It wasn’t as though she’d ever pictured herself living as some wealthy heiress. She’d always assumed that her father, having defied his family by marrying a human woman, would inherit only a small portion of his parents’ estate. But she’d always believed she and her parents would at least remain comfortable.
“Yes.” Her father took a deep breath, as if he were steeling himself for something. He stepped closer, his tone becoming gentler. “So when your magic manifested, your grandparents invited us to return. They see it as an opportunity to restore our family’s standing. A chance to save us all from financial ruin.”
“But … what about Aunt Celandine and?—”
“She cannot have children,” Iris’s mother interrupted softly. “She represents the end of that branch of the family line.”
The full weight of this statement settled heavily upon Iris. “So I’m …”
“The only possible future for the Starspun bloodline,” her father confirmed quietly. “The only hope for all of us.”
“At … the cost of my happiness,” Iris said faintly, staring at the floor with unfocused eyes. “The cost of my freedom.”
“What happiness will you have when we are destitute?” her father asked, not unkindly. “What freedom? We are almost at the point where we cannot maintain even the most basic of appearances. We are drowning in debt, Iris. The compensation for the bookshop alone …”
Iris flinched as her father trailed off. The memory of that day still haunted her. “I’m so sorry about that. If I had known what was happening, if I had been able to control it?—”
“No, I apologize, I should not have brought that up,” her father said wearily. “The bookshop was only part of it. I’ve been borrowing for years, trying to maintain some semblance of our position, hoping …” He shook his head. “But now our creditors are losing patience. If we return home without securing your future here, we’ll lose what little we have left.”
Iris sank onto the piano bench, her mind whirling. “So this is why you brought me to Bloomhaven? Strengthening my magic has nothing to do with it. Our sole purpose here is to find someone wealthy for me to marry?”
“Your magic manifesting was a gift,” her mother said, stepping closer, “and of course we wish for it to strengthen, both for your sake and for the opportunity it represents. You have given us hope , Iris.” She sat beside Iris on the piano bench and took her hand. “A half-fae with magical ability might be acceptable to the right family, especially one looking to secure connections to the Starspun name—which still carries weight, even if there’s nothing material behind it anymore.”
“Even if that bloodline has been diluted ?” The words tasted bitter on her tongue.
“Iris—”
“And now I’ve ruined everything by antagonizing the wealthiest bachelor in Bloomhaven with all of fae society watching.” She laughed, but there was no humor in it. “How terribly inconvenient of me.”
“We should have told you sooner, but we didn’t want to burden you with this responsibility. We thought … we hoped …”
“That I would manifest some useful ability that might save us somehow? That at the very least I would be a good daughter and secure us all a comfortable future?” Iris stood, unable to bear her mother’s gentle touch. The weight of it all pressed down on her—her family’s desperate circumstances, her own part in their financial ruin, the impossible task before her. “I … I need to …”
She didn’t know what she needed to do. Not apologize to Lord Jasvian Rowanwood, that was certain enough. She could apologize to her parents though.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “Had I known how important this evening was …” She trailed off. It would have been difficult not to engage with Lord Jasvian after what she’d overheard, but perhaps she could have bitten her tongue, greeted him politely, and sought an excuse to leave. But what was done could not be undone. She must now compose herself with what little dignity remained and navigate her newfound circumstances.
She drew in a deep breath and straightened her shoulders. “I shall do better,” she said, meeting her parents’ worried gazes. “I’ll mind my tongue in proper society and … attempt to make favorable impressions upon suitable gentlemen.” The words felt dry in her throat, but she forced them out with all the conviction she could muster.
Her parents’ expressions softened with visible relief, and her mother squeezed her hand gratefully. But as they prepared to leave Solstice Hall—it would be unthinkable to return to the ballroom now, so soon after her dramatic confrontation with Lord Jasvian—Iris’s mind was already turning over possibilities like pages in a book. There had to be another answer. Another path. Whatever it was, she would find it. Somehow, she would save her family without sacrificing her independence.