CH.17 The engagement ball
Iris looked in the mirror. The dress the queen had given her was beautiful, light blue brocade embroidered with silver threads and pearls, but somehow she didn't feel like herself in it. As if she were looking at a stranger.
"I must admit that you are beautiful, my dear, but I have a more suitable dress for you for tonight." He spread it out on the bed. "They were made exactly according to your drawing, which I secretly stole..."
She carefully examined the dress he had brought her.
It looked exactly like the design she had drawn, even better.
It was made of fabric as delicate as spiderweb.
She had never held such soft fabric in her hands in her life, as if it were not of this world.
The yellow faded to orange and darkened to black.
Her eyes lit up as she looked at it. She had to try it on immediately.
"Can you help me get out of these?"
Luc didn't even bother with gentleness. He took a dagger and cut off the dress from her.
He cut the corset binding and freed her from its grip.
She put on the dress he had brought her.
The slits at the waist exposed her bare skin.
They were lined with gold ornaments that formed a kind of corset.
They supported her breasts, stretched to her neck, shoulders, and down her arms. It was real metal, gold. Real gems were set in it.
"Who made them? Where did you get them?"
"There is nothing in my world that I cannot give you, Iris."
She walked towards him, slits on either side revealing her legs. Iris gave him a questioning look.
"I don't remember this in my design."
"I admit I made some minor changes." A mischievous smile graced his lips.
"The royal court will be outraged by so much bare skin." She gracefully ran her fingertips along her knee, up her thigh to her hips.
Luc kissed the back of her hand. He didn't take his bewitching, golden gaze off her.
He pressed her to his chest. His hand wandered along the slit of the dress, his fingertips gently caressing her skin.
He grabbed her below the knee and lifted her into his arms. She let out a soft moan at the sudden movement.
"Then let them be outraged," he said.
?
The ball was already in full swing. It was being held in the palace gardens.
Multi-colored lanterns cut the night with rainbow streams of light.
A breeze whispered in the treetops. The flickering leaves made dancing shadows.
Prince Edmund and Anastasia danced amidst a crowd, writhing to the rhythm of cheerful music.
They were celebrating their engagement. Noble lords and ladies from all over the kingdom had arrived. But one person was missing.
"Your stepdaughter is late again, Madam Tremaine," the queen remarked.
"It's a bad habit I couldn't break," said the stepmother.
As if on cue, Iris appeared on the terrace.
All the celebrants turned their eyes to her.
They were in silent amazement. The provocative dress revealed her slender curves.
Her hair was pulled back, revealing her graceful neck.
She walked down the stairs with a majestic stride, hanging onto Luc, who was dressed in a matching suit with gold ornaments.
They made their way to the middle of the dance floor.
They ignored Prince Edmund and Anastasia, who were looking at them in shock. Everyone was focused only on them.
"Will you give me your first dance, dear Iris?" Luc, like a true gentleman, kissed the back of her hand.
"I am only yours."
He pressed her to his chest. They walked to the rhythm of the music that wasn't playing. They stopped. Luc looked at the silent musicians.
"Why aren't you playing? This is supposed to be a celebration. Let's have fun!"
He waved his hand, and it was as if strands of his power wrapped themselves around their bodies, forcing them to do his will.
The first notes of a sweet melody sounded.
He turned his golden gaze back to Iris, and in unison, they stepped into the dance.
The prince and his bride stepped out of their way. Indignant whispers filled the air.
"Such a disrespect," they said. "And that dress. Like a whore from a brothel ."
Iris only smiled at their outrage. She liked to offend. She liked to evoke such strong emotions in people, even if it was disgust. She didn't want to be just a ghost walking the world while still alive.
"You are offending the people, my queen." Luc grinned.
"We offend them, dear Luc." She smiled back at him.
"I like it when you call me that," he whispered in her ear.
"How? Dear, my dearest Luc?"
He spun her around and pulled her back against his chest. He felt her heart pound, her breath fast. He inhaled the scent of her skin. She smelled exactly as her name said, of irises and the magic coursing through her veins. So powerful and untamed.
"Repeat that."
"My dearest Luc."
"That girl has just crossed all boundaries," said the indignant king.
"She was given a beautiful dress to wear today. I taught her how to behave as a young lady at a ball. As if she would mock us," said the queen.
"I apologize deeply, Your Majesties," said the stepmother. "I don't know what got into that ungrateful girl. I tried to re-educate her, but her father gave her too much freedom." She was ashamed in front of the king and queen. "This is too much. I will correct it immediately."
"Wait!" the king stopped her steps. "We don't want any commotion tonight. Not until after the ball."
"Exactly. Tonight is about the engagement of our son to your daughter. We will not give her the attention she obviously craves," the queen said.
"Yes, Your Majesty," said the stepmother.
"And who is the young man she came with?" asked the king.
"I don't know, Your Majesty," replied Madam Tremaine. "Iris always had a thing for chasing boys. She would come home late at night or just before dawn. She must have brought some suitor from the city."
"He looks more like a lord in that outfit than a peasant," the queen remarked.
"The only good quality of my stepdaughter. She can make even a poor man look like a prince."
"Partner swap?" Prince Edmund stood between Iris and Luc.
The demon gave him a hostile look. He was definitely not interested in an exchange.
"I'm happy with my partner. I won't rob you of yours."
"Just one dance, then I'll give her back to you."
Luc hesitated. His possessive instinct, which was greedily claiming her, advised him not to let her go, but in the end, he did. He believed that he no longer had any power over her heart.
"I guess I can let her out of sight for a moment." He involuntarily left Iris in the prince's arms and he stepped out to dance with Anastasia.
Iris set her face stone. Her heart icy cold. But the indifference in her eyes was fragile.
"Is this supposed to be revenge?" Prince Edmund asked Iris.
"Revenge for what?" she gave him a questioning look.
"For what happened between us in the library," he replied. "Do you want my attention?"
Iris laughed. "You're taking on too much weight in my life, Your Highness," she told him. "You weren't my first and you certainly won't be my last. It was just fun and pleasure. No more no less."
Something like pain reflected in his eyes. That she would hurt his pride?
"And who is the man you came with today?" he asked.
"Why? I suppose you're not jealous, Your Highness?"
Her words surprised him. He couldn't hide it. "No!" Even his voice betrayed him.
"You're engaged. You shouldn't be," Iris said with a mischievous smile on her lips.
"And are you jealous?" he now surprised her. "I see your gaze keeps drifting to them."
She kept glancing at Anastasia and Luc out of the corner of her eye. She was afraid of the spell she had sewn into her dress. Luc was the only one she had left. She didn't want to lose him too. Her stomach clenched at the thought of him leaving her.
Their eyes met. He smiled at her. She smiled back. He was still hers.
"I have no reason to be jealous. Of Anastasia? Never."
"I definitely believe you." The prince grinned.
Iris saw the courtiers look at Anastasia, the magic shining in their eyes. What had once been hatred and revulsion had turned into love and admiration. The talent that had once brought Iris joy now cursed her.
"What happened to your lovely face, Your Highness?" she turned her attention back to him. "Did someone beat the charm out of it?"
The smile fell from his lips. His eyes darkened.
"I fell off my horse," he said.
And she definitely believed him.
"I take my partner back, Your Highness." Luc tore Iris away from the prince, giving him no choice. "I have already had my toes trampled by your bride."
Iris couldn't help but laugh. She couldn't stop a smile from spreading across her lips.
"A smile suits you better than that sour face," he told her as he pulled her away.
"Now that you're with me again, yes."
"Am I so important to you that you can't smile without me, my little witch?"
"And me for you?"
"You are my whole world."
"Tell me the truth, Luc, are you breaking the rules for me?"
"Why do you think that, my dear?"
"Prince Edmund says he fell off his horse, but I definitely don't believe that story. When you fall off a horse, you'll probably break your arm and your ribs will hurt, but your face won't look like after a battle."
"Maybe it kicked him in the face." He smiled innocently, his eyes sparkling maliciously.
"And I forgot to mention that you had blood on your hands three days ago."
"I admit it. But I'm only defending what's mine."
He turned her around and pulled her back to his chest. He kissed her neck.
"You are mine, Iris."
"How come the enchantment in Anastasia's dress doesn't work on you?" she asked him with interest.
Luc sighed. "So many questions all the time."
"I have many more, but I don't want to overwhelm you with them."
"I am a demon. You cannot bewitch me," he said.
"And you can do me? You've obviously charmed those musicians."
"It's mutual. I can't you and you can't me. The only magic between us is our bond. Our power mixes and combines because of it," he reminded her, the all-knowing eye adorning their palms.
"Can you really always find me with this?"
"Always."
"Then let's try it."
She ran into the maze made of hedges. She ran into the winding alleys. When she looked over her shoulder, Luc wasn't chasing her. He was watching her disappear into the depths of the labyrinth. He was giving her a head start to escape.
Iris ran through the winding corridors, looking for a way through. She turned right, left. Thick branches led her forward. She hit a dead end. She had to turn around and find a new path. Something rustled in the living walls of the maze. She took notice. She alerted all her senses.
"Luc!" she called out into the void.
Her answer was only silence. Dancing flames cut through the darkness of the night.
They cast flickering shadows. The winding corridors of the maze led Iris to its very center.
A large apple tree grew there. Its green branches were heavy with ripening apples.
A stone bench hugged the trunk. She sat on it and waited.
Her gaze ran from all four entrances that led to the center of the labyrinth.
"We'll see how long it takes you to find me," she spoke to the eye on her palm, and it blinked in response.
It didn't take long before she heard footsteps approaching.
"It took you quite a while," she said.
She turned to him, but it wasn't him she found. Anastasia swung her sword at her. Iris barely dodged. She fell to the ground. The tip of the blade passed right in front of her eyes. The sword cut into the trunk of a tree.
"Stop it, Anastasia!" her mother scolded her. "We only want to scare her, not kill her. Who would make your wedding dress then?"
"I won't sew anything for you anymore," Iris retorted bravely, but her heart was beating wildly as if it wanted to escape from her chest.
"You have no choice," her stepmother told her.
"The spell sewn into the dress is up to me," Iris said. "I could turn Anastasia into a frog, for example. I've heard that frog legs are supposedly a delicacy."
The stepmother pulled a sword from the tree and pointed it at Iris, who was sitting on the ground. She pressed the tip to her neck. Iris was not intimidated. Her face reflected resistance and defiance. This time she would not back down, she would not give in. Not again.
"Don't be impudent, Iris. Your life is in my hands. One word and you and your rebel friends will end up on the gallows. I hold all the aces in my hands," said the stepmother.
"Do you really think that?" Iris laughed.
"Ever since my father brought you home, I've been nice to you, while you've treated me like scum.
I've fulfilled your every wish. It's never been enough for you.
Nothing has been able to fill that bottomless void inside you.
And I've had enough of your orders. I won't be your puppet any longer. "
"You have no choice!"
"I always have a choice. If I fall, you fall with me. I think the king would certainly like to hear the story of how you bewitched the prince to gain the crown."
"How dare you?" Madam Tremaine shrieked in horror.
Her words turned her anger into fury. She trembled with anger. She pressed the blade even harder against her throat, feeling it gently cut through the skin.
"She won't do that, will she, Mom?" Anastasia panicked. "If she tells, we'll be burned for witchcraft."
"She won't reveal anything if we silence her."
Iris saw his golden eyes hiding in the shadows.
He was there. He saw her. He had been watching them the whole time.
And he was silent. He just stood there and did nothing.
He didn't protect her. He had abandoned her.
Iris grabbed the blade of the sword, felt it cutting into her palm.
Blood dripped onto the green grass. Not for a moment did she show fear, more like a perverse pleasure from the pain coursing through her body.
So well known. So intimate. She stared intently at her stepmother and stepsister.
Something was broken in her gaze, as if she had resigned.
"If you have the courage, do it!"
She had nothing left to lose.
The stepmother was startled. Her desire for the sword blade surprised her. She snatched it from her hand. She opened the wound and let the blood flow freely.
"I will not stain my hands with your blood," she told her. "But don't think I am incapable of it."
"But Mom! What if he reveals everything?"
"She won't do it," she was certain. "She won't risk her own neck."
She gave Iris a disdainful look. A stepmother would always be a stepmother. She had never had a place in her heart.
"Run, Iris! Run and never come back. I never want to see you again. And if I ever see you again, your blood will flow."
Iris didn't hesitate for a moment. She stood up and ran away.
Her heart was beating wildly. Every beat echoed through her entire body.
Her breath was trembling. She ran through the maze.
A mysterious voice led her out of the living corridors that wanted to swallow her up.
She ran through the crowd of celebrants back to the palace.
Commander Dominic stopped her on the terrace.
"What happened?"
"I have to get out of here," she said.
He noticed her cut palm. Blood ran down her skin, dripping onto the pavement. "You're hurt."
"It's nothing. I need a horse to get away. Will you help me?"
The commander nodded.
When Iris slammed the door to her room, Luc finally appeared.
"Have you decided to give up?"
"You saw what happened. I have to go."
"You don't have to do anything you don't want."
"What do you want from me, Luc? I don't understand you at all. One minute you're breaking the rules for me, and the next you'd happily let my stepmother slit my throat. What do you want? Make up your mind!"
He opened his mouth to say something, but she silenced him with a gesture of her hand.
"Don't answer. I don't want to hear your evasive words. All I need now is a few days of peace."
She packed her most important things and her clothes. She threw her red velvet cloak over her shoulders. The commander was waiting for her outside with a saddled horse.
"Are you really okay, Miss Iris?" he asked.
"I guess one day I will," she replied.
She spurred her horse and set off into thenight. The wind blew in her hair. She raced into the forest and got lost in itsdarkness.