For the week, Iris recovered. And they spent time around Hecate and Ianthe. Most of their time was spent on working out the ugly flying construct. Both Ianthe and Hecate were engrossed in coming up with ideas.
After one week, they managed to transform it into a room with windows and curtains—blue and white. Iris had to spend a long time changing the colour of the orbs, but they managed—no, she managed. Ianthe and Hecate spent most of their time pointing out how she should make it better. They scrapped her dry—and today, on the seventh day—her flying construct was complete.
A boxy room, in white and blue, because they make her feel at peace. The flooring was as soft as Diantha’s bed. Not as warm—nothing could be.
“Woo-hoo!” Hecate screamed and jumped on the bed. “This is the best!”
“You’re a genius, Iris,” Iantha said as she flopped on it.
Iris was, of course, not at all flying from the praise. She was mature; praises were nothing special for a genius like her. Maybe a little—Her lips were twitching and wrestling her to curve up. They, of course, failed against the mightiest will of the Lightning Lord.
“With this, my travel place is ready,” Iris said. Tomorrow, she will leave. Ilona had informed her last night that the map would arrive tomorrow. The past week went by too fast. Her heart tightened at the thought of leaving. Her throat felt heavy; she would’ve appreciated—if the time had gone slower. She wanted to stay with them a bit longer.
Iris shook her head, attachments. She would be better without them. “Iris!”
She was, again, lost in her mind. At least, Hecate no longer screamed in her head. “S-sorry. I will go and see if the map is here."
Iris regretted her words as Ianthe's and Hecate’s expressions tumbled down. Iris said nothing, turned and walked out. A farewell, at least, would have a good ending, unlike Mayumi’s. She would be happier if she said goodbye now.
Diantha had yet to know about the map’s arrival. Telling her was more strenuous than for others. Especially, when Diantha held her every night when she woke up panicked and crying.
Talk of the devil.
She saw Diantha coming down the stairs as she walked inside. “Iris,” she said softly. Iris felt elated just hearing her voice.
“I am looking for Lady Ilona,” she said. “Lady Ilona was not in her tower. I just checked this morning.”
“I see… I don’t know either. I am taking a rest. Do you want to come with me?” Diantha reached the white marble floor, her heels clicking with a solid tock.
“I shall,” Ilona would let her know when the map arrived. Iris rushed to Diantha’s side and asked, “Where were you going?"
“The garden, I’m done with most of the preparation—the day after tomorrow, a count will come here for business talk."
“Count? Isn’t he too high a status to come all the way here for business?" Iris mused. It made no sense.
“Emberstone territory is on the verge of dying of starvation, to put it bluntly—he is desperate for someone’s patronage. Yet every state of Laks wants to have a piece of this tragedy. Emberstone is beneath the Royal Capital of Laks, and as such, it is an important route for transportation. The royal capital prohibits transportation of any kind through its vicinity, so every trade takes place right beneath it."
“Hmm..” Iris knew about business as much as a toddler. But, hearing people dying from hunger did hit close to her heart. “I hope he gets something for his people.”
Diantha chuckled, “I’m afraid—he’ll get less than he desires,” then looked down at her. “Your map will arrive today—Have you decided on the day of your departure?"
“Tomorrow,” Iris said, feeling her chest tighten even more. Why did she know? Now, she did not need to worry about telling her. That was relieving, except Diantha was beside her.
“When did you plan to tell me?"
“...” She did not. She planned to have Viktor write a letter in her stead and give it to Diantha while she made her escape.
“I see…” Diantha spoke quietly and continued to walk. Then she paused and turned, “Actually, there is something I must teach you before you leave. Follow me.”
So they arrived back at Diantha’s room. Diantha went to the dresser, while Iris sat on the bed with her legs folded. She found sitting like this was bad. She somehow always flipped over, yet it was fun, falling on the comfy pillows. There were tens—Diantha filled this bed with just pillows because Iris liked it.
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“What is it you want to tell me?” Iris questioned.
"Something says that I am far from the optimal one to do this, but having you sit with someone unknown is more concerning."
Iris waited quietly. Diantha picked out two small and unknown pieces of clothing. They were barely clothes. Too small, shallow? Iris was unsure of the right words...
“What are these?” Iris asked as Diantha laid it in front of her.
“Underclothes,” Diantha said plainly.
“Ah, I remember you asking about it on the first day."
“I did. It is a necessary piece of clothing—something you wear underneath the clothes.”
“Why?”
Diantha let out a sigh. “If I tell you you just need to wear these, will you wear them?” Diantha asked.
“I don’t think that’s a problem, though I think, I will need an hour or so to learn to conjure them."
Diantha sighed. “Then do so. I shall explain the reason after you return."
“I will not return,” Iris replied. She took a deep breath Must stay calm. No emotions. She was better than that. “I will head for the tree of Eve after finding Edeath, and then I will probably sleep somewhere quiet."
“This quiet Iris, you can come here to sleep." Dianthe’s voice was hard, and her feet shuffled as she resisted the urge to approach.
“The longer I stay here, the more the ache in my heart deepens. I don’t want it. I am grateful for the kindness you have shown me, but I must sever these attachments—they are painful, and I’m afraid of them—I’m sorry,” Iris tried her best to sound calm, to pretend she was not crying. She was crying; she tried to hold back but couldn’t.
Diantha stepped closer to Iris and guided her head to her chest. “It’s okay,” she said softly. “It’s not your fault. I am here for you. Even if it is painful, I want you to remember me and know that this room will always be yours.” Iris tried to move away. “Please, Iris, don’t be afraid of me."
Her strength failed her.
Warm.
Diantha was always so warm.
Diantha held her warmly.
Iris wanted to stay like this longer. Diantha let go of her after she calmed down. “I’m sorry,” Iris muttered awkwardly.
Diantha smiled at her, “I’m glad you, at least, shared your fears with me." Her smile died, replaced with a frown. "But you have to return here, alright? Even if you want to sleep—you will sleep in my hands," Her eyes glowed as she held her hand. “Will you at least do that to repay me?”
Repay. The word Iris dreaded yet knew she would hear, and still, she felt emotional—she wanted to cry more. Diantha did not ask anything, even now, when she would leave. Diantha still only wanted to give her comfort. “I-I will,” Iris choked out.
“Thank you,” Diantha whispered. Iris should be saying that. Iris wanted to say that, but she couldn’t form words. Iris so dearly wished Diantha was less kind to her and more distant. But then she wouldn’t be Diantha. She was glad Diantha was like this, even if it hurt her heart.
“I’m glad that I met you." Her shoulder shook. She was ashamed, yet she had grown accustomed to letting out her emotions in front of Diantha. It was shameful as a level 6, yet she couldn’t help it.
“So am I,” Diantha kissed her forehead. “My mother bless you."
Iris recoiled back. She knew Diantha was not like that person yet; she couldn’t bear it. Diantha watched her shift.
"Iris." Diantha stared at her.
“Yes…”
“Do you want to share why you reacted like that?” Diantha still held her hand.
“N-no…” She knew Diantha would not think less of her even if she told her about her life, yet she was afraid to share it.
“Still…” Diantha’s eyes dimmed; she opened her lips to say something but didn’t.
“I’m sorry,” Iris muttered weakly.
“It is not your fault.” Diantha let go of her hand.
Iris took a deep breath. She would tell her. Show her that she trusted her, “Back in the village…” Iris paused as the pain of that time came back.
“Relax,” Diantha gently rubbed her shaking back.
“For the food… there was a woman in the village who gave me food… in return for my blood and tears… I don’t know why… but, she would kiss my forehead after that. I… hate her even though she gave me food,” Iris breathed out, her hand and legs shaking.
“It’s not your fault,” Diantha pulled her into a hug, “It is alright to hate that monster. Even I cannot fathom what kind of demon she was…” Diantha sighed. “I will find that lady…” Diantha whispered. Her voice was different from the one Iris knew. It was filled with hatred. She didn’t say anything—she wasn’t trapped in that past. The village was a past.
After another minute or so, Diantha let go of her. Iris was
“Still, you should learn how to make those."
Iris nodded. “I will do it right now. How do you wear these?” Iris lifted what she supposed was to be worn on her upper body. “This looks complicated." Her brows furrowed.
“I will teach you." Diantha stared at her chest, “On second thought, you might need a smaller size."
For some unknown reason, Iris felt jealous. Was Diantha mocking her? She did not know. Iris stared at Diantha’s chest. “They are smaller than Ilona,” Iris jabbed back. Diantha looked into her wide eyes, her mouth failing to form words.
“You…” Diantha finally sighed. “I thought you were an innocent girl, incapable of lust."
“Lust?” Iris tilted her head; she had the concept of lust—the mental state when humans or monsters were consumed by their desire to breed. “I have no desire to breed." She had seen the monster’s breed—it was not a pleasant memory. Though she had no idea how humans bred, she was sure the process would not be any less mind-numbing. She stared at Diantha. Her body shook as she imagined Diantha in place of the monster. Of course, she would do something stupid. Delete. Delete.
“Breed? What…” Diantha’s tone hardened as her face took on a crimson shade. “The hell are you thinking?"
“Isn’t what lust means: the desire to breed?” Iris did not doubt that her basic knowledge and social norms were different. How? Diantha’s expression, which never breaks, was now ugly.
“No!” Diantha screamed, letting out a suffering sigh, “I don’t even know how to explain this."
“You can recite the definition, and I’ll understand it.” Iris leaned forward, extremely curious about the thing that made Diantha lose her composer.
“I’d rather not,” Diantha said, sitting on the bed as well. “Do you prefer Ilona’s chest over mine?” She asked, her eyes dead serious as they bore into her.
“No… Prefer? I have not cared about her chest—I just said that in that moment." Iris was feeling dumb. What the hell did she even think when she said that? “I am sure Lady Ilona would not be as warm as you." Iris was more sure about it than anything.
“...” Diantha stared at her with eyes as big as an owl and let out another sigh. “At this rate, I might become 84 years old before 24… Let me show you how to wear them. Can you adjust the size of your clothes?”
“I can…”
“So, let’s get started.”
So, Iris once more felt lust, though she did not know that it was lust. To her, she was uncomfortable and burning—sorcery—A secret within those glowing eyes. A kind of spell that she couldn’t resist and neither wished to resist. Mind Magic of the highest degree.