Chapter 7 —Mischief

It shocked me quite a bit to see the duke sitting by my bedside. He was the last person I expected to be attentively by my side when I woke—much less teasing me with a face full of mischief.

“Me? WHAT?”

“Why are you yelling?” Duke Orzo leaned back into the stiff backed chair and scrunched his nose in displeasure.

“Because my name isn’t Stella!”

I wasn’t sure why I was so annoyed with him. It didn’t really matter what he called me as long as he paid enough attention to me to thwart Sienna, but I was angry.

I didn’t want to be called Stella. 

It felt offensive like he was erasing who I was to draw me into something he preferred. It felt like he was erasing my mother with the dismissal of my rightful name.

It shouldn’t have mattered, but it made me livid all the same.

“Your name is Iristella. Don’t you think Stella is better than Iris? Why would you want to be called by your eyeballs? That’s bizarre. You’re not just your eyes, Iris.” He stretched my name out and looked off to the side with his arms crossed against his chest. The tone was condescending, but his body language screamed petulant.

“I’m not Iris, like eyeballs, Your Grace. I’m Iris like purple flowers. Why would you think eyeballs first? Normal people think flowers, Your Grace.”

I emphasized “Your Grace” the same way he emphasized “Iris,” mirroring his attitude and tone flawlessly. His translucent eyes blinked once then twice then once again, shooting twinkling stars out the sides of his horn-rimmed glasses. He looked shockingly younger than he did several minutes ago; the overbearing duke suddenly looked like a lost, rain-soaked puppy, blinking blankly at me. The air dried from my mouth, and I became parched like a desert sandstorm.

He looked so different—so shockingly different than how I knew him as a reader and as his daughter. His shining eyes glowed with mirth and twinkled with slight mischievous merriment. He looked like a father or older brother teasing their beloved daughter/sister. He didn’t look like the cold hearted tyrant that I knew him as. 

Ew. 

“Who are you?”

His face iced over, and the change into an unapproachable character calmed my nerves. Better a devil you knew than a devil you don't.

“What do you mean? Do you not recognize your own father?”

“No.”

The lack of hesitation caused the duke’s head to fall back in boisterous laughter. It was a new side of him that gave me goose flesh like a plucked bird. I involuntarily shivered. At the slight movement, the mood swinging duke hurriedly pulled the covers back over my body and forced me back into the plush bed, displacing the mattress's softness with my weight.

“You need to keep warm.”

I was too stunned to respond. All I could do was blink blankly at the duke’s translucent eyes. It was then that a thought crossed my mind. Why were his eyes devoid of color? Why were they merely a reflection of light rather than a collection of sunlight like the Orzo family trademark eyes? It was as if the goddess had condemned the duke by withholding her blessing from him altogether. 

Deserved it.

That was the thought that clouded my vision.

Even though he never directly participated in the horrors Iris experienced, his lack of interest and dismissiveness emboldened Sienna and her cronies. Had he even the slightest crumb of interest in Iris, the defenseless child would’ve lived an entirely different life. She might’ve still suffered, but at least the hatred and abuse wouldn’t have been so overt and cruel. She could’ve taken advantage of his pity. Maybe her daddy issues would’ve been worse, but at least Sienna would’ve had a harder time harming her.

“Why are you so small? You’ve only been here a month, and now you’re already a skeleton. You arrived looking like a little piggy.”

Enraged, I started spouting in anger. Some of it was nonsensical; some of it was how he was wrong for making fun of a child’s weight, and how it could cause real damage to a child’s self-esteem and cause eating disorders. Throughout my rant, a small smile stretched his lips as he patted my fuming chest.

“Seems like you’ve got a lot of energy for someone who’s been asleep for a good week. Guess Polan worried for no reason.” The corners of his lips and eyes tensed when he made his quip remark, and his whole body became rigid; it didn't seem like Lord Polan was the only one who worried about me.

No. I must be mistaken.

Polan Covellite was the second son of a count who had the unfortunate job of being Duke Orzo’s personal aide. In the novel, Polan was the only one in the entire manor who ever showed Iris any kindness. Every year on her birthday, Polan took the time to send her a consolation prize for being the unfortunate daughter of Duke Orzo under the guise of the duke’s name. Lord Polan was the only one in the entire estate who treated Iris with the respect the young lady of Orzo deserved. Although his actions were minimal at best and entirely superficial, it was the only kindness Iris knew her whole life.

“Does the goddess hate you?” I regretted it the moment it left my mouth, but there was no turning back now. I watched the duke’s face ice over and watched his eyes shimmer with an unfamiliar softness.

“Do you know what powers golden eyes hold, Iris?” He sounded wistful as he unnecessarily tucked me deeper into the bedding. As if to keep his hands busy, his fingers obsessively pressed the comforter inch by inch around my body as if he was folding me like bread dough into the bed.

“No,” was my honest answer.

“What do you think the opposite of the future is, Iris?”

His eyes looked millions of miles away as he focused on his slender fingers unnecessarily ministering to me. I studied him closely, moving my head to see the entirety of his face. I was beginning to feel annoyance at his cryptic replies. As his official heir, I was allowed—no, it was my right to know what powers the goddess's blessings bestowed upon the Orzo house.

“Not being able to see the future.”

The duke’s gentle expression was soft and unfamiliar as he chuckled, tucking my sticky strands of hair away from my face. My breath caught in my throat as tears involuntarily filled my eyes. It was a gentleness that reminded me of my mother; it was parental care was out of place for the cold-hearted duke.

“When I was asked, I answered the past. My reasoning was that if the future was time flowing in a forward motion. Naturally, the opposite would be time moving backward. I reasoned that the opposite of the future must then be the past. Do you know why our house’s powers remain a mystery to this very day?”

Engrossed, I didn’t interject with sass or opinions. Instead, I silently shook my head no, waiting for the somber duke to continue.

“Maybe it’s because we don’t know ourselves?” He flashed a wide smile and gave a jovial chuckle. The mischievous response made my jaw drop in stunned silence. It was becoming tiresome to be subjected to his boyish mischief.

We don’t know???

What kind of ridiculousness was that? Then what amazing power was it that helped us defeat the greatest evils of evils? How was this even possible?

“It’s said that no one knows—not even the blessed—the true capabilities of the goddess's blessing. When it is your time, you will know what you are capable of. Before then, I’m afraid you’re simply too young.”

It was that annoying smile again—one full of mischief and humor.

“Your only responsibility now is to grow up well.”

It was those words that jolted me back into reality. There was no way for me to grow up well without the duke’s expressed interest. As helpless and hopeless as it may have seemed, the duke was my only realistic means to survival. There was no one else in this manor with the power to protect me from Sienna.

Would it even be possible for me to grow up well?

I was unsure what to make of the duke’s sudden change in behavior. It was uncharacteristic, and it felt like an unknown trap waiting to devour me alive. I wasn’t sure if it would last. Was this the duke’s passing interest born from boredom? Or was this a cruel dream born of my fervent desire to survive?

It all felt overwhelming then.

“Get some sleep, Iris.”

Before I could protest, the duke’s hands blanketed my vision black, and warmth spread from his fingertips into my sunken cheeks. It didn’t take long for me to be lulled into a lucid dream state where I watched lives move about around me like a city street.

There were so many people that they all began to look alike, yet I somehow instinctively knew each and every one of them like they were close friends. Each person was in their own setting like a play scene built just for them. I watched some laugh. I watched some cry. I watched some screech at the heavens. But I heard nothing. It was like a whooshing of salted air bellowing in my ears. The sound was blanketed by wool, and I found it impossible to make out the jumbled words I read on the people's lips.

Typically, I would've been frustrated to only understand part of the story, but there was an odd comfort this time like I was safely guarded. So I stood and watched as person by person morphed into various versions of themselves at various points in time.

I didn't question what I saw. I didn't obsessively and anxiously try to decode what I saw before me. Instead, I watched like I was at a live theater, a spectator and not a participant. Someone on the outside looking in, and for once that felt okay to me.