Chapter 9 —Toy Store

The tension was palpable in the mansion for the rest of the month. The servants were skittish around the duke and wary of me. It was all quite understandable.

Ever since the duke was informed I did not have proper servants, the entire house was turned upside down. Thankfully, our afternoon teatimes were still regular occurrences even after I cried the entire afternoon when the chocolate murdered my berries and pastries. But after the chocolate massacre, I began seeing the duke less and less as the weeks went by, and I was slightly grateful I saw him less. Being around the duke made me feel like an ulcer was forming from the stress of being in the presence of a murderous villain. It truly was difficult to live as Iris Orzo.

I let out a long sigh again as I dipped my dark silverware into my hearty soup. When I was with the duke most of the day, I had my meals and snack times with him, so my food wasn't tampered with. But with each passing day without the duke present, Sienna was slowly going back to her witchy ways. The change may be that my meals were more nutritious, but my food being poisoned remained the same.

Several maids now rotated in shifts to wait on me. But the maids changed so frequently that it was difficult to keep everyone's name straight. I wasn't quite sure why I still hadn't received a permanent maid, but it wasn't something I had a lot of control over, so I dismissed my concern. It was pointless to endlessly fret over something I had no control over.

The rest of the staff were more respectful and greeted me properly everywhere I went, so it didn't seem like the lack of a lady-in-waiting or personal maid harmed my standing or authority within the house. If anything, it felt safer to not have anyone breathing down my neck every moment of every day. The only problem was I was back to being a helpless and defenseless five-year-old.

"Papa," my voice breaking the silence in the greenhouse, "is this broke? Why it not turn color?"

A large part of me cringed at the inarticulate speech, but I needed to play the part of a five-year-old. And I needed to be as adorable as possible, so I could survive.

The duke raised one eyebrow as he peered over the rim of his teacup to look over at me, silver spoon in hand. His expression was one of questioning like, "What are you asking me? That's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard." I bit down the urge to roll my eyes.

"What do you mean, Your Ladyship? Do you mean your spoon? Spoons shouldn't change color, my lady."

I said a silent thank you to Lord Polan. His question gave me the perfect opening to inconspicuously tattle on Sienna. I needed to pretend I didn't know why my silverware would turn black every time I ate my meals because a typical five-year-old wouldn't know (hopefully) the reason why. I needed to appear as naïve as possible in front of Sienna's spies lurking in the shadows.

"Black. My spoons always turns black when I eat without Papa. Is it because it's sad Papa not's there?" 

I batted my puppy dog eyes at Lord Polan, appearing as innocent as possible. I'm sure it was effective by the way Lord Polan's calm and curious demeanor crumpled into one of a gushing, star-stricken fan. I bet all the money I don't have that I looked pretty cute.

"What did you just say, Iristella?"

I was taken out of my momentary jovial, self-congratulatory speech at the duke's gritted words. I audibly gulped the lump that formed in my throat, so much so that my mouth ran dry. Every hair stood on end, cold lava washed through my head and into my toes when my eyes met the duke's cold ones. He looked like stone, one brimming with anger. 

Fear gripped me. I wish it was anger instead of fear that held me captive. I wish my body felt the logical response I held to his inappropriate and repulsive response. How is it my fault that my food was being poisoned by his wife? It wasn't like I wanted to be poisoned and harmed and feared for my life. Why was he so angry with me?

True to the impulse control and emotional response this body held, I began weeping, crying at the top of my lungs.

"Iris is sorry. I didn't break it. I promise. I didn't do it. Iris is sorry." 

The words left my mouth on autopilot. There was desperation to them as I pleaded. I'm not sure what prompted my endless apologies, and I'm not sure why I felt such an intense response to his displeasure. However much therapy he needed had nothing to do with me. I'm just here trying to survive, man. But I cried. I cried nonstop. I wailed as the greenhouse's atmosphere became so tense one could crack it like peanut brittle.

"Take the child back to her room," was the calm, low voice of the duke that finally added to the sounds of my weeping. 

Someone moved quickly, picked me up and headed towards the exit. True to my nature, I began failing in their arms, screaming at the top of my lungs, venting my anger through my tiny fists as the servant struggled to lug me away.

How dare he?

How dare the pretentious duke send me to my room like I'd done something awful because I was being poisoned? Was it because I ruined the silverware? This was preposterous. He was more concerned about the paltry value of his silverware over the safety of his child?! I can't believe he would punish me for something so dumb.

This man was out of his mind.

That evening, I threw a classic Iris tantrum, ignoring the duke's summons and refused my dinner. It was probably for the best anyway. The food would've only made me sick one way or the other, and I may end up dead earlier than planned if I had to see the duke. A girl's gotta exercise her power and authority every once in a while.

When teatime came the next day, I flung myself onto the ground and screamed bloody murder, refusing to go to the greenhouse. Although I was full of proud bravado last night, I was scared of the consequences today. I really didn't want to see the duke and be dealt the punishment I'd earned. Thankfully, it wasn't the duke who had come to bring me to the greenhouse but a nameless servant. Lately, the duke met me at the greenhouse rather than coming to my room and carrying me along to the greenhouse. There was a small part of me that did feel disappointed.

I'd gotten used to the ducal carriage rides and had begun looking forward to them. I liked the comical theater that trailed behind us in the form of Lord Polan, and I liked the familiar comfort of being held. I felt like a princess whenever the duke personally took me to our greenhouse teatime. It made me feel thought of and special, but that was something I couldn't admit—not even to myself. 

Three days after the silverware debacle, my room was flooded with toys of various shapes and sizes. There were dolls, teddy bears, a dollhouse that was a miniature model of the actual mansion, and countless other things I couldn't name. It was like an entire toy store had been brought into my bedroom. There wasn't floor space anywhere in the spacious bedroom for one to walk because of the toys.

"Do you like it, my lady?" Lord Polan asked with a wide grin, startling me as he jumped out from behind a six-foot-tall teddy bear. Gripping the front of my dress for dear life, I put a free hand up to still Lord Polan while I caught my breath. Lord Polan had jumped out from behind the bear like a jack-in-the-box here to murder me.

When I finally had my breathing under control, I rolled my shoulders back and breathed a long sigh between my lips, "The fact that my bedroom is now a toy store?" The sarcasm was laid thick like a hefty dollop of jam on toasted bread, but Lord Polan paid no mind to my snarky remark. 

"Is it not enough? We can buy another toy store if you'd like. His Grace wasn't sure what all you'd like, so he bought the entire store. But if none of this is to your liking we can get something else."

My jaw dropped to the ground, stunned. How did a person buy an entire toy store? Just because he didn't know what kind of toy his child might like? Did he buy multiple of the same toy, too? Taking a closer look around, it seems my suspicions were correct. There were at least two of everything laid out across and atop every surface in the room. 

The duke genuinely bought an entire toy store's inventory.