It was all there. But there wasn’t even a hint of anything more.
Why would someone like that want someone like her?
Maybe he wouldn’t. For some reason, that made her feel a guilty surge of hope.
“Has anyone asked him about this yet?”
Lady Marianne shook her head. “Since you’re easier to reach, I deemed it best to speak to you first. But you don’t have to worry, Iris.”
Iris knew what she was alluding to. Years ago, her sister, Seraphina, had been told about a prospective match—only to have it disappear in a puff of smoke when the man had decided that, no matter what the Silver Council thought about it, he didn’t want to marry someone with such a scandalous sister.
Iris had already ruined a marriage prospect that wasn’t even hers. How could Marianne be so sure that wouldn’t happen again, this time for a much better reason?
“He’s always had a flawless sense of duty,” Lady Marianne added.
The idea that Keith Ridley would grit his teeth and marry her out of a sense of obligation, just to honor the Silver Council’s choice, terrified her. That would be even worse than the humiliation of being rejected.
But Marianne was probably right. Didn’t Keith’s job in the outside world essentially boil down to enforcing codes of behavior? Thanks to the photograph, it was easy to picture him quelling even the most dangerous criminals with one icy glower.
Lady Marianne started telling her all about Keith’s illustrious family tree, but Iris found herself only half-listening. She was still looking at the photo.
Unexpectedly, her unicorn spoke up:You of all people should know it’s not fair to judge a book by its cover.
She used to hear her unicorn a lot, but after the accident, it had been such an unruly presence in her head that she’d trained herself to suppress it. Hearing it now startled her—especially since it had a point.
After all, what would she look like to Keith? Never mind the crinkled-looking scarring that ran all along one side of her face, marring her chin and cheek all the way up to her temple. This wasn’t just about physical appearance. If it had been, she would have been delighted by Keith’s photo: with his dark blond hair, finely chiseled jaw, and bottomless gray eyes, what was there not to like?
This was about thefeelingshe got from his picture. She just didn’t feel like he had a very kind face.
But he wouldn’t think she did, either. No one would, not ever again. The damaged nerve endings had taken away her smile.
She could still talk—although even after months of speech therapy, Iris still slurred her words a little when she was tired—but the exact movements required to curl the corners of her mouth, to look happy, to look friendly ... those were gone, and all the doctors had agreed they weren’t going to come back. Now, no matter what she felt, her lips were a plain, flat line.
She’d lost all her expressiveness. Actually, it was worse, because she didn’t even look neutral. She tried to avoid mirrors these days, but when she had to face them, she saw someone who looked permanently unhappy. Glum. Bored. Sour.
It never changed, no matter how happy she was.
So it doesn’t really matter that I haven’t been happy since it happened.It wouldn’t show anyway.
So her unicorn was right. She was a vivid example of how appearances didn’t always reflect reality.
But she was an unusual case. It wasn’t like Keith Ridley was going to have the same rare kind of nerve damage she did. It wasn’t the same thing at all.
If he hadn’t smiled when his picture had been taken, it was because he hadn’t wanted to. Right?
“Should I move forward?” Lady Marianne asked.
Iris swallowed. “What happens if you do?”
“I’d contact Deputy Marshal Ridley—”
Was that his title? Would he expect her to call him that?
Was she supposed to call him that inbed?
Ooh, have your way with me, Deputy Marshal Ridley!
She shoved that thought as far away as possible. That was the old Iris, not the new Iris. The new Iris wasn’t sarcastic.
