Beguiled

Part Three

It took a carriage ride and a walk through the woods to get back home. She knew her mother was waiting up for her, she had claimed that if Iris didn't come home early enough she would plague her. Though Iris knew she wouldn't do it, she still obeyed. She didn't want any tension. Why Ashili didn't want her to stay out, she didn't know. Perhaps it was that she feared Iris would be irresponsible, and she would have been right. Iris did reveal herself this night. To a charming stranger she knew she wouldn't forget. Maybe they'd never meet again, but she knew where to find him. The palace. His name flew passed her lips in a whisper, "Colin..."

All she'd have to do was ask for him.

She wondered about the face beneath the mask.

She made her way up the stairs to her room, and she stopped short at the door when she saw her witch mother sitting on the bed. Yes, she had been waiting for her. Iris moved slowly through the door, an innocent smile on her lips. A moment later she spoke softly, "Mother."

Ashili smiled in return, her emerald green eyes glowing in the dark, "Iris, darling." She patted the bed beside her. The younger woman sat down, folding her hands in her lap. The older spoke again, "Did you have your fun? Did you speak with anyone?"

Iris smiled still, "Fun, yes, speak to anyone, no. I'm far too shy."

Ashili had no reason not to believe her, Iris was indeed meek. She sighed, not out of exhaustion or annoyance, but out of relief. Her smile remained as well, an adoring glint in her bright eyes, "What was it like being in the palace? You did well in swaying the guards. Now do you believe how powerful you are?"

Iris straightened up with subdued excitement, "Oh, it was wonderful! Even more beautiful than I had imagined. Thank you, mother."

Ashili brought a hand to the inside of Iris's thigh, smoothing over it, "You are good for coming home."

Though Iris felt an ache to remove Ashili's hand, felt a certain tension, her smile lifted further, "I wouldn't dream of not returning."

The older witch's expression brightened before she leaned forward. Iris knew what she expected, so she leaned forward as well, until they met in a gentle kiss. Pulling back, Iris smiled once more, through her heart wasn't in it. She hoped the other couldn't tell.

It was then that Ashili removed her hand and stood, "Sleep well, my dear."

But Iris didn't sleep well. She thought of Colin. Dare she go back there? Convince the guards once more with her power. Would he welcome her, or would he be upset? Oh how she wished she could have stayed. Who knew what might have happened.

But she knew regret and dwelling did no good.

She awoke like every other morning, to Ashili opening the curtains. The sun was bright. They didn't speak, Iris simply left the bed and moved downstairs. She knew her mother was following. They ate together. They'd grown into the custom of not speaking, no longer having much to say. Their life was quiet, but it was comfortable, despite how it might look if someone were to observe.

Ashili took the plates into the kitchen just as a knock of the door resounded, "Would you get that, dear?"

The young woman went to the door, wondering who it could be. They never got visitors. But she was happy, confident enough, as she opened the entrance. To find no one there. She looked every way, seeing nothing, until she looked down. There on the ground was a white rose. She knelt down to pick it up. And when she stood, the petals slowly shifted into a shining orange, catching the sunlight as though it were made of dark, gradient gold. She stared in awe, her insides swelling with a giddiness she had never felt. Beaming, she glanced around once more, trying to find the sender. But no one.

She went to smell the magical flower, but as she brought it upward, the center caught on fire, the flames spreading outward until the petals and the stem turned to ash, floating to the ground.

Her spirit fell, the fire tormenting her, the disappointment shattering her. Who would give her something so beautiful just for it to turn to dust?

She backed away, dismay displayed on her features, before closing the door.

"Who was it, darling?"

Iris turned to find Ashili cleaning the table of crumbs. She shook her head, breathless, "No one. There was no one there."

Ashili glanced up at her, her eyes piercing, a clear doubt in her expression, but she did not speak until a moment later, "I thought we might take a stroll, practice your magick out in the woods today."

Iris nodded, "Sounds lovely. I will fetch my cloak." It was a cheeky statement as she brought her hand up to flick her fingers, the hood drifting smoothing toward her, where she caught it and slipped it on. Magick often meant laziness.

She gave Ashili a proud, playful look, and the mother witch gave an amused one in return.

Being the leader, Ashili stepped through the door first, leading Iris down the path. It was always so calm, so serene, when they walked through the forest. It was like every other time until they came to a small clearing.

Ashili went around behind Iris, bringing her hands up to smooth them down the younger woman's arms, "Do as I told you."

Iris nodded before swiping her hand out in front of herself, "Surge sursus."

The roots of a nearby tree bubbled up from the ground, bumpy and twisted, moving fast across the empty area. It was a trick of defense, something she questioned if she'd ever need. But it was practical.

With the deed done, they made their way back, moving side by side, unspeaking. Comfortable. Enjoying the radiance of the sun on the leaves. But after not too long, Ashili stumbled, bringing her hands up to her face with a shriek of pain. Iris stopped and turned to her, holding a hand out in concern, "Mother. What's wrong?"

She saw her answer when Ashili looked up at her, her face covered in boils. The bright eyed witch whimpered, shaking in agony.

"Oh my lord," Iris exhaled. She didn't know what to do, grabbing onto Ashili's wrists and collapsing down to the ground along with her. All she could do was watch as her mother went unconscious.

Then she heard the crunch of leaves and she startled, looking up. It was a handsome man, something familiar about his mouth, his jaw, the build of his body. She could only assume who it was. But formalities had to wait. "Please! Please help. She's in pain."

The man, concerned, went to her, kneeling down, "What is wrong?"

"Boils, they just appeared." She turned Ashili face up, "Please... please don't put judgement upon me." She knew that if she were wrong about him, he wouldn't expect her magick. But this was a grave matter.

She'd never done a healing spell, but she had to attempt it. She placed both hands upon Ashili's face and called upon the power within her, the essence flowing out in sparkling yellow ribbons. And when she removed her hands, her mother was healed.

The man beside her looked at her in awe, wonder in his eyes. Then realization hit. "Iris?"

She faced him in return. She was correct. "Colin..."

"What you just did. It's incredible."

Despite the serious situation, she smiled. But it soon faltered, "Please. Can you carry her?"

He set his jaw with a firm nod, "Lead the way to your home."

She hoped she could trust him enough to allow him the knowledge of where she lived, but he appeared kind enough. She stood as he slipped his arms beneath the unconscious woman, standing a moment later.

"Thank you," she spoke, relieved and grateful.

He nodded with a kind smile, "Nothing but a gentleman's duty."