Burning survival

Mother knows Best

The queen's eyes crinkling at the corners as she regarded her daughter's disheveled state. Her voice was tinged with a hint of dryness and her words dripping with subtle reprimand. "Early enough to hear that I had somehow abandoned my youngest daughter," she repeated, her eyes never leaving Iris's face. "I must say, Iris, I'm disappointed. I expected more from you. Not this... melodrama."

The queen's gaze swept over Iris's rumpled clothes and tangled hair, her expression a mixture of disappointment and exasperation. Voice firm but measured she bgam to walk towards her daughter, her words cutting through Iris's dramatics like a sharp knife. "And the attempts to escape," she continued, her eyes narrowing slightly. "You would have been free five days earlier had you not tried to flee. But no, you had to try and escape, didn't you? And now, you paid the price for your impulsiveness." The queen's expression was stern, but a hint of sadness lurked in her eyes, a sense of disappointment and frustration with her daughter's behavior.

The queen's voice softened, her tone gentle as she reached out to fix the loose curl that had escaped Iris's tangled hair. "Iris, I only do this because I love you," she said, her words a whispered promise. "I want what's best for you, even if it means keeping you confined for a little while. You're my daughter, and I want to protect you." The queen's fingers were deft and gentle as she smoothed out the curl, her touch a comforting reminder of her love. Iris felt a pang of guilt and regret, her dramatics forgotten in the face of her mother's quiet devotion.

Iris's face broke out into a radiant smile, her eyes shining with relief and gratitude. "I will never stay out late again, I promise," she said, her voice filled with sincerity. She looked up at her mother, her gaze meeting the queen's warm and loving eyes.

The queen smiled back, her expression softening as she gazed at her daughter. She reached out and gently stroked Iris's cheek, her touch a comforting reminder of her love and forgiveness. "I know you won't, dear," she said, her voice gentle. "if you do we will double the time you stay indoors."

The queen's expression turned practical, her mind already turning to the upcoming ball. "It's time for your fitting," she said, her voice firm but gentle. "The ball is in just a few days, and I want to make sure you look your absolute best. Raya, please escort Iris to the seamstress's chambers. We need to make sure the gown is perfect."

Iris's face fell, her eyes clouding over with reluctance. "The ball?" she repeated, her voice laced with disdain. "Must I, Mother? I'd much rather stay in my rooms and read a book, you can lock me back in." She pulled her arm out of Raya's grasp, her shoulders slumping in protest. "I hate balls, Mother. All those people, the noise, the music... it's all so overwhelming. And the dresses, and the dancing... I'm just not very good at it." Iris's voice trailed off, her eyes pleading with her mother to reconsider.

The queen's face broke out into a warm, amused smile. "Then take it as the second half of your punishment," she said, her voice dripping with gentle teasing. She nodded to Raya, who stepped forward to take Iris's arm once more. "Raya, please escort my daughter to the seamstress's chambers. We must ensure that she looks her absolute best for the ball."

Iris's face fell, her eyes flashing with dismay as Raya gently but firmly led her away, the horror still visible on her face.

The queen's smile lingered, a hint of mischief dancing in her eyes as she watched her daughter being led off to her fitting. One day her daughter would understand why she knew what was best for her.

As Iris walked down the hallway, Raya, her loyal handmaid, fell into step beside her. "My lady, I need to tell you something," she said, her voice low and urgent.

Iris turned to her, curious. "What is it, Raya?"

Raya glanced around nervously before leaning in closer. "The seamstress who's supposed to fit you for the gown... she's not the same one who's been doing it for years."

Iris's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "What do you mean? Who is she, then?"

Raya's expression was serious. "I'm not entirely sure, my lady, but I overheard some of the servants talking. Apparently, the old seamstress retired recently - she was getting on in years, and it was time for her to rest. This new seamstress was brought in to replace her."

Iris's eyes narrowed, her mind racing with possibilities. "I see," she said, her voice measured. "Well, let's just hope she's competent, at least."

Raya nodded, but her expression remained uneasy. "I just thought you should know, my lady to avoid any surprises"

Iris smiled reassuringly. " Oh Raya. Thanks for looking out for me."

As they reached the door to the fitting room, Iris took a deep breath and pushed it open. The new seamstress, a woman with a kind face and skilled hands, looked up from her work and curtsied.

"Ah, my lady, it's an honor to finally meet you," she said, her voice warm and respectful. "I've heard so much about you from the palace staff."

Iris smiled politely, though her eyes still held a hint of wariness. "Thank you," she replied. "I'm looking forward to seeing the gown."

The seamstress nodded, her eyes sparkling with enthusiasm. "I have just the thing, my lady. A rich, velvety fabric that will perfectly complement your striking blue eyes and fiery red hair."

As she smoothed the material onto the table, preparing to take Iris's measurements, her gaze met Iris's face - and her smile faltered. A deep scowl still etched Iris's features, her brow furrowed in concern.

The seamstress smiled mischievously. "Ah, my lady, I have the perfect shade to match those stunning blue eyes and fiery red locks of yours. I present to you... 'Midnight Sky'!"

She held up the fabric, and Iris's eyes widened as she took in the breathtaking color. The dress would be a deep, rich blue, almost purple, with subtle hints of silver that seemed to shimmer in the light.

"It's exquisite," Iris breathed, her unwillingness to go to the ball momentarily forgotten, at the sight of the beautiful material.

The seamstress beamed with pride. "You'll be the belle of the ball, my lady. This gown will make you shine like a star among the other guests."

Iris's face fell, her mind suddenly flooded with memories of her reluctance to attend the ball. She had only agreed to go because of her duty to her family and the kingdom, not because she actually wanted to.

The seamstress's words, meant to be complimentary, only served to dim Iris's spirits further. She felt like she was being forced into a role she didn't want to play, and the beautiful gown only seemed to emphasize that feeling.

"Thank you," Iris said politely, trying to hide her true emotions. "I'm sure it will be... lovely."

The seamstress didn't seem to notice Iris's lack of enthusiasm, and she continued to chat excitedly about the gown and the ball. Iris listened politely, but her mind was elsewhere, lost in thoughts of how she could stop what was bound to happen to her sister at the ball.