Slave to Sapphire
Chapter 11

Ezekiel waited to speak again until they were back in the privacy of his study.

“It has become evident to me that; I am in need of some help with the continued organization of my ledgers and the auditing of all transactions associated with Amarath Mines going forward.” Ezekiel hesitated his long fingers nervously straightened some papers on his desk. “Would you be willing to work with me as my assistant? You would obviously be relieved of your kitchen duties.”

“Sure,” Iris responded simply.

His eyes sprung to hers “What? No conditions?”

Iris frowned, “Working in the kitchens is hard labor and the rest of the staff hates me. I have preferred my time working in your study.”

“Well, when you put it like that, I am not sure I should be flattered.”

Iris rolled her eyes and fixed her gaze on Ezekiel, “I like working with you Ezekiel and have enjoyed the past week.”

“I enjoy spending time with you as well,” He replied, the corner of one side of his lips turning up.

Iris’ face heated; that is not exactly what she had said.

Ezekiel’s smile widened. “I have another proposal for you. The Vernal Equinox Ball is tonight, and I was hoping that you would join me.”

Iris couldn’t stop the laugh that escaped her. “Absolutely not! First of all, you can’t bring a servant as your date and second, I don’t have anything to wear.”

Ezekiel was not dissuaded, “I am one of the Grand Ruler’s sons. I can bring whoever I want to the ball.” Then Ezekiel gestured to a large box that had been placed on the couch while they were at the stables. “And you do have something to wear.”

Iris looked at him skeptically. She couldn’t resist her curiosity. What kind of a dress Ezekiel would pick out for her to wear? Iris walked over to the couch. The box was white and tied closed with a black silk ribbon. Iris slid the ribbon off the box and lifted the lid. The box was filled with black silk. She lifted the black dress out of the box and held it in front of her. The neckline was a V but did not appear to be a plunging one. The dress would hug her body through her hips and the skirts took on a flowing shape. The more conservative front of the dress was made up for by the very low back of the dress. Iris ran her hand over the soft silk of the skirt and realized that it wasn’t a skirt but flowing pants.

“I know how you dislike dresses, so I had this made for you; it should fit.” Ezekiel had moved to the front of his desk and leaned against it as he watched Iris admire the piece of clothing.

Iris was taken aback. The piece of clothing was stunning and Ezekiel had it custom made for her. He must have been planning on asking her to the ball for some time now. Iris did not know how to receive such a gift and wondered what was expected in return if she accepted it.

Ezekiel sensed her indecision. “You don’t have to go as my date. We can go as business colleagues celebrating the work we just accomplished together.”

Iris rubbed the slippery silk between her fingers. She was interested to see what an event in the Grand Ballroom would be like and saying yes would make Ezekiel happy. Thinking of Ezekiel’s happiness made Iris uncomfortable. Ezekiel lived a life of privilege, his every need taken care of; his happiness should not matter to Iris. Since she had arrived in the Palace, he had treated her with a level of kindness and respect that Iris was not accustomed to. She felt the need to repay him.

“Okay I will go with you. But there are some conditions.”

Ezekiel’s pushed off from the desk and took a step towards her. His body hummed with excitement. “I would expect nothing less of your acceptance.”

“We are going as business colleagues; therefore, I will not be dancing with you.”

Ezekiel gave her a small bow. “Of course, that would be very inappropriate. I will have your…. Uh gown sent to your room and someone will come to escort you to the Ball.”

Iris laughed; she wasn’t sure of what to call the dress with pants that Ezekiel had designed for her either.

Shortly after Iris returned to her rooms, a servant delivered the gown neatly folded in the box, along with a pair of strappy black sandals. Ezekiel was correct in his assumption that Iris would refuse to wear a heeled shoe. She undressed and stepped into the black silk, it fit her perfectly, so perfectly that the material did not allow for undergarments. The silk was deliciously soft against her body. With the gown on it was difficult to notice that the skirt had been divided into pants. A delicate ocean breeze blew through her window and danced across the exposed skin of her back. Iris ran her fingers over the recently healed wound on her shoulder blade, the scab had fallen off a day ago. Her fingers were met with the soft and slightly raised texture of a fresh scar.

Iris had just finished securing the row of small buttons on the side of the gown when her door was flung open. A beautiful woman entered her room. She had piercing blue eyes and her thick black hair fell in shining waves over her shoulders. Her painted red lips matched her deep red gown. The cuff on her left arm was polished until it glistened her source stone a dark purple. There was a familiarity in the fine features of her face and Iris immediately recognized her as Ezekiel’s sister, Imogen.

Imogen must have also decided that her introduction was unnecessary. She securitized Iris and her surroundings. When she surveyed the small living space, a look of revulsion crossed her face. Samson arched his back and hissed at her. Imogen softened her features and plastered on a sweet smile.

“You must be Iris; I didn’t believe my brother at first when he informed me that he planned on taking you to the Vernal Equinox Ball. But here you are, standing in a stunning black gown with orange cat fur stuck to it.”

Iris glanced down at herself to see that some of Samson’s fur clung to the fine black silk. She cursed and bent to brush it off.

Imogen let out a high clear laugh that reminded Iris of bells. “You will have to remember not to curse when you leave the servant quarters.”

Iris’ nostrils flared, she held her head high and glowered at Imogen. “Why are you here?”

Imogen was taken aback, not used to being spoken to so directly by those she assumed to be below her.

“I came to help you get ready and escort you to the ball. I will take you to my rooms where we can sit without getting the fur from a half wild animal on us.”

Imogen marched out of Iris’ room. Iris looked at Samson and shrugged. She snagged her black sandals and hurried to follow Imogen. Imogen didn’t speak to or acknowledge Iris as they walked to her rooms.

A young woman waited at her doors; her blue source stone indicated that she was a servant but she was dressed finely. She lowered her head in greeting and opened the door for Imogen. Imogen blew through the door and sat in one of the plush chairs of her sitting room. The young woman looked skeptically at Iris as she entered. Imogen motioned for Iris to sit in the chair across from her. The sitting room was expensive, with soft carpets on the floor and oil paintings on the walls. There was a large window that looked out onto the gardens.

Imogen looked at the young woman. “This is my ladies’ maid, Anna; she will fix your hair and apply your makeup.”

Iris inhaled sharply, fighting to keep down that sadness that rose at hearing her sister’s name. Anna moved behind her and started brushing Iris’ long black hair.

Imogen studied Iris again, “Your eyes are remarkable, and your black dress compliments them. Ezekiel has always had good taste in fashion.”

“Why don’t you just tell me why you have brought me to your rooms?” Iris stated.

Imogen let out another tinkling laugh. “You are direct, aren’t you? I wanted to meet with you privately so I can see who has captivated my brother.”

“And now that you have met me?”

“A couple of decades ago, Ezekiel attempted to open a charitable kitchen for the people in Scarlet Town. The project failed miserably. After that he stayed away from Scarlet Town until our mother died. The past year it has been an open secret that he spends several nights a month in Scarlet Town. Until that is…. he found you. His next charitable project.”

Iris snorted. “I am not Ezekiel’s project. I have been helping him with his ledgers. My background makes me interesting to him and my presence provides him with a distraction from the tedium of his wealthy lifestyle.” The truth of her statement weighed heavily on her. The small amount of excitement that she was beginning to feel for the evening vanished.

Imogen smiled, her red lips parting to show her white teeth. “That is one way of looking at the situation. Either way, I wouldn’t want Ezekiel leading you to believe that there is any permanence to your relationship.”

Anna finished combing Iris’ hair and twisted it into a chignon using a thin silver hair pin to hold it in place. Anna then moved in front of Iris and applied a maroon paint to Iris’ lips and black coal around her eyes. While Anna worked, Imogen prattled on about who would be attending the Ball. Once Anna was finished, she stepped away from Iris so that Imogen could assess her work.

Imogen looked at Iris with approval, “You will definitely be a distraction for Ezekiel tonight.”

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