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The breakfast trolly was displayed like the day ahead, structured, neatly organised in an unsettling fashion that allowed for a false sense of freedom. The eggs were fluffy and golden, seemingly royal in colour and texture, the shine from the china plate painted them in a warm glow. The white of the plate melded seamlessly with the speckles of egg not covered in a golden coat. The gold, of course, being the perfect contrast to not only the plate but the glass of freshly squeezed orange juice that resided in the crystal glass beside it. The sickly sweet flavour alerting Iris to her senses as maids scurried like rats to pull together another flawlessly cleaned and pressed outfit for another perfect day in the life of the perfect family. The day was clear and simple. Greet the new governess, practise the skills required to manage an estate, show her around, be polite, nod your head, be firm but fair and so on until lunch. Then spend the rest of the afternoon entertaining yet more people of a higher level. A higher-stakes operation consisting of telling fifty people with all sorts of conflicting views exactly what they wanted to hear.
Iris walked to the ostentatious dresser, looking upon her messy reflection as Clara took the silver-lined hairbrush and began to stroke it gently through her hair, the knots, curls and tangles falling away with each sweep of Clara's wrist. The morning flew by as they usually do, there was seldom peace in Iris's days so she was somewhat thankful for the solace of the hours of preparation she had. It was nice to be given time to think and awaken before being thrust into duty after duty. Her and the maids often chattered about things of little importance, Iris would pull herself into the conversation in order to wake up. If any of them noticed her slow retorts they didn't mention. It made one wonder if it was due to the fact they didn't have a good education on interacting with upperclassmen, or whether they had a better education than anyone else. She applauded them for always managing to be perfectly visible when needed and ghost-like when trouble aroused.
Iris heard her mother's footsteps padding down the hallway, she sighed and said a silent prayer for a few more minutes of peace tomorrow. Before she could say amen her mother's voice erupted through the room in a high pitched shrill as the door swung open, almost hitting poor Mellisa in the face.
"Iris darling" It was too early for this
"Good morning mama," Iris said in the sweetest tone she could manage.
"Why, don't you look enchanting this morning?" Her mother said with a side glance at Iris's navy coloured dress. It was one of Iris's favourites, she'd procured it in a boutique last autumn just off Bond street. The dress hadn't been cheap but she'd charged it to the family estate without hesitation. The dress gave her an odd sense of satisfaction since its purpose was to be worn to a lunch with councilman Davidson, who was as interesting as his name suggests. While the lunch was particularly boring Iris enjoyed this dress since her mother had to sort out an emergency with some of their French lands that had suffered an infection of grapes in the vineyards, Iris's mother couldn't stand the idea of not being able to show off their "homegrown wine" to anyone who would give her the time of day, so she had reluctantly let Iris frolic to the shops alone, not having time to find a suitable escort, and Iris basked in the luxury of being able to pick the dress she liked the most rather than having her mother drone on about colour matching and not letting Iris have her "unflattering" body parts be on show. That wasn't to say that people didn't think Iris looked nice in the dress. In fact, it irritated her mother to no end when she would be complimented endlessly on how angelic she looked, the blue on the dress contrasting the paler shade in her eyes and the dark colour playing like an ocean wave upon the seafoam colour of her skin. It drew in at the waist and pushed up at the chest, much to her mother's disapproval. This dress made Iris feel like a soft velvet princess and with a velvet black choker she'd bought to match Iris spent any nervous moment stroking the soft material.
ŞİMDİ OKUDUĞUN
To my forbidden secret
RomantizmIn a time when their love is forbidden, Iris and Minerva vow to find each other in another life. A life that they could spend together. Throughout the one they have they write continuous poems back and fourth too one another expressing their undying...
