Iris knew that she shouldn’t do it, but she was eager to see the dresses. She cleared her throat and tried to present herself as though she wasn’t interested, though her eyes betrayed a flicker of curiosity.

"It would be a shame for those dresses to sit in the dark and not have a lady touch them. If some of them are good, without stains or awful smells, you can give them away. Some ladies would be so fortunate to get them," Iris suggested.

"Well, then you can give them away to anyone you know would like them. I am tired of keeping them within my home, as it gives my relatives reason to come back here. There is more I can give away. Come with me," Zayne said, leading Iris out of the chamber.

Iris started to follow, but then her eyes fell on the food. "Your dinner will go cold."

"I can have it warmed when I return," Zayne replied dismissively.

Iris placed her hands on her hips. "You would have the servants warm the food again after they have just served it? I shall take it with you."

She returned to the table to pick up the tray.

"You don’t need to take it with you, Iris. I don’t mind eating the food when it is cold. I have done it before, and it tasted just as good as when it was hot. How long do you think we shall be away?" Zayne asked, approaching her to take the tray from her hands.

"I would not like the head maid to say that I fed you a cold dinner," Iris said, fighting to keep the tray.

"How would she know if we don’t tell her? You seem to forget that I am the master of this home. If I want to eat a cold dinner, who will stop me?" Zayne asked, still tugging at the tray.

"You are right," Iris said, finally letting go.

Zayne was forced to balance the tray before the food spilt onto his shirt. "I’m slowly learning my lesson that your mind switches quite fast, so for my sake, I must be careful."

"I’m sorry," Iris apologised, watching as Zayne set the tray down. "I promise that I will do better as your maid. Just watch. I might soon act like a maid who has more than thirty years of experience."

"Is it possible to have more experience than how old you are? That’s an interesting little trick you have there. Care to explain it to me?" Zayne asked, amused.

"You know that is not what I mean. I must confess that the few times I saw you at gatherings, you were not like this. You were different in my mind," Iris admitted, her voice softening as she recalled the image she once held of him.

"Oh. Is it a good or bad change?"

"I must say that it is good, because I have not been dismissed as yet, but the mystery is gone. You smiled a lot, but now I notice how dark your life is," Iris confessed.

"It is because I like the dark," Zayne answered, continuing to lead the way.

"I have started to believe that you are like a vampire, like in those stories, but instead of blood, you feed on sleep," Iris concluded, half-teasing, half-serious.

Zayne chuckled at the assumption. "You never truly know what is going on within someone’s mind. I assure you that I am not a vampire. If I were, I would be moving around at night. Aren’t I always in bed at night?"

He opened the door for Iris, letting her exit first.

"Well, perhaps some priest or hunter is searching for you at night, and you know it. I have a very creative mind," Iris said, piecing together her own little tale. "I cannot be fooled."

"Yet, you have fooled yourself. I fear for my life, as you might one day try to kill me. As depressing as my life is, I assure you that I want to live. So, don’t ever try to kill me while I sleep," Zayne said, mock-pleading.

"Oh, you mustn’t worry. Those who stay loyal to those creatures are always spared. Remember how good I am to you now," Iris said, bowing her head slightly to show respect.

Zayne could only laugh at her. "You are a strange one."

"I thought you needed a laugh. You’ve been moody since you started to receive letters. I didn’t mean to pry, nor did I read what was inside, but I noticed you have been more troubled these days," Iris said, worried for his sake.

"The topic of marriage is depressing when it is being arranged. It is not even my parents doing it. It is my uncle, and he does it because he is close to the duke," Zayne shared.

Iris’s eyes widened. "You could marry the daughter of a duke?"

"I might not have a title, but I am quite qualified to do so. I have even had proposals from the king to marry one of the princesses, but I declined. I don’t want to be pulled into the mess there. Marrying a princess and becoming part of that family would be exhausting," Zayne said, annoyed by the thought of it.

Zayne looked down to his right and noticed Iris’s stare. "What?"

"You’ve managed to impress me. I mustn’t forget that you are a well-sought-after man. I am somewhat honoured to be in your presence," Iris said, stopping to curtsy.

"You must drop this act before I consider dismissing you, and we both don’t want that," Zayne said, though he looked away to hide his smile.

"You would dismiss this pretty face?" Iris asked, framing her face with her hands. Remembering where she was, she quickly lowered them before another servant could see.

"Yes. Yes, I would. I would dismiss you if you were ugly as well. No face is special when it comes to dismissal. But if you thought of yourself as my family, then I would keep you forever," Zayne promised, his voice softer now.

"I am only Eloise’s family," Iris said, refusing to yield.