Chapter 23: Iris
"Here."
A soft, feminine voice broke through his thoughts.
He stopped and turned to the sound.
At the far end of the dining hall, seated at a worn-out table where no one else approached, was a lone girl with midnight-blue hair, her violet eyes looked directly at him with calm intensity.
She waved at him casually, a slight smile tugging at her lips.
Iris.
She had fair skin and a slender frame, delicate but not frail.
Her black and white maid outfit hugged her modest curves in just the right way—graceful, not overly seductive. The ribbon at her collar was slightly crooked, her hair tied back in a loose ponytail, strands of midnight-blue falling over her cheek as she chewed quietly.
Alaric approached and took a seat beside her, the bench creaking faintly beneath him.
"You’re late again," Iris murmured, glancing sideways while tearing a small piece of bread.
"Had something to finish," Alaric replied, scooping a spoonful of lukewarm porridge into his mouth.