The door opened.
A clear, melodious female voice rang out, carrying a hint of lethargy. "Do we have guests? I just heard someone talking bad about me at the door!"
A collective silence fell over the living room.
The atmosphere froze, plunging into extreme awkwardness.
"Iris?" Leona Vaughn turned around, momentarily stunned. She hadn't expected Iris Dalton to return at this time.
The young girl changed her shoes at the entryway. As she turned, her long black hair swayed around her waist, ethereal and elegant. It framed a fair, bright, and delicate face that exuded a cold, pristine purity.
She was as captivating as a woodland elf.
Fiona Goldsmith paused briefly. Her smile was a bit forced, but she still greeted her. "You must be Iris. Truly worthy of being a daughter of the Sherwood Family, you're quite beautiful."
James Vaughn gripped his teacup tightly. His unpredictable eyes scrutinized the girl. He noted that she was indeed the Sherwoods' seed, looking exactly like them.
