The dining room had been cold and full of echoes. Mephisto could tell Iris was disgruntled and that she hated it, and he didn't blame her but it didn't make his life any easier. She'd taken a fitful nap, clearly in a lot of pain from how she tossed about, before she finally gave in and allowed him to help her up again.
Stomachs satiated, Mephisto led her through the castle, his hand on her lower back and her eyebrows knit together, one hand cradling the other.
It was slow going, but that'd been expected. She was injured and the castle was large.
Mephisto wasn't sure what she wanted. Did he narrate where they were, or did he let her be on her own? She wouldn't remember her way no matter what, so it wasn't like the information would help. But still, he guides her gently, steering her out of the way of people walking or to the left or the right.
After a while he pauses, glancing at her. She takes a half step after he pauses, then pats to her left until she finds his arm, holding onto it.
"Why are we stopped?"
"You're going to need clothing."
She sighed. "Duh."
"I know a tailor, he's just a floor down and…" He counted with his fingers on his free hand, then shrugged. "He's a floor down."
"Well, you have the reigns so." Iris held her hands up, shrugging. Her eyes were open, but it wasn't like that was helpful for her.
He suddenly missed how she used to look at him.
Confident, full of laughter and righteous rage, eyes bright and focused.
If he were stupid, he'd resent Gramorr for this. Instead he swallows, rubs her back gently and guides her back the way they'd came, towards the staircase.
She was beautiful. The infirmary had provided a loose fabric shirt for her, weird and with a tie in the back, as well as a pair of pants with loose ankles, but there were no shoes. Iris was a picture in it, her hair loose and tangled and stained, bandages everywhere, eyes straight forward, then the crisp and unfeeling white of the shirt and dark blue of the pants. Not her colors, but still interesting.
The steps are interesting but they make it down without any accidents, her bottom lip wobbling traitorously and Mephisto so focused, so concerned with each movement of her bare feet.
When they're back in the halls of the next floor down, Mephisto sighs into the buzzing silence between them.
"Looking for something to say?" Iris guessed.
"Is it obvious?"
"Very."
He can't help but laugh once at that. Of all the things for her to have picked up about him, his nervous ticks felt about right.
"I know you're not… doing well." He starts.
"Obviously."
"But when we get to the room, I do have something I have to tell you."
The silence this time is a curious one, her eyebrows furrowed again.
"Ah, left here." He guides her, almost having to backtrack. Such a small, hard to see turn. It made sense considering the man they were going to see, but still. His heart is still in his throat over the information, but he tries to stifle it. Iris couldn't be told about her parents where anyone could see her break down, even he wasn't terrible enough to do that.
"What is it? Couldn't you have told me earlier?" Iris asks, tone rising.
Mephisto pulls his hand from her back to spread the bead curtain over the doorway. "Straight ahead Iris, uh, like ten steps."
She shook slightly as she took ten carefully measured steps, ending in the foyer of the royal tailor's domain.
"Iris, welcome to Mavrin's home. He was your parent's tailor, Gramorr let him stay here because he's relatively harmless."
She'd shrunk into herself without him touching her, so he cups her elbow, giving her an anchor.
"Relatively harmless?"
The little man came out of the back, ducking under a half-fallen bookshelf with a cackle. "Mephisto my boy! Back for a new uniform? Your sister was here first thing this morning, bragging about the position!"
The room was an explosion of color and fabric. How the little man found anything, Mephisto would never be able to guess. He simply made amazing clothing, sturdy and light and comfortable and safe. Everything he'd worn from the man had been too strong to rip and too resistant to stain, more impervious than he was.
Mephisto moved his hand and stood behind Iris instead, resting his hands on her shoulders. "Actually I'm here for someone else. Mavrin! Meet-"
"Princess Izabela?" He guessed, coming closer with his eyes squinted and peering closely. "My, I don't forget a face, and that's a beautiful face."
Iris hunched her shoulders, half stepping back towards Mephisto. "I- how do you know that name? I don't go by that anymore."
"Ah! But you used to. Before you remembered. Such cute cheeks, you liked when people tugged on them. A cute laugh!" He turned and laughed himself, the sound much less charming from someone with hair sticking out of his head like a yarn doll that's been tossed into a static storm.
Iris half turned to look at Mephisto, but he couldn't do anything other than shrug, then wince when he realized she couldn't see it.
He hadn't even known that name.
"So what brings you!" Mavrin yells, tape measure already in hand. "A uniform? A wedding gown? Something stylish?"
"Actually," Mephisto interjected. "A whole wardrobe. It's Iris' first time on Ephedia," he may have been embellishing on that point. "And she's never gotten to experience fashion from here before. And you're the only person I trust to make anything."
Mavrin looked between him and Iris, then beamed so wide it had to hurt his face. "A project! A project! It's been so long since I had one of those!"
He's immediately holding his measuring tape against Iris, whispering the numbers so they can float by his head in pale teal magic. He jumps onto crystal construct steps to get all of them, maneuvering Iris as he needed and ignoring any protests.
Mephisto made sure to keep a hand on Iris at all times, worrying from the wobble in her bottom lip that she'd start crying again.
And soon enough Mavrin is done, the cloud of numbers around his head clouding his vision.
"Any particular colors?" He calls as he disappears where he'd first appeared from.
Mephisto stepped closer to Iris, hand on her lower back again. "Uh… Pink, purple, gold, white, black…. And green."
Iris furrowed her eyebrows.
He had the sudden urge to kiss her forehead, but swallowed it, ruffling her hair instead.
She winced and he wanted to feel bad. Instead he just murmured "Sorry" and half turned, leading her into the hallway.