A/N: Hi all! sorry for the late upload :( This whole pandemic has been a bit of a pain - but here is the next chapter! To my new followers - welcome, I hope this keeps you going until the next instalment :)

italics paragraphs are Lady Whistledown and any familiar speech is from the series!

As always, I only own Iris and her interactions - everything familiar belongs to Shonda (as this follows the Netflix series).

In a town filled with ambitious mamas and fortune hunting gentlemen, marrying above one's station is an art form indeed. But Miss Daphne Bridgerton's advance from future duchess to possible princess is an advancement that even this jaded author must applaud.

The afternoon of Lady Trowbridge's event had arrived, and found Iris perched on the end of Daphne's bed, attempting to calm the young woman.

Daphne paced the room, the skirt of her nightdress twirling around her ankles, the dazzling necklace gifted to her by the Prince sat twinkling merrily upon her dresser.

Daphne could not turn fully without catching the sparkle of the diamonds and whenever she did, she immediately whirled back around, her breath hitching.

The day she had come back from the palace with her gift from the Prince, Hyacinth had almost pounced on her as she came through the door. Hyacinth clutched a crumpled copy of Lady Whistledowns' latest rag and Iris struggled to keep her face calm and passive as she ushered Hyacinth back to her governess and ensconced herself in Daphne's room with her dear friend.

Though this author cannot dismiss the Duke of Hastings quite so soon. He may have let the diamond slip through his fingers for now, but I shall wager he is not a man to ever hide from a fight.

Iris had spent a large amount of time with Daphne following that, and the boxing match. Iris herself was both terrified and besotted with Anthony and they had both agreed to keep quiet of their courting and Iris was constantly dizzied with emotions whenever she thought about him.

Bringing her thoughts and attentions back to Daphne, Iris rose from her perch on the end of Daphne's bed and approached the wardrobe. Gently thumbing through the rich fabrics while awaiting Daphne to begin a rant, a notion of a thought, whatever she decided, Iris would be present and supportive.

Gently, Iris settled on a champagne coloured gown for Daphne, and brought it out to lay it on the bed for the evening's ball. She paired it with a black ribbon to be worn about the bust and a black bow to adorn Daphne's long locks.

Daphne smiled approaching the bed and nodded approvingly. "Do you think I should wear black gloves? Or white?" she asked, gently running her fingertips along the decadent fabric. Iris hummed and fetched a pair of both to the dress and laid them beside the dress and tilted her head thoughtfully as she took in the contrast of both sets to the dress.

Eventually, Iris pointed at the white silk gloves and nodded, happy with the decision. Iris turned to find a seat when Daphne stopped her, catching her hand.

"Iris, what is happening between you and my brother?" Daphne asked, directly. Iris studied Daphne carefully, unsure how to answer. Daphne shook her head, a fond smile on her face, "I know how you feel about him," she began, leaning against the bedpost as she eyed her friend, "one must be blind not to see it in your features every time you see him," she rambled, but then sat beside Iris solemnly, "I do not want you to get hurt, you mean very much to me and I know Anthony has had his history with that woman, but I do not wish to see him hurt you," she smiled sadly. Iris squeezed her hand in thanks and nodded, her cheeks burning.

"Daphne, what I tell you now has to remain in confidence, as we have both sworn not to tell another. The only reason I am explaining to you now is to prove that I am serious about this – Anthony and I have begun a courtship. It is in its very early stages, which is why we have not told anyone, and we have not made any declarations or promises to one another either, it is all so new" Iris turned a little to stare at the window, "We will be discussing further this evening, if we can find a moment to enjoy some privacy at the ball," Iris finished nodding at Daphne's questioning gaze.

Immediately, Daphne sprang and dragged Iris to her own room, where Daphne pulled out a plum coloured gown, with patterns of golden leaves shimmering on the bodice and laid it upon the bed, "then you must wear this!" she declared, leaving no room for arguments. Iris smiled softly and nodded, sitting at her mirror and picking up her hair brush, "then we must set to making ourselves unrefusable this evening, dearest," Iris challenged.

Daphne nodded and set about preparing for the ball. Iris hummed as she heard Lady Bridgerton enter Daphne's rooms and began to dress herself.

As we all know, there is nothing this author loves more than a scandal, and tonight's soirée promises more than its fair share, courtesy of the recently widowed Lady Trowbridge. Some may call her celebrations too provocative, and I would caution any young lady from getting caught up in the sensual natures of her fêtes. For one scandalous move between an unwed couple, a wayward touch, or heaven forbid, a kiss, would banish any young lady from society in a trail of ruin.

Iris stood with Daphne, both in dark, glittering shawls as they watched dancers. Iris spotted Cressida Cowper's approach and narrowed her eyes at the blonde haired woman. Her hair had been braided in an elaborate way with pink rosebuds dotted here and there to complement the dusky rose colour of her gown.

"Daphne, Iris," she announced herself regally as she slipped between them both, "you both look beautiful, as always," she smiled eyeing up the gowns with ill-concealed envy.

"Thank you, Cressida," Daphne answered for them both. Iris merely scanned the room, looking for Anthony, as eager for their upcoming conversation as she was merely to see him again.

Suddenly, Cressida's earnest voice crept into Iris's awareness, "you could have chosen anyone, Daphne," she began, "you have gentlemen lined up to pay you tribute." Iris watched the young woman carefully, to see where she was going with her spiel.

Cressida stood taller over Daphne and narrowed her eyes spitefully, "yet you did not hesitate to steal my chance for happiness away, did you?" she sneered.

Iris shook her head and stepped up beside Daphne, "you did yourself no favours, swooning like a simpleton, Cressida. His Highness values intelligence, of which Daphne has plenty."

"I knew the marriage market would make rivals of us," Cressida continued, ignoring Iris, causing the woman to bristle, "but I never thought you capable of being my enemy." Cressida looked to say more, but Daphne cut in, "the man made his choice, Cressida," she admonished, causing Cressida's expression to fall – her pretty pout gnashing in indignation, "what did you expect me to do?" Daphne questioned her, her dainty eyebrows raised at such a question even having to be asked.

Iris remained mute at this, as she had not wholly agreed with Daphne's sudden and almost determined pursuit of the Prince, but hadn't been in any position to offer advice since she had begun to believe she would remain an old Maid forever.

Cressida pursed her lips as Daphne smiled and approached the Prince, before finally turning back to Iris, "at least I never needed to worry about you," she sneered.

Iris smiled a large and pretty smile at Cressida, enjoying how she faltered at the gesture, before catching Anthony's eye from across the room. She dropped into an elegant curtsey, the skirts of her dress neatly arranged around her, the golden leaves winking in the candlelight as her curls hung about her shoulders, back and waist like a glimmering halo, she raised her hazel gaze to Cressida, raising to take Anthony's offered hand, casually leaving Cressida silently, as happiness bubbled up inside her.

She didn't need to care about people, she was with Daphne and she was with Anthony, and she felt beautiful under his sharp eyed gaze as his brown eyes roved over her figure and felt a warmth inside her chest and a flutter in her stomach as as his gaze turned hard and his grip on her hand tightened.

He turned to face her as they reached the dancefloor and he took her in his arms, holding her slightly closer than appropriate, his thumb setting the skin at the base of her neck ablaze as they waited for the music to begin.

Thankfully a waltz began and Anthony began moving her expertly around the floor. Each time their eyes met, Iris had to focus to breathe correctly.

"Iris..." Anthony began, taking a breath as though to steel himself, "you look incomparable this evening," he breathed.

Iris flushed and accepted his comment demurely. Anthony squeezed her hand in his to gain her attention, "do not be coy with me, Iris. I mean it," he breathed softly but firmly, to ensure she understood him, but also so that no others could hear them.

"We need to discuss our situation," Anthony began, and Iris's head snapped up to his, "Here?" she interrupted, "now?" she added shyly, her heart hammering in her chest as he twirled her to the music.

Anthony nodded, his expression fond, but serious. He opened his mouth to continue, when the voice of the singer carried over the crowd, the notes of Bella Nuit spreading over the room. Anthony froze, his eyes going wide as he turned his head to the stage and met eyes with his former mistress, Miss Sienna the Soprano.

Iris could not help the ripple of sadness which tore through her as she detangled herself from Anthony, ignoring his curiosity and dipped a curtsey, "excuse me," she called out softly, before stepping away and leaving him stood transfixed, between the alluring Sienna and his budding feelings for Iris.

Steeling himself, Anthony made his decision, stood straight, and followed after Iris, the hems of her plum gown disappearing through the doorway at the edge of the ballroom.