#iris smythe smith ( inspo ).

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bio & verses for iris

VERSE i ( default )

Iris Smythe-Smith had always been peculiar. If her family’s reputation in London’s high society wasn’t enough to bring embarrassment to her, then surely her mother’s choice of names for her daughters would. As if only to add to the mix, Iris was the only one of her sisters–and the only one in the whole of London, it seemed– that had been born with leucism. While the rest of her sisters donned light brown or strawberry blonde hair, Iris had been born with almost white hair, nearly translucent in the light. Her eyelashes and eyebrows matched, looking practically invisible from afar. Her skin was ghostly pale and her eyes, although a remarkable shade of violet, weren’t in the best working condition. She could see, of course, but her vision was generally poor and her aversion to sunlight didn’t help. And if all of these things weren’t enough to make Iris Smythe-Smith the oddest one in the room, her confusing taste in men surely would. 

She liked boys. There had been plenty of boys growing up that Iris had found cute. Not cute enough to talk to, unless they were related to her in some way, but cute enough to admit. Normally, she was forced to listen to her younger sister Daisy gawp about all the boys that she thought were attractive–and often men she found handsome as well, ones far too old for her young, un-debuted sister. She didn’t mind holding hands with them, or even kissing them, but the thought of marrying any of them never excited her the way it did for her sisters–and for the rest of society. When Iris closed her eyes and thought about her wedding day, it was always fuzzy. Most girls imagined it perfectly, right down to the floral arrangements at the doorway. But when she tried to imagine her groom, or any of the qualities she might like in one, her mind drew a blank. This wasn’t that much of an issue, her sister Rose assured her, not when love was often unexpected. The problem lied in the fact that Iris, while she couldn’t begin to imagine a groom for herself, had no issue imagining a bride for herself. 

When she saw pretty girls–and she saw quite a lot of them–Iris imagined what they’d look like in wedding dresses and veiled, their skin powdered to perfection and a twinkling ring on their finger. She imagined what it would be like to hold their hand, or kiss them. She imagined what a life with them might look like, in a world where such fantasies were allowed to come true. She liked boys, yes, but she liked girls far more. 

VERSE ii ( extended, for plotted only )

So, when Sir Richard Kenworthy appeared with a plan of his own to snag a wife in record time, Iris saw it as a perfect opportunity. He was handsome, far too handsome for someone like her, but, more importantly, he was interested in her. The courtship had been short but Iris was almost positive that she would receive a proposal by the end of it, and her time on the marriage market and in the dreaded Smythe-Smith Quartet would be over. But Richard wasn’t convinced that she’d accept such a proposal so soon, so he made a show of compromising her in front of witnesses to secure their union. If it were anyone else, she’d be angry, but Iris knew it was almost better this way. 

And, to her own surprise, she began to harbor feelings towards her husband. But her desire for more still clung on. Her gaze still lingered a little too long on ladies, on their lips and hands, and their presence in her mind lasted far too long for a proper married woman.

! SPOILERS AHEAD ! ( i.e. if you have any interest in reading the book & don't want one of the main twists spoiled, don't read further )

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VERSE iii ( canon-divergent ending, not spoiler-free )

The timeline in which Iris and Richard go through with their scheme to adopt his sister’s illegitimate child as their own. Iris fakes a pregnancy and, when Fleur gives birth, she raises it as if it were her own.

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♡ iris smythe-smith ♡