Iris's Cross Medallion

Iris took the longest to get right. I wanted a medallion that felt old-world — the kind of thing that might have come from a reliquary in southern Italy, heavy with meaning but worn casually over a t-shirt. The cross grows outward into these leaf-like arms, each one set with a different coloured stone. Pink, green, blue, clear. It catches the light differently depending on the angle and it's never the same twice. It's not subtle. It was never meant to be. Named after Iris, who has always chosen the most complicated version of everything, and has never once regretted it.