Page 11 of Jeweler to the Blessed
She took my hand and squeezed it in her lap. Her grip was light, as if she lacked the strength to do more.
“Be careful, Ember.” She wiped at the droplet with one hand.
“What’s wrong?”
She shook her head. The hand that still held mine squeezed again.
“The meal is ready,” Father called from the living space.
I wanted to push Mother further, but she shook her head again as if responding to my unspoken prod.
“Do you want to come out for breakfast? Or should I bring you a plate?”
She let me go, her hands bracing on the arms of the chair as she strove to rise from her seat. My heart broke anew as she tried, but her body wasn’t lifting. Her strength must be at an all-time low.
I swallowed thickly, working to clear the emotion from my voice before I spoke. “I’ll bring you some.”
After delivering the food and fleeing her room, I quickly ate my own. It was time to open the shop, and though unease about Alaric sat heavy in my stomach, the youngleaf, theOldwood, and leaving my home, I was ready to complete my last day of work as a jeweler in Kavios. It would be a bittersweet accomplishment to finish the final rings. As with the one for Jasmine, I knew they’d get used at tomorrow’s festival. I just wouldn’t be there to see it.
4
Are we really going to let her leave? They need her to choose.
— ALARIC SARE’S LETTERS TO ISABELLE ARKOVA
Rising early had become second nature. My last day in Father’s shop had been a blur, but we’d completed everything. We’d returned home and I’d gone over my maps and plans again, before falling into bed, exhausted. Today was the day I would leave Kavios, but not without a final visit with Alaric.
The apartment building still slept as I pulled on my gloves, grabbed my cross-body bag, and slipped out the door. I’d wait on coffee until I was at Uncle’s workshop. It gave me more time with him and more to bicker about.
Walking from the apartment toward LowerHill before the sun rose, I couldn’t help but think how different it was from yesterday. The streets were fully decorated for tonight’s Selection Festival. White banners of the Blessed lined Centre Street, and wooden stalls filled every inch of Cross Street.
Tonight, this street would be packed with festival goers, all citizens of Kavios, attempting to fit into too little space. I’d relax once I’d made it out of the city.
The key to Alaric’s workshop was heavy in my pocket. I jingled it in the lock when I opened the door. The noise aimed to alert him of my arrival and pull him from whatever project occupied the earliest morning hours.
Alaric doesn’t have friends. He has projects.
Father’s words repeated in my head. They rang true to my understanding of what Alaric did with his free time. I desperately wanted to believe I wasn’t a project. To allow that hope, I had to keep my mind open to the possibility that Alaric had friends—Blessed friends, even. This led me back to Alaric’s customer yesterday.
Anything to occupy my mind from the silence of the workshop.
“Uncle,” I called softly. The front section was unlit. It wasn’t unusual. We spent our morning sessions in the workspace. There was no need to make the shop windows look inviting.
No rustling of curtains or clinking of glass filled my ears. I froze, realizing the silence was too deafening.
“Uncle,” I called again.
Where was he? Alaric knew I would come today. It would be our last session before I left. He wouldn’t miss it.
“Uncle,” I said with less hope this time as I pushed back the curtain, revealing the workspace I knew would be empty. Nausea threatened as I considered my options.
Alaric was Jeweler to the Blessed. They liked to keep himclose, so he had rooms in Glanmore Castle. Maybe he was still there.
But he’d never not been here when I arrived.
I took a deep breath. Searching for him at the castle was out of the question. Not only would I never be admitted, but it was also the last place Alaric would want me to go. It was crawling with Blessed. I would be searched—touched—before I was allowed to enter.
Tears swelled with my frustration. I closed my eyes, fighting them back. It didn’t look like the place had been searched or contraband found. No matter how much everything inside me said something was wrong, I couldn’t overreact.
