Page 37 of Jeweler to the Blessed
I unlocked Uncle’s workshop and walked inside. As I entered, I bit my lip—it was how I’d left it yesterday. It might seem silly, but my first order of business was watering the plants. I’d skipped it yesterday. When I pressed my fingers into the semi-damp soil of the Oldwood, the dirt’s heat was as familiar as it was unsettling.
How long before they sent me through the Oldwood to the mines?
Unsure how long I’d have before someone came searching for me, I didn’t dare open the storage room. The drawer under Alaric’s workbench held his current projects. He had started the ring bands for the Selected, but without their identities, he hadn’t sized them. At least I could confirm my assumption about our adamas reserves.
Uncle wasn’t one for inventory. When I couldn’t find an adamas stone, I dug through the papers up front. I swore there had been one here two days ago. This only meant I’d have to go to the Oldwood Mine sooner rather than later. I was a little ashamed of the thrill that thought sent through me. Secretly, I’d always wanted to know what the sourcing part of the process was like. I swallowed, thinking about what I’d signed up for with the Glanmores. I knew I could find adamas in the mines, shaping it to wield magic would be a different test. We’d have to cross the bridge at some point.
I tapped the end of a quill against my cheek as I made my list, trying to remember when Alaric last spoke of traveling to the mines. His visitor—my guard—said he’d been seen leaving the Eastern Gate two nights ago. Why go that way if not for the mines? I shook my head. Alaric had whole swaths of his time that I didn’t understand. I couldn’t make any assumptions.
“What are you doing here?” a guard called from the doorway, interrupting my thoughts.
I glanced up, noting the uniform, but knew it wasn’t my guard by voice alone. That should probably have been more concerning, but I let it slide.
“I’m trying to organize Alaric’s things. Prince Elias wants me to take up his work until he returns.”
Another guard filed in behind the first, and they gave each other a suspicious glance. “Howdid you get in here?”
The second guard’s gaze raked over me from head to toe. It wasn’t lingering, but it was certainly uncomfortable.
“As I said, I’m the new jeweler until Alaric returns. I have a key.” I reached for the key from my satchel, which I’d set down on the counter.
The guard halted me. “Don’t move!”
I might be in trouble. As quickly as news had spread to the Feared that I was the new jeweler—these guards seemed in the dark. And I bet they were on edge from last night’s chaos.
I raised my hands in a gesture of peace. “I was just going to show you the key.” I pointed to my bag. “I’m here on Prince Elias’s orders.”
“Sure you are,” one of them replied.
I didn’t need his mocking tone to know he didn’t believe me.
“Ask my guard.” The words flew out of my mouth before I could think them through. I winced at how dumb it sounded. Opening my mouth to try again, I silently cursed myself for not asking my guard’s name last night.
It hadn’t seemed important in light of…everything else.
One of them laughed. “Your guard?”
I held my hand above me to estimate his height. “He’s tall. And broad.” I was rambling. “He has dark hair and a strong jawline, not clean-shaven like the rest of you.”
I was happy my brain had finally latched onto a distinguishing feature. Regrettably, I was less happy when my guard strode through the door next, looking precisely as I’d described him.
He did nothing to hide the smirk on his face.
I silently cursed myself again, wondering how much he’d heard.
Any amount was too much.
“This description is getting good.” His voice filled the room. “Please continue to wax poetic about my jawline.”
His hand moved to his now clean-shaven chin, his finger and thumb tilting it slightly to highlight the angle. “I’m sorry to disappoint. I do have to be presentable with my new assignment.” He held my gaze, my cheeks heating in embarrassment. “But, personally, I like the sound ofmy guard.”
So, he’d heard all of it then.
I wanted to crawl into the secret storage room to die of embarrassment.
He finally acknowledged the two other guards as he said in a conspiratorial tone, “The possessiveness works for me.”
The two guards looked at him, puzzled. “Who are you?” the one on the left asked.
