Page 55 of Jeweler to the Blessed
“What do you want?” I said with as much strength as I could muster. I’d only get one swing with my dagger. I had to make it count if he approached.
“Fucking Chaos.” He let his hands fall to his side. “I just saved your life. Again. I’m not trying to kill you.”
I knew that was correct, but it didn’t make sense. I wouldn’t be satisfied until he answered it all. “Why? Why not let them have me? Why not kill me yourself?”
He pointed to the street, indicating my attackers. “First of all, those were no Feared I’ve ever seen.” He ran his hand through the strands that fell from the knot at the back of hishead. “Second, I’m not going to kill you. I don’t know what else to do to prove that.”
“Why are you helping the Feared?”
He arched a brow. “I’m not sure it matters.”
His anger stoked my own, though I worked to keep my features even. “You’re giving me no reason to trust you!”
He threw his head back and laughed. Still staring at the ceiling, he spoke. “Maybe it’s better if you don’t.”
When his gaze finally returned to mine, his shoulders lowered, and disappointment coated his slow movements. He shook his head, breaking our standoff. “I’ll be outside.”
He exited the building and stood sentry beside the front door.
What was that?
My head spun as the water finally started to boil. I calmed my shaking hands with the familiar ritual of pouring the hot water over the grounds. Hart had told me nothing. He’d admitted my fear but had given no information to help me understand.
He had saved me again, though.
Goddess, I was so sick of him. In no world would I let him weaponize my guilt. Should I ask for another guard? A gnawing in my gut said I didn’t want to, and it stoked my anger all over again.
As soon as the coffee was ready, I took a scalding sip. I was unsurprised when it did not grant its usual calm. Discussing Hart’s motives was exactly the kind of discussion I would usually have with Alaric, but he wasn’t here.
I sighed. My original plan had been to use the time without Hart to search Alaric’s storage room. The morning had taken a very different shape, but at least Hart stood outside. He would alert me if anyone tried to enter. I pulled the curtain closed and set a scene at Alaric’s worktable. A stack of books, a coffee cup,the stones, and the tools for cutting and shaping. All evidence I’d been hard at work should I need to let someone in quickly.
I granted myself another sip of coffee before letting myself into the storage room.
The organizational structure likely only made sense to the two of us. It was first by genre and second by topic.Champions of Kavioswas stacked atop the pile of histories. Alaric must have put it in his preferred location. I picked it up and flipped through its pages as I considered what to look for first.
Alaric answered the question for me: a note fell from between the book’s pages, his familiar script evident even in the dim light of the closet-like room.
When I stooped to collect the paper from the floor, the bell rang in the front of the workshop.
Quickly, I slipped the paper back into the book. I would have to come back later. I shut the door and secured the shelf entrance. It looked like nothing was there. Parting the curtain, a group filed into the shop with another guard in the lead. Hart nodded to him as they entered.
I grabbed Alaric’s sketchbook from the workbench and readied for my first customers.
The new guard announced the group. “These are the Selected. They are here to be fitted for the rings.”
Hart slid in the door behind them. No matter how angry he was, he seemed unwilling to leave me in the shop with so many unknowns. I mumbled his favorite curse under my breath as I tried to figure out what to do with him. He stood quietly in the corner, avoiding my gaze.
“Welcome. I’ll be happy to take care of each of you.”
I was unsurprised that three of the four Selected were relatively young. It was just as the miner had guessed—the children of Blessed families would take most of the slots.
The final Selected was a woman in her mid-forties. She looked vaguely familiar, but I didn’t know her name. She had medium brown skin and black hair tied back at her nape. Even through her apparent nerves, her smile lit up the room.
She appeared more than happy to be the king’s rags to riches story, giving the rest of us hope that someday we could be Blessed too.
Nausea roiled in my stomach. How complacent were the citizens in Woodside because of this one opportunity?
I pulled the tray of sizing rings from beneath the counter. “We’ll test these on each of you to see what fits best.”
