Page 79 of Jeweler to the Blessed
We didn’t have unlimited time. The Selection events continued, leading up to the King’s Blessing. Today, we collected more adamas—the four gems needed to be ready for the Presentation. I could finish the settings and rings the day after. Technically, that was the day of the Masquerade, but it wasn’t an event that required the jeweler. It was more of a debauched celebration of the Blessed, welcoming new members into their circle of opulence.
I unlocked the door to the workshop with cautious optimism. Maybe a plan would take shape with more information on both of these topics. One that didn’t risk my family. I was almost too excited to worry about the walk through the Oldwood this trip required.
Or maybe I didn’t worry because Hart would be with me.
I grabbed my bag from the back of Alaric’s workshop. “Do we need anything else today?”
Tamara, the mine foreman, had said I’d do more than sort gems this time. I couldn’t help but expect to go through the locked door. I desperately wanted to know what was inside.
“They should let you into the adamas cavern. But I don’t think you need any tools besides your hands.”
I turned to face him as I leaned against the workbench. “And what is the order of operations for our journey?”
His brows raised. “You really want to go?”
The hesitation in his voice made me realize I wasn’t the only one unsure of our alliance. I nodded.
He looked conflicted. “You don’t owe me anything?—”
“Can you give me a hint about where we’re going?”
His lip tilted into a smile as I ignored his objections. “It’s … well, it’s a settlement in the foothills.”
“A settlement?” I couldn’t imagine how that was possible.
Someone should know, shouldn’t they? I guessed if the king made everyone so calm that they didn’t care about the outside world, maybe this was proof that it was working exactly as intended.
Hart’s excitement was growing. “We should be able to get there and then over to the mines this morning if you’re sure. It’s not too far out of the way.”
He looked almost boyish. Except anyone looking into his eyes wouldn’t mistake him for a youth. His gaze held knowledge, sadness, and desperation that only came with age.
A question formed on my lips. It slipped out before I could stop myself. “How old are you?”
I’d had my hands on his chest last night, and in the heat of the moment, I hadn’t checked for an adamas pendant. My cheeks flushed. That uniform hadn’t hidden anything.
Was there any chance he wasn’t Blessed?
Hart laughed. “No need to be that honest with each other, Chaos.” He turned to leave.
“Hart, I’m serious.”
I took pride when his head dropped back, looking at the ceiling. When he asked a goddess for patience in dealing with me, I knew I was on the right track. “I’m old.”
“Older than Alaric?”
“Yes,” he grumbled.
Alaric wasn’t so old, just over fifty, but older and looking the way Hart did proved he was Blessed.
“One hundred?” Now, I wouldn’t be satisfied until I had the answer.
He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Older.”
Even if I couldn’t see the ring, it was there somewhere. I wasn’t sure why I was trying to prove to myself that maybe … he wasn’t.
I sighed. “A hundredand fifty?”
He turned and gave me a knowing glance. “Two hundred and twenty.”
