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“I would never.”
She thinks for a moment. “Maybe just a bite. It’s probably not even good. Maybe if I just sampled it… for more fuel for my anger…”
“That’s very wise,” I say, fighting a laugh.
She uses her fork to break off a section and brings it to her lips. “Ugh,” she says.
“It’s bad?”
“Worse. It’s really good.”
She pulls the tray close and eats the rest without a word.
My hammers stay hidden in the forge until I’m able to finish a new belt. It hangs low around my waist with perfectly measured holsters, one on each hip. The shafts slide into the holsters, so the hammers are positioned heads up. Their weight is evenly distributed, and I can now carry Echo and Agony with me effortlessly wherever I go.
I can’t seem to stop smiling.
The new safety that comes with these hammers is partially the reason, of course, but I also know it’s more than that. I’vespent a couple weeks with Abelyn now, working on the guards’ armor and equipment. It was the first time in as long as I can remember that I did my job as a smithy without imbuing metal with magic.
And it was fine.
It wasn’t quite the same as what I used to do, but I still felt useful and at home in a way.
Maybe there is a place for me here in the long run. I could open up my own forge in the capital. There’s plenty of space on the palace grounds. Or maybe I’d get my own place in town, visit Temra on the weekends.
After we deal with Ravis.
It will be different, but I don’t have to hate my life. I don’t have to spend it without Temra.
There’s a new bounce in my step as I make for the great hall just in time for supper. It’s more packed than ever with all the new city folk occupying the palace and its courtyard, but Kellyn stands out like a beacon. He’s a full head taller than anyone else in the space, and his golden-red hair practically dances in the candlelight.
He’s surrounded by men wearing the guard uniform. They’re laughing loudly in between mouthfuls of rabbit stew.
He’s made some friends. Good for him.
I don’t think Abelyn counts as a new friend, since we don’t really talk, just work. But I’ll take it. Better than nothing.
Then I see it.
An open spot directly on Kellyn’s right.
Could he be saving it for me?
Stupid. It’s not like his every waking thought is about you.
But what if it is for me? It would be rude to pass it up.
And what if it’s not for you? How awkward will it be whenhe says he’s saving it for someone else? Then all those men will laugh as you walk away.
No one is going to laugh. It’s not funny.
Yes, but you’re thinking through worst-case scenarios. And being made fun of is always the worst.
So which am I afraid of more, then? Offending Kellyn or making an idiot of myself?
I turn away. I can’t possibly set myself up for such a spectacle.
But Kellyn wants an equal partner. And you want him.
