I need to be direct. Confident. If there’s any hint of uncertainty from me, he’ll likely keep hounding me. So I raise my gaze, look the scholar firmly in the eye. “I’m certain. I have no desire to be questioned or to have my life scrutinized.”
Then I pick up my fork and knife and start cutting pieces out of the roast lamb. I try not to repeat what I said in my head. I don’t want to fixate. I don’t want to worry. I just want to enjoy my dinner.
Petrik rises without another word. Instead of retreating back to his table, he exits the restaurant altogether.
Good riddance.
“Can you believe him?” Temra says.
“I know,” I say. “How many times do I have to say no for him to understand?”
“What? Oh, right. But also, he completely ignored me! Rude. He just used me in the beginning of the conversation to get to you.”
That’s a first. People usually mistakenly try to talk to me to get closer to my pretty sister.
“He’s gone now,” I say, and I finally take a bite of the mouthwatering food. It’s delicious, as always.
Temra only dips her spoon in her soup, never actually bringing it to her lips, her mind clearly still on the strange encounter.
“Don’t worry about it,” I tell her. “Soon I’ll have enough money for us to leave Ghadra and retire in the northern continent. He won’t be able to track us down there.” We’ve been talking about it for years, ever since I opened my own business. The northern continent is beautiful, and few people can afford to live there. No one will know who I am. No one will seek me out for weapons. I love what I do, but I’d prefer forging for no one but myself. When I finally have a comfortable amount for Temra and me to be set for life, we’ll leave behind this place and settle somewhere out in the country. Just the two of us. It’s all I want. To feel safe all the time and never worry if someone is going to surprise me with a social visit when I haven’t mentally prepared myself.
I do very well for myself as the only magical smithy in existence—at least I’ve never heard of another one.
People seek me out from all over the world for weapons. Some have been for nobles who want to boast their wealth and superiority. Others have been high-ranking officers of private armies. City and castle guards receive small salaries, so I’ve never had one of them grace my doors.
But the bulk of my customers?
They’re mercenaries.
Sellswords.
Fighters for hire.
There’s been a high demand for them in recent years.
Our former sovereign, King Arund, had a bit of difficulty with his younger brother, who constantly tried to usurp him and steal his throne. The story goes that the king eventually had to sentence his brother to death after a failed assassination attempt on his life. He loved his brother dearly and hated that the crown had come between them.
In an attempt to do away with future familial animosity, Arund decided he would divide the kingdom of Ghadra between his six beloved children.
New boundaries were drawn. Six territories arose, each named after the prince or princess who rules it. Ghadra became divided.
And opportunities arose for unsavory sorts.
It was only a decade ago that the split happened, and there were many who took advantage of it. Bandits have become more common than flies on the roads. They move from territory to territory, making it impossible for any one ruler to stop them. No one wants to allocate men or funds toward criminals when they’re no longer in their territory. Then there’s the problem of six new rulers trying to create their own courts, build their own economies, finance their individual rules.
The people have suffered greatly for the change.
And I’ve heard tales that not all six royal children are content with one little piece of the pie. Rumors abound about revolts and plans for takeover, but that’s all they are at this point. Whispers on the wind.
Regardless, my business has become a necessity, and I make very good money doing it. Countless individuals have tried to hire me as their personal smithy. Given my abhorrence for people, I’ve always refused. Lately, these requests have become more frequent. Knowledge of my abilities has started to spread to the far reaches of Ghadra. Probably because I’ve been taking on more commissions lately, trying to reach our goal faster.
Temra and I are so very close to being able to leave. Just two more years, I think. If I want to be able to retire and afford the higher cost of living for myself and my sister for the rest of our days, we need a bit more.
“That’s great, Ziva,” Temra says, pulling my mind from images of her and me alone in paradise.
She still doesn’t touch her food.
“Have you given any more thought as to what trade you’d like to commit yourself to?” I ask, hoping to distract her.
“Not really. I love to act in the local city performances, so maybe I could join a traveling troupe someday.”
I don’t see how she would stay with me in the north if she intends to go traversing about for her trade. She clearly hasn’t thought that one through very much.
“Or…,” she hedges, “maybe I’ll do something with weapons. I’ve basically been apprenticing under you my entire life.”
Yes, I like that idea much better. “Of course! There’s always a place for you in my forge.”
“That’s not what I meant. I can’t be in your shadow my entire life, Ziva.”
My shadow? How curious she would put it that way, since it’s always been me who’s tried to hide behind hers.
“You’ll find something that will make you happy. I know it,” I say.
“I’m already happy, but I know I’ll figure out the future, too. What about you?”
“Me?”
“Are you happy?”
My instinctual response is yes, but I pause. I do live in constant fear of others. Sometimes it’s overwhelmingly hard to leave the house.
“I’m happy,” I decide in the end. “I have everything I need. You and my forge. I just wish the rest of the world would disappear.”
“That’d be an awfully empty world.”
“Exactly.”
“Then what need would you have of me, if I’m not scaring away most of your customers?”
“I’d get lonely if it were just me,” I joke.
“And what about me?”
“What about you?” I ask.
“What am I to do while you’re in your forge making weapons for nonexistent people? I can’t be an actress without an audience.”
“You could get a hobby.”
“I have hobbies!”
“I don’t think flirting counts. Besides, there are no men in my world.”
Temra shakes her head in astonishment. “One day, you’re going to fall madly in love. You’ll find someone who will make you want to leave the forge. You won’t even see him coming.”
“The day the world runs out of iron ore will be the day I leave my forge. But even then, I’m sure I could figure out something with copper.”
Temra flicks droplets from her spoon into my face.
CHAPTER
THREE
There is nothing more terrifying than a well-attended party.
“It will be a small affair,” Governor Erinar had said. “Just my family and a few friends at dinner to celebrate Ghadra’s most talented smithy. You must come. I won’t take no for an answer.”
And I, in my haste to get rid of the governor after finishing his mace, agreed.
I wish I’d had it in me to be rude to the man. Instead, I’m stuck at a party that has more than a hundred guests in attendance. Either Erinar is related to everyone in the city or someone really needs to explain to him that his idea of a “small affair” is terribly misguided.
Either way, I’m trapped. As the guest of honor, I can’t escape without notice.
Even now I feel the eyes of those in attendance on me like lions tracking a herd of antelope. I clasp my hands together and fiddle with my fingers.
I will not panic.
I will not run.
I probably won’t die.
Has being social killed anyone in the history of the world? Surely not, but that does not seem to matter to the lead weight in my heart or the buzzing insects in my stomach. My whole body ripples with discomfort at so many eyes on me, at so many people surrounding me.
My sister—bless her!—materializes before me.