Wordlessly, Shayde grabbed a raw ingot from the worktable, weighing it in his palm before tossing it once and catching itsmoothly. Without hesitation, he stepped forward, snatched a set of tongs, and placed the metal into the fire.
“Why bother with the tongs? Thought fire wielders couldn’t burn?” I chided.
Shayde didn’t acknowledge me, but Balveer did. He cut his eyes toward me, unimpressed. “Fire wielders are only immune to dragonfire. Haven’t you learned anything from Doryan? Plus, he’s wearing tungsten.”
Heat crept up my neck, and I quickly schooled my expression.
His focus remained on the forge. His movements were smooth and precise—unrushed but efficient. He worked the bellows with practiced control, feeding just enough air to the flames to intensify the heat without pushing it too far. The ingot shifted, glowing a deep, molten orange.
Satisfied, Shayde withdrew the metal, laid it against the anvil, and swung.
Clang. Clang. Clang.
The ringing of steel against steel echoed through the smithy, each strike clean, deliberate. He wasn’t just swinging a hammer—he wasshapingsomething, bending raw metal to his will.
Balveer watched, arms crossed over his chest, his expression unreadable. But I didn’t miss the slight raise of his brows.
For once, even he was impressed.
When Shayde finally set the metal down, Balveer reached out to inspect the piece. He ran a thumb over the grain structure, testing the consistency. A low chuckle rumbled in his chest.
“Well, shit,” he muttered. “Youdoknow what you’re doing.”
I sighed dramatically and rolled my eyes.
Balveer ignored me, his gaze still on Shayde. “You ever forge full blades, or just mess around with shaping raw steel?”
Shayde met his eyes evenly. “I can forge a blade, balance it, sharpen it, and fit a hilt better than half the so-called blacksmiths I’ve met.”
Balveer’s smirk widened, and he nodded at me. “I’ll take him.”
Shayde grinned and shook Balveer’s hand.
I scowled and spun on my heel. “Come on, Snake. Gotta show you one more thing.”
He followed as I led him upstairs, the wooden steps groaning beneath us. The second floor was built straight into the stone mountain wall, nearly invisible from the outside unless you knew where to look.
Walking past the three apartment doors, I swung open the last one at the end of the hall. “Here ya go.”
Shayde stepped inside, his sharp gaze sweeping over the space—if you could call it that. A low, single bed sat against the wall, with a small chest of drawers beside it. One tiny window let in a pitiful sliver of light.
He exhaled through his nose, unimpressed. “Who else works at the smithy?”
“Just Balveer.”
He turned, narrowing his eyes. “There are three apartments up here.”
I smiled, all teeth. “Yep. The blacksmith job was Rhodes’s idea. But this? This was mine. Five-star stay, don’t you think?”
His jaw ticked, but he didn’t take the bait. “Where’s the bathing chamber?”
I flicked a finger over my shoulder, casual as ever. “Oh, the only extra chamber is in the vacant apartment.”
Shayde stared at me. “So I can use the bathing chamber in the extra apartment, but not the apartment itself?”
“Exactly.” I leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed. “Look, Scarlet’s the reason you’re even breathing free air right now. Don’t get greedy. Be a good boy, and maybe—maybe—you’ll earn an upgrade.”
His nostrils flared slightly, but he didn’t argue.
