Inside, we were met with stone walls and a long, narrow corridor devoid of windows, with only more heavy metal doors lining the passage.
“Follow me,” she said, leading us deeper into the forge without wasting a moment.
Perhaps we really were disrupting her day.
“How have you been?” Reagan asked as we fell into step behind her.
Niamh glanced over her shoulder, keen eyes taking him in. She didn’t bother with any formalities.
“Busy. Some of our smiths have been sick, so the rest of us have our hands full.”
As we walked past open doorways, Reagan acknowledged several people, some offering brief nods, others too engrossed intheir craft to notice us. The rhythmic clang of hammers and a buzzing noise filled the space, the temperature rising the deeper we ventured inside.
We shed our cloaks just as we stepped into a vast workshop cluttered with tools. Shelves lined the walls, filled with bottles and wooden boxes. A broad workbench stood at the centre, piled with scrolls and scattered accessories. Relics.
“Jane, as you heard, despite herless-than-gentleintroduction, this is Niamh, the leading runesmith in the city,” Reagan said.
“Leading runesmith? Impressive,” I said, meeting the eye not covered by the magnifier. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Niamh.”
“Pleasure is mine. Rune forging is my family’s trade, one I grew up learning,” she replied, her voice a shade flat, like someone who didn’t bother with pleasantries.
“Your family works here as well?” I asked.
“Sometimes. Right now, most of them are in other forges, closer to the mines where the metal is extracted. This is our largest one, with over forty smiths working around the clock now, thanksto this new deal with Erisea,” she said, her tone dry, casting a glance at Reagan.
“I thought you’d be thrilled about the deal,” Reagan countered, his gaze drifting over some sketches on the workbench. He leaned in to inspect them until Niamh snatched the parchment away.
“I am. Doesn’t mean I enjoy the headaches that come with working from dawn to dusk,” she shot back, her dark brows arching before she turned to me. “But we aregrateful to the emissary who remembered that his estate holds plenty of silver for trade and secured us a very lucrative deal. I’ve heard you’re the new emissary, Miss Darling.”
“Call me Jane,” I said, noticing the flicker of her gaze toward Reagan as he idly perused the workshop. My eyesnarrowed, darting between them. “Is the deal what’s giving you headaches?”
Her attention bounced from him to me. “The work, not the deal. That’s just what happens when you forge imbued metal. Nothing I’m not used to. I assume you came to confirm the order’s standing?”
“How perceptive of you,” Reagan said, mockingly familiar.
She grinned, her voice suddenly soft. “Impressing you, my lord, remains one of my life’s greatest pleasures.”
He chuckled, and a sting I had no right to feel pricked at me.
“What can you tell us about the order?” he asked.
“It’s on schedule,” Niamh answered. “Your medallions and the rest will be delivered before the month’s end.”
“Medallions?” I asked, glancing at Reagan.
He smirked, one strong brow lifting in a swift, knowing motion.
“A significant part of Alameda’s order. In fact, here are some akin to yours, Jane.” He gestured toward a heavy metal tray resting in the corner. “Do you want to check them?”
I angled my neck, peering at the tangle of cords and pendants sprawled beside him. “I don’t think I should be touching that,” I murmured.
“Wise choice,” Niamh remarked, giving me a once-over. “Do you know much about imbued relics?”
“No, just bits and pieces. I read that they can cause physical reactions in close proximity after they’ve been recently imbued, like—”
“Headaches,” she finished, her smile turning a tad more genuine. “You’re right.”
Reagan swept in beside me, his voice lower. “I wouldn’t have told you to touch it. I only meant, would you like one of the relics from the deal?”
