Twenty-Six - Alan
Twenty-Six
Alan
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Skorsa would end up swimming in nails. They were the only thing I could make without ruining in my present mood. Perhaps I should have just made nothing. After all, there were no orders coming in while everyone adjusted to Powell’s disappearance.
But while I had once spent hundreds of words and countless hours complaining about my father setting me the task of making nails, doing nothing was worse. I wasn’t sure if I counted each swing of my hammer in an effort to avoid thinking or because eventually the monotony let me think clearly. But though my thoughts had cleared somewhat after a full day in the forge, they still circled around in an endless loop.
Mina had lied to me. Used magic on me. She was the Crown Princess of Nemya. She hadn’t trusted me. If I hadn’t cut her off, she might have said she had fallen in love with me.
When I started making nails the second morning in a row, my thoughts twisted into questions. Why hadn’t she told me the truth sooner? How well did I really know her?
A prickling on the back of the neck made me pause mid-swing. I spun around.
She stood framed in the open doors, her hands white-knuckled where they gripped her skirts, her eyes bright .
I turned back to my iron, my blows more forceful than minutes earlier. But the metal cooled, and I needed to return it to the forge. As I did so, I saw Mina in the exact same place from the corner of my eye. I knew, with an understanding of her that I didn’t want to admit I had, that she would wait there all day.
I dropped my tongs on the bench and crossed my arms. “Here to apologize? It doesn’t change what you did.”
She nodded, not the least bit taken aback by my tone. “I know. But that doesn’t negate the fact that I owe you an apology. I’m sorry Alan. I never should have used a charm on you.”
It wasn’t that she had used the charm; I could accept that it had nothing to do with me. But she had hidden the magic from me at every step. That was what tore me apart. She had known what I was going through with Powell. She had known that I was falling for her, even if I hadn’t said the words. There had been so many opportunities, but she had continued lying to me until I forced her hand.
“Now that you’ve taken care of that, you should be on your way. I hardly think a forge is the proper place for a princess to spend her day.”
Her lips trembled, and she reached into her pocket, drawing out a letter sealed with a disc of blue wax. “I won’t try to explain why I made the choices I did now. I know my words are nothing more than an excuse. But if you ever want to understand, it’s all in here. I truly am sorry, Alan.”
She stepped into the forge just far enough to set the letter on a shelf filled with miscellaneous materials. Then she turned and walked away. I watched her until she disappeared from view, but that was all right, because she didn’t look back. I stared at the letter for long moments, then turned back to the forge.
I had nails to make.
I sank back into the rhythm of the forge. This time, I sought to drown out my thoughts with every stroke of the hammer. I wasn’t ready to deal with Mina’s letter. I wasn’t sure I’d ever be ready, but I couldn’t bring myself to throw it in the fire either .
An unknown number of nails later, I turned to grab a fresh bar of iron, only to find the shelf blocked.
“No.” Cole told me, his arms crossed over his chest. “You’re done for the night.”
The words were enough to draw my attention to the lengthening shadows outside the forge. I had worked through the entire day without pause.
“Close up the forge, Alan. It is past time for supper. The south field is fallow this season. We can eat while watching the stars come out, just like old times.”
“Fine, but you’d better be providing the food.” I wouldn’t have to face anyone else out in the south field. If I sent Cole on his way, I’d have to go to the tavern to buy a meal. There was nothing left in the house.
“Don’t worry, I’ve got it covered. Now get moving, I’m hungry.”
I went through my end of day routine, a task that took considerably less time than usual when I had only used a single hammer and set of tongs all day. Within minutes, I was ready to lock up. Cole stepped out into the yard, and I reached out to pull the doors closed, but a scrap of white and blue caught my eye.
Mina’s letter.
Without thinking, I grabbed it from the shelf and shoved it into my pocket. Then I yanked the doors shut and locked them.
Cole grabbed a bag from the ground and slung it over his shoulder. He didn’t say anything, but waited for me to lead the way to the south field. Once there, he pulled things from the bag. He had a wedge of cheese, a loaf of bread, and smoked sausage. I could see there was still something else in the bag, but when Cole didn’t take it out, I ignored it.
We ate in silence, passing the food back and forth as we each tore off chunks of bread and sliced cheese and sausage to go on top. When the last crumb disappeared, Cole sighed, and I knew my reprieve was over .
He reached into the bag once more and pulled out a bottle. He popped off the cap and handed it to me. “Mina heads back to the palace first thing tomorrow.”
I didn’t bother to look at the label on the bottle and took a large swig. Whiskey burned down my throat. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
Taking a second sip—more cautiously this time—I realized that Cole’s words weren’t merely a prod to get me to speak. They were a confirmation that he knew who Mina was. He knew that I had spent the day making nails not because of my frustrations with the village council, or because Mina was leaving, but because she had lied to me.
“That’s fine,” Cole said, grabbing the bottle and taking a sip himself. “You don’t have to talk. But I gave you two days to brood on your own. You’ll have to finish brooding in my presence.”
I rolled my eyes. “Brooding isn’t effective with company.”
“Too bad. Two days is my limit. Look what happened last time.”
I reclaimed the bottle. “When are you finally marrying Gemma?”
As far as topic changes went, it was abysmal. Talking to Cole about marriage did not help me avoid the thoughts I was so desperate to avoid.
“Harvest Festival,” he said, his expression turning soft.
I swallowed more whiskey. “I’m surprised you’ve waited this long. I always thought you’d marry her the day she came of age.” Gemma was a couple of years younger than us, but that still meant she had turned twenty nearly two years ago.
“My parents still needed help on the farm. Gemma didn’t want me to abandon them until Tyler was old enough to shoulder more of the load.”
“It’s hard to imagine you standing behind a shop counter instead of working on a farm.”
“Hah. We all know I’ll be the one moving everything around and carrying boxes while Gemma does the real work. Mistress Penniwell has already informed me that she expects me to carry her basket for her when she shops.”
I snorted. “You sure marrying Gemma is worth it? Mistress Penniwell can talk for hours about nothing.”
“Gemma is worth it,” Cole said, all hints of levity gone. “She makes my entire world brighter just by existing.”
The words hit like a punch to the gut. I knew exactly what Cole meant. Mina had brought brightness into my life, too. But that light had dimmed. I no longer knew if the woman I had fallen for actually existed.