CHAPTER 25 #2
“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, thanks to 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 are grateful 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 eyes narrowed, 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?”
I shook my head and turned to Niamh. “Would you mind telling us the other items included in Erisea’s order?”
She tilted her head toward a sheet of paper resting on the counter behind her.
“We have brooches, hairpins, pendants, lockets, charms, signet rings, and ear cuffs. Each of those with a specific rune carved, and some of them blended for completely different purposes: charm warding, memory holders, nullifying relics, location relics.” Her eyes met mine. “Is that what you were expecting?”
“That sounds about right,” I said, recalling our last dinner before we left. “Alameda Barrows was truly impressed with Mountheim’s runesmiths.”
“We’re the best in the country,” she assured.
“I have no doubt.”
A kernel of satisfaction surged in me. I’d enjoyed learning about the trades in Erisea, and hearing about the order was strangely compelling, especially those with relics I’d been reading so much about.
That Reagan thought I could be a decent emissary felt like more than validation. Perhaps more than just decent.
“Could you direct me to a washroom?” I asked.
“Down that corridor, third door on the left,” she answered, eyes back on her work.
“Thank you,” I said, leaving the room.
The scent of metal was pungent, and I could easily see how it could provoke a headache. I made my way down the corridor, hoping cool water on my face would help. Until I was pulled into a small alcove and pressed against the stone.
Reagan braced his arms on either side of my head, his voice edged with smoke.
“I came to see if I could assist you with anything,” he murmured.
“In the washroom?” I asked, arching a brow.
Reagan’s low laugh curled through the dim corridor. “Or right here. Any questions about the deal? Any assurance you need?”
His tone made it quite clear what type of assurance he offered.
“Niamh reassured us enough, and you seem to know her well. I assume you trust her.”
His eyes flickered, studying me. “Yes, you can trust her, too.”
I held his gaze. “Great. I’m glad the deal is working out and that you brought me here. Niamh seems competent.” I blinked. “And where does she think you are?”
He shrugged, his head dipping toward mine. “Around. She didn’t even notice I’d left.”
I doubted that.
“She calls you Reagan,” I said before he could kiss me.
I had no idea why I said it.
His head lifted, attention snapping fully back to me. “Sometimes,” he said. “So do others in unofficial meetings. Something you never seemed to notice.” His mouth curved faintly. “Or object to.”
“That’s a leap,” I replied coolly. “I just noticed that you seemed friendly.”
He clicked his tongue softly. “I would believe you,” he said, “if I didn’t pay such close attention to you.” His hands slid up my waist. “I know how you sound when you are indifferent. And this isn’t that. If I had to guess, I would say this is what jealousy sounds like on you.”
His gaze held mine, unwavering.
Reagan was skilled at reading me. “Do I have a reason to be jealous?”
An innocent question.
The scent of cedarwood overpowered the metallic tang in the air. Reagan grinned.
“Seems like you don’t remember what I told you. How you drive me out of my mind. How badly I want you. So why don’t I make it perfectly clear?” His mouth hovered a breath from mine. “I can have you right here, so I’m covered in your scent and thoroughly claimed.”
I considered it, insane as that was, my fingers tangling in the hair at his nape. “Can she smell me on you?”
“If we do it right, she will,” he murmured, his voice thick and wholly dark.
It was so wrong, and it shouldn’t have heated my blood as it did.
I lifted my chin, aware of his gaze sliding to my mouth, fully intent on proving his point. But I already knew he didn’t care about anything else when we were together. Neither did I, and I didn’t need proof.
“I don’t want to annoy the lead smith in my deal,” I whispered. “You should go back. I’ll find the washroom. Alone.”
He gave a disappointed hum. “Such exemplary work ethic,” Reagan said, winking at me and stalking back down the corridor.
We didn’t linger long after confirming the details of the deal. Niamh was eager to shove us out the door so she could return to her work. But I was still sure I caught something in her gaze when she looked at him. Interest, maybe even longing. All of it, and from someone he could actually be with.