Page 12 of The Blacksmith

“Very good, smith. Lady Emmeline will thank you for it.”

He nodded. “Then I am well pleased.”

Without looking her way, Lance turned and left the hall, silently thanking Lady Idalia for her assistance.

If only he could thank her properly, he would gladly do so.

Chapter 5

Though Idalia had been holding her mother’s hand for some time, sitting beside her bed in the wooden visitor’s chair, her mother had not awoken or even stirred. Idalia had begun to fall asleep herself, exhausted from the feast the day before, when a slight squeeze of her hand forced her eyes open.

“You appear tired,” her mother said, her voice cracking. She tilted her head toward the sole window in the chamber. “’Tis evening.”

Idalia wasn’t sure how her mother knew since the sole window in the room was nearly always shuttered at her request. The light hurt her eyes, making the pain in her head worse.

“Aye, Mother.”

Still holding her mother’s hand, Idalia reached over to pick up the remarkable iron bracelet that sat on the table next to her mother’s bed.

“A gift for the lady of Stanton,” she said.

Her mother took it with her free hand.

“From?”

“The new smith. An offering for the Gule of August.”

She watched as her mother turned it over in her hand.

“What is the engraving?”

Twisted in the center with two flat pieces on each end, it was as beautiful a piece as Idalia had ever seen. “It looks like a circle to me.”

She’d been tempted to ask the one man who knew for certain, but it did not seem a good enough reason to visit the forge. While it was true she’d spent quite a bit of time there when Roland was alive, Master Lance was not Roland. And if her father had disapproved of her visits before, he would certainly do so now.

She hadn’t realized her mother was watching her.

They’d looked quite a bit alike once, but her mother’s illness had taken a harsh toll. When the whites of the countess’s eyes had begun to take on a yellow tint, the physician had suggested they consult a priest.

“I’m sorry to have missed the feast.” She handed the bracelet back to her. “Your father must have been surprised by his offering.”

Idalia nodded. “Indeed.” She placed the bracelet back on the table.

“What is he like, the new smith?”

She grasped her mother’s frail hand once again. There was a time, not long ago, these pains came and went, naught but an inconvenience. A time when her grip had still been firm and strong.

That time had passed.

“He is . . .”

Handsome. Intense. He makes my heart feel like it’s dropping down to my stomach every time I see him.

“Kind.”

Idalia squirmed in the wooden chair as her mother watched her.

“Kind?”