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It was a piece that their customer, Madam Renali, would be hard-pressed to find in Taunen, Grimwalt’s capital, rather than lowly Illoa, on the outer edge of the country. And she would pay less for it here than if she’d commissioned it in Taunen.

Melodie didn’t know what price Madam Renali had agreed with Vinest, but she knew she would only get a fraction of it.

She braced her hands on either side of the bench, and studied the piece carefully.

For her, the ring was lacking, but adding the final element was not something she could or would do for a paying customer in Vinest’s shop.

Everything that she made straight—with just gold, silver and gems—seemed lacking these days.

She glanced at the ring on her own finger, which contained the little bit extra she had worked into it, and although it looked less expensive than the commissioned piece she’d just completed, it was worth far, far more, if anyone had known what it was.

She had been weighing the benefits and pitfalls of making these more enhanced pieces for a while.

It went against everything her father had taught her.

It would also mean she would have far more financial security than she currently had.

But financial security would mean nothing if she came to the wrong person’s attention.

She hated having to weigh up her future financial stability with her own safety. And as she stared at the diamond ring she had just finished, she felt anger rising up inside her.

She had tried to bring up how little Vinest paid her with him in so many subtle ways. Round-about mentions of the pay of similar artisans; direct comparisons to other jewelers; everything she could think of.

It was time to be direct. Because she didn’t like feeling this resentment, this fury at the end of a long day’s work, rather than accomplishment for a job well done.

“Melodie. You finished?”

She turned with churning emotions at the sound of Vinest’s voice.

She had lived with him since her father had died when she was sixteen. She was inclined to be loyal to him. But he seemed to think he needed to make her dependent on him to keep her.

She looked directly into his eyes. “I want a higher pay, Vinest.”

He stopped short, squinting at her like she had squinted at her commission only moments before. “Where’s this coming from? I pay you enough.”

“No, you don’t.” She felt a rising pressure in her chest, and realized it was a feeling of betrayal.

It was probably her own fault. When her father had died, Vinest had taken her in, and she had seen him as a member of her family. His refusal to compensate her fairly hurt, because it felt as if her own uncle was cheating her. Except he wasn’t her uncle.

It wasn’t as if she had ever been a drag on his household. She had been useful to him since the day he’d given her the small room at the top of his house, in the eaves. And still, he wanted to squeeze every last drop out of her.

He looked at her warily, skirting around her to look at the ring still clamped in the holder on the bench. “It looks ready.”

“It is.” She drew in a breath. “You don’t pay me enough to live on my own. I am a master jeweler and I cannot afford my own place to stay.”

He turned to look at her, with a slightly surprised, mildly hurt look on his face, and she finally forced herself to admit it was false. He used it every time she tried to push back against him.

“You don’t need a place to stay. You stay here.”

She looked at him in silence for a long beat. Saw a faint glint of cunning in his eye. Then gave a sharp shake of her head.

This argument was over.

She would not convince him, and he would pretend that he was a kind and benevolent boss, because it was very much in his interests to keep her under his roof and working for apprentice wages.

It was time to make another plan.

She turned and headed for the door.