Page 29 of Jeweler to the Blessed (Champions of Chaos #1)

Maybe Chaos knew what she was doing after all.

— FROM CHAMPIONS OF KAVIOS

M y palms were sweaty, and my fingers shook nervously as I readied Alaric’s workshop to work the adamas. Each piece from the mines was small, but they still needed to be cut down before I could start preforming. This was the start of my next test. Could I shape the adamas to hold magic?

Alaric had determined that only adamas, as such a hard material, could be used to shape adamas. Any excess stone was returned to the tools used to cut, shape, and polish. He’d made saw blades of adamas for such a purpose.

Hesitation would only give me more time to worry.

As much as I hated it, I knew my instincts would guide me with the stone.

I pulled the blade from its wrap in the drawer and set up the first piece.

Father liked to use a vice to hold the gem in place for the more significant cuts, but Alaric insisted one needed to hold the adamas to feel its true shape.

His method included someone holding the adamas in place while he cut.

I’d never cut the adamas myself.

My experience was with quartz, and the materials were identical to everyone but me and Alaric. Hopefully, that was good enough. I swallowed, and Alaric’s absence hit me again like a punch in the gut. There was no getting around the fact that this part was a two-person job.

I heated the wax to hold the gem securely. There was no time to wish Alaric were here. Whatever led to this situation—it was now mine to deal with.

The professional challenge of the work overtook me. I wanted to prove that I could do this. A new task was exactly what I needed to focus on amid everything else.

In the back of my mind, I knew I’d have to decide at some point what to do with the adamas.

Part of me still wondered if there was any chance I could swap it with quartz—do something to limit the power I granted.

I’d been avoiding the question. If I truly believed the Blessed made a decision the moment they took the adamas, I knew I would be making my own decision the moment I turned adamas rings over to the Glanmores for use.

The gem may not be for me, but I’d judge myself just as harshly for enabling them.

Tonight was the Cornucopia, which meant I had six days to make a choice I could live with.

“Do you need help?” Hart’s low rumble preceded him as he parted the heavy gold curtain, joining me in the workshop area.

I searched his face a bit more boldly than I usually would. “Have you ever done this? ”

A smile curled his lip. “Have you?”

He had me there.

Still, his help would put him … in very close proximity. I sighed. His apology wasn’t an explanation, but it was enough for now. I needed his help, and I had a feeling he knew it.

I waved him over. “Fine. Come hold this.”

His steps were slow as he approached. Almost as if giving me time to change my mind.

I wouldn’t.

“Where do you need me?”

I pointed to the edge of the workbench. “Stand there. Hold this.” I handed him the small metal rod.

I’d melted wax, setting the edge of the stone in it. This gave him at least a few inches of handle instead of holding the stone directly. “Don’t let it slip.”

He nodded.

I pointed to the space beside him, picking up the saw again. “I’m going to stand here.”

“And you’ll be armed,” he said dryly.

I waved the blade before setting to work. “I am. So don’t get any ideas.”

He smirked. “You can’t outlaw ideas. A man can dream.”

I shook my head, attempting to focus on the work and not exactly what the Blessed beside me was dreaming about.

My gloves felt bulky as I let the blade touch the stone.

I usually worked with them off. Part of me knew I’d need to remove them.

If the warmth told me when a stone was adamas, I’d have to follow the heat to shape the stone.

It was the difference between the two gems. Inherently, I knew the more heat, the more magic the stone could contain.

But my hands would need to be uncovered beside Hart to find said heat.

I held Hart’s gaze as I set down the saw and pulled off the gloves, setting them on the workbench beside us .

He paused. “I won’t touch you unless expressly asked.”

No chance of that.

“Ready?” I asked when I’d caught my breath.

“Ready.”

I turned slightly, giving him my back as I angled myself to cut the stone. It felt like every instinct I had should be screaming against this. I shouldn’t leave him unchallenged, inches from my side, but my usual panic wasn’t present.

I may not like Hart’s non-answers, but my body believed I wasn’t in danger.

My gut trusted him, the same gut that wouldn’t let me request another guard.

Steadying breaths slipped from my lips. Hot air on my neck told me he did the same.

Was he uncomfortable? I wanted so badly to look at him, to assess what was hiding behind the forest green of his gaze.

I leaned forward instead, pressing my fingers to the stone, feeling the temperature change across its surface.

There was a warmer section towards the center. That was what I’d need to preserve.

The first cut demanded my complete attention. Any slips would mark more of the stone than I wanted, leaving me less to work with when shaping. I drew the blade across the stone multiple times, creating a groove.

Once I had the line, I started in earnest. Hart’s exhales matched each stroke of the blade. It was a pattern, a connection I didn’t understand until interrupted.

The fracture of breaking glass assaulted my ears. I’d cracked the gem.

Reacting automatically, I reached for the side of the stone connected to the pipe Hart held. My hand touched the gem, steadying it from my error, and before I realized my other mistake, my palm brushed his finger.

Fear flooded me as I became aware of the connection. Heat rushed through me. Purple flashed in my periphery as I lifted my hand and stepped back.

Hart hadn’t moved. His words were calm. He stared at the stone, still holding it in place. “That was all you, Chaos. You better come back and finish this.”

Finally, he turned to look at me. His gaze held a hundred questions, but his words expressed none of them. “It’s a small crack. You can cut it out after shaping.”

I let out a shaky breath and looked at the stone. He was right. Alaric would never have panicked after making such a small mistake. I nodded. “I’ll go again.”

“Good girl,” he said, and I was glad my back was to him. Heat flooded me again, this time curling low in my stomach.

I slid the blade back into the groove and returned to work. His imposing presence at my back had me on edge, but he was right. He’d kept his word. I was the one who’d touched him. I could convince myself I’d imagined a flash of … purple in the gem.

I’d only ever seen a gem flash the color being collected.

I tried to shake off the feeling that I was missing something as the final cut slid through, and the piece of gem broke off.

Hart set down the pipe and stepped back. “All set?”

I nodded. “Thank you.” The two pieces of stone now felt different.

One held the warmth of adamas. The second piece now felt like quartz to me.

It was a small thing, but I couldn’t deny the satisfaction that this had worked.

I guess I didn’t know that it had; there was still room for error as I shaped the stone, but my gut was sure I was on the right path.

Maybe I should be concerned that I was capable of everything the royal family needed, and that this was one more step to granting them more power, but part of me was vindicated. Alaric had never let me do this step, but I’d been so sure that I could .

Hart stared at the gem before raising his gaze to meet mine. “Anytime.”

His face held just as many questions as when he’d approached me on the side street after the attack this morning.

I opened my mouth to ask him something. What? I still wasn’t sure. “Can you power the shaping?”

He tilted his head, unsure what I was asking. I pointed to another circular blade on the workbench. A rod ran straight through it and the workbench, connecting via an arm to a foot pedal beneath the table. “You have to step on the pedal continuously. It spins the blade that I use to shape.”

I pulled out the stool for him instead of looking at his face when I asked.

This wasn’t a task I strictly needed him for.

I could power the blade and shape by myself, but with my nerves all over the place, I didn’t think it wise to do both.

He’d be standing somewhere in the building whether I used him or not.

If I wasn’t worried he would touch me—what was I afraid of?

He raised a brow. “You can’t do both simultaneously?”

I sighed and turned away from him to do the work. “I can.”

He chuckled. “I’m happy to do it, Chaos. I’m just curious.”

The devious slant of his lip when I turned to face him was intoxicating and infuriating in equal measure.

Maybe this was a bad idea. “I can?—”

“No, no,” he said. “I accept. I’m now head stepper in charge of the foot pedal.”

“Are you now?” I was unable to restrain the smile curling on my own lips.

“You’ll see. I have fantastic stamina.”

I cleared my throat, turning away from him so he didn’t see what was surely a flush touching my cheeks. “Just start stepping.”

His low chuckle danced across my skin even as I picked up the piece of adamas still attached to the small metal pipe to start working. The blade spun with each press of Hart’s foot. I waited for it to gain a steady speed before angling the rod and pressing it against the blade.