Page 7 of Jeweler to the Blessed (Champions of Chaos #1)

Are we really going to let her leave? They need her to choose.

— ALARIC SARE’S LETTERS TO ISABELLE ARKOVA

R ising early had become second nature. My last day in Father’s shop had been a blur, but we’d completed everything. We’d returned home and I’d gone over my maps and plans again, before falling into bed, exhausted. Today was the day I would leave Kavios, but not without a final visit with Alaric.

The apartment building still slept as I pulled on my gloves, grabbed my cross-body bag, and slipped out the door. I’d wait on coffee until I was at Uncle’s workshop. It gave me more time with him and more to bicker about.

Walking from the apartment toward Lower Hill before the sun rose, I couldn’t help but think how different it was from yesterday. The streets were fully decorated for tonight’s Selection Festival. White banners of the Blessed lined Centre Street, and wooden stalls filled every inch of Cross Street.

Tonight, this street would be packed with festival goers, all citizens of Kavios, attempting to fit into too little space. I’d relax once I’d made it out of the city.

The key to Alaric’s workshop was heavy in my pocket. I jingled it in the lock when I opened the door. The noise aimed to alert him of my arrival and pull him from whatever project occupied the earliest morning hours.

Alaric doesn’t have friends. He has projects.

Father’s words repeated in my head. They rang true to my understanding of what Alaric did with his free time.

I desperately wanted to believe I wasn’t a project.

To allow that hope, I had to keep my mind open to the possibility that Alaric had friends—Blessed friends, even.

This led me back to Alaric’s customer yesterday.

Anything to occupy my mind from the silence of the workshop.

“Uncle,” I called softly. The front section was unlit. It wasn’t unusual. We spent our morning sessions in the workspace. There was no need to make the shop windows look inviting.

No rustling of curtains or clinking of glass filled my ears. I froze, realizing the silence was too deafening.

“Uncle,” I called again.

Where was he? Alaric knew I would come today. It would be our last session before I left. He wouldn’t miss it.

“Uncle,” I said with less hope this time as I pushed back the curtain, revealing the workspace I knew would be empty. Nausea threatened as I considered my options.

Alaric was Jeweler to the Blessed. They liked to keep him close, so he had rooms in Glanmore Castle. Maybe he was still there.

But he’d never not been here when I arrived.

I took a deep breath. Searching for him at the castle was out of the question. Not only would I never be admitted, but it was also the last place Alaric would want me to go. It was crawling with Blessed. I would be searched—touched—before I was allowed to enter.

Tears swelled with my frustration. I closed my eyes, fighting them back. It didn’t look like the place had been searched or contraband found. No matter how much everything inside me said something was wrong, I couldn’t overreact.

I pinched the bridge of my nose and assessed the room more closely.

The secret storage room door was safely closed.

I opened it quickly, confirming the books were all in place.

Champions of Kavios was crooked on the stack.

I would never leave it like that, but Alaric would.

All that mattered was that it was there—that they all were.

A glass of dark brown liquid sat on the workbench with only a single sip remaining.

It drew my gaze, and my footsteps followed.

Alaric left much out, but usually, it had to do with his work or experiments.

He was tidy with household necessities. Looking more closely at the tabletop, I recognized the other items. Wild mint from the Oldwood, lemon, and water ready to be boiled—these were the other ingredients that went into Mother’s tonic.

Only the youngleaf was missing.

A different reason to panic overtook me. I put myself in Alaric’s shoes. Had he gone to Forest’s Edge? The drink suggested he expected to return shortly, or he would have cleaned it up. Had he been working on the tonic and was interrupted? If so, where was the herb ?

Only questions filled my mind, and the only person who could answer them was missing.

That wasn’t exactly true. If my question was whether Alaric had disappeared while making the tonic or if he’d never returned from collecting the herb, surely, someone at the tavern could tell me.

I replayed the stranger’s conversation with Alaric.

Ava—that’s who he said was waiting for Alaric yesterday. She could tell me if he ever arrived.

I pushed back the heavy gold curtain, checking the sun’s rise. Could I visit Forest’s Edge at this hour?

Thinking of the time of day triggered thoughts on which I’d rather not dwell. What if I didn’t find him before the festival? I couldn’t leave on my journey without finding Alaric. Mother would need her tonic.

This could not be happening.

Soft purples and pinks painted the horizon with the rising sun.

I briefly remembered an adage about red skies in the morning meaning to take warning.

I’d barely finished the rhyme in my head when the jingling of the doorknob had my heartbeat skyrocketing again.

I hadn’t locked it behind me—too distracted by the lack of response from Alaric as I walked in.

Maybe it was fine. Maybe Alaric was returning from an errand, and this was one big overreaction on my part.

The man who let himself in was the last person I wanted to see.

I sucked in a breath, belatedly realizing the situation I’d put myself in. This man was Blessed. We were alone in Alaric’s workshop. I slid behind the counter to put it between myself and the king’s advisor.

He was about my height, but I didn’t believe I could get past him for a second. The adamas ring on his finger was large. It was twice the size of the stranger’ s yesterday.

The size of the adamas gem was an indicator of the king’s favor. Larger gems could store more power, so they were granted to those in close service to the royal family. And Vaddon Camm had the king’s favor. His position was the most powerful outside of the royal family.

My gaze rose to his face. His sharp features pinched as his blue eyes darted from the swinging curtain to me. Vaddon ran his hand through close-cropped black hair like he wasn’t sure how to proceed.

He could join the club.

“Who are you?”

I immediately hated his voice. It was nasally and entitled and spoke of everything I despised about the Blessed.

Unfortunately, his position empowered it.

I had to tread carefully. I’d defend myself if necessary.

Thanks to Alaric’s training and precaution, I always had a dagger hidden beneath my skirt.

But using it on the king’s chief advisor meant I’d be a fugitive.

My mind was spinning into worst-case scenarios.

With another deep breath, I tried to devise a more reasonable plan.

“Emberline Arkova.”

He wasn’t impressed by my lack of explanation following my name. Silence hung between us as he waited, likely for me to provide more context. I didn’t. He appeared to be testing the name, determining if he knew it.

“Alaric’s niece? Why are you here?” The way he glanced around the room, his lip curling, showed his distaste, as if he couldn’t imagine why anyone would choose such a space on purpose.

I couldn’t exactly admit he taught me banned history. “I’m a jeweler too. He teaches me new techniques.”

Vaddon waved his hand in a motion that demanded I continue my explanation, even as his gaze searched the shop, clearly uninterested in my response. At least the way his eyes roamed the shop, the unfamiliarity, gave me hope he hadn’t been here to arrest Uncle for his banned books.

That only meant something else was wrong.

“That’s it,” I said.

“Is he here?” Heavy footfalls took Vaddon across the shop to the curtain.

“What do you need?”

His fingers wrapped around the curtain, readying to pull it back. He paused and glanced at me again like I was an inconvenience in his morning. “I’m Vaddon Camm, advisor to King Rodric.” The curl of his lip said he knew he needed no introduction. “Alaric missed an appointment.”

I tried to swallow but found my throat suspiciously dry.

This might be worse. Alaric would never miss a meeting with the king.

It was one of the only reasons he gave for why he couldn’t meet some mornings.

The king required only infrequent visits, but when called upon, Alaric said it was unwise to be late.

It was one of the only times he seemed … fearful.

Alaric hadn’t said anything about a meeting with the king yesterday.

“Is he here?” Vaddon asked again. He’d pulled back the curtain, revealing the empty workspace.

I shook my head.

“Where did he go?” Vaddon clenched his teeth, and his nostrils flared like this entire experience of chasing down the jeweler was beneath him.

I didn’t know what else to say. “He wasn’t here when I arrived.”

Vaddon’s brow furrowed in frustration with my unhelpful answers. “Were you supposed to meet him?”

He stretched his fingers and glanced at his ring, allowing me to do the same without his notice.

The edges glowed green, and the slightest pressure graced the back of my neck.

He wielded persuasion. Vaddon intended to make me answer his questions under the influence of magic. He thought I was lying.

This presented a problem of a different kind. The feeling on the back of my neck intensified slightly as Vaddon repeated his question.

Like taking emotion with adamas, the gem’s wielded magic also didn’t work on me.

Whatever pressure the magic applied, it never sank beneath my skin.

But if Vaddon didn’t think me compliant—if he thought the magic didn’t persuade me—it would be as bad as a Blessed trying and failing to take from me.

I had no choice but to provide more information, so he didn’t question the gem’s power.

“Yes, I was supposed to meet him this morning.”

His sneer was unpleasant at best. “How much has Alaric Sare taught you?”

“Everything he can.” It was a dangerous choice, but truthful, as the ring’s magic would demand. I hoped Vaddon would understand it to mean he taught me how to work the gem, not how to source it.

There were two key parts to prepare the adamas to hold magic.

First was finding it. Sourcing adamas in the mine was a skill that couldn’t be learned.

Alaric had convinced the royal family years ago no one else in the city was capable.

They’d searched, of course, but could find no one else with his talent.

Second was cutting the stones. The same essence that allowed Alaric to find the stones ensured his ability to determine the right shape and density of the magic within the gem. Again, this was unteachable to any who couldn’t identify the stones to begin with.

While I’d never worked the adamas myself, I knew all of Alaric’s techniques, and I knew the difference between quartz and adamas. I was confident I could navigate working the gem to store magic as well.

Not that I wanted the royal family to know that. Alaric had done everything in his power to make certain I avoided their notice.

Now, he was gone.

Vaddon appeared to calculate things I hoped he wouldn’t.

He surveyed my features as if wanting to test the theory that none of Alaric’s relations could source the gem.

Even though my dark brown eyes, upturned nose, and bow-shaped lips looked nothing like Alaric, I was sure Vaddon saw me as the same tool to the royal family.

He had no proof.

The curve of a smile on Vaddon’s lips told me any hope I had of getting out of this, of searching for Alaric myself, or of visiting Forest’s Edge to ask about the youngleaf, was misplaced. “Well, Emberline. You need to come with me.”

“Where?” I asked.

Already, he strode toward the door, expecting me to follow. “We’re going to the castle. Prince Elias will want to speak with you.”