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Stepping into the blacksmith’s shop, Arete was honestly rather taken aback by how familiar the whole place seemed to be. It was a rather strange feeling given that this was the first time that the girl had ever stepped foot in one before. She just hadn’t had a reason to do so before. Her family couldn’t afford the fine metal workings crafted here among the smog and sweltering heat. It was just too far out of their price range and there had simply been no need with none of the potter’s brood being a part of the military unit within the province. Anything bought here would have been money wasted as her family was concerned. Money that could have gone to different things like putting food on the table or clothes on the children’s backs.
Good gods it was a miracle that things had changed.
For Arete, at least. As far as the twenty-three-year-old girl knew, her family was still in Doralis, doing back-breaking work for the few meager pennies that were slowly disappearing as their line of work began to dry up. The kiln was outdated in the Condos province when compared to the artistry of glass-blowing. It always had been for as long as Arete could remember and she doubted that things would change any time soon. She couldn’t believe her luck that she would never again have to set foot in the workshop that was uncomfortably similar to this grimy cavern that was better lit by the sparks in the forges than the candles on the walls. Glancing around, the girl honestly saw little difference between this place and the small studio her family-owned in the provinces save for the fact that this place was bigger and those hunched over projects were not starving children forced to work to the bone because it was the only way to get a meal at the end of the day. Perhaps if someone else was in her shoes she might have been a bit more comforted at the sight, but for Arete? She could help, but turn her nose up in slight disgust at it all.
Pushing back these unwelcome memories, Arete peered around the space looking for anyone that could help her. It wouldn’t have been hard to notice her as she clearly did not belong in a place like this. Maybe at one point in her life, she would have been right at home with clay dust coating her face and her hands caked in red earth from shaping countless amphoras and kanthorai all day, but now this was clearly not the case. Arete did not look like a poor working girl. Not with the pale blue peplos lined in red made from a material that was so luxurious that it practically flowed around her feet like water. Not to mention that the gold adorning her neck, wrists, and ears clearly denoted her of someone who had wealth to burn. Not that anyone needed to know that it wasn’t her wealth, of course. But did that really matter to those who had been like her once, struggling to ensure that there was enough on the table to stave off the hunger pains?
It wasn’t something that was well known in the city yet, but it had been no accident that this poor potter’s daughter had suddenly been elevated to a position of wealth and luxury. She had been chosen by a man that few ever thought would settle down. Nikos of Condos had been gracious enough to pluck her from the rubble of his so-called ‘backwards’ province and give her the coveted position of owning his heart. In the eyes of the courts, she was nothing more than a mistress within the house whose colors she adorned herself with, but Arete knew that she was so much more than that. After all, she was to be Nikos’s queen. It was something that he had promised her over and over again through the sleepless nights they had spent together first in Doralis and now in Vasiliadon as Nikos had moved her to the city for safety during the war. She had hopes that this was a good sign of what she knew was bound to come next as her Niky was as honest and true to her as they came… it was just a matter know of convincing his family to support a union between the two and for Arete to deal with the one hurdle she faced when it came to the duties of a Queen and wife, but that was something that could be dealt with later; after Nikos had the throne for himself.
Not that these blacksmiths would know a whole lot about that. Nikos had kept Arete a bit of a secret since her arrival in the capital, but she was certain that would change soon. In the meantime, she knew that it would be best if she somehow showed her gratitude for Nikos taking her out of Doralis, never to return. Call her overdramatic, but he had quite literally saved her. Arete had no idea how she would have fared if she had to do another year of back-breaking labor in that workshop.
She had already shown him her gratitude in the ways that only a woman could, but she still felt that it wasn’t enough. That was why she was here with a scroll of paper in her hands. Even though it was tightly furled up at the moment, once she could speak of her idea with someone, it would reveal a design for an intricate shield for her lover. Any skilled blacksmith would take one look at what the girl wanted and would know that it would be utterly useless in battle, but that was for the best anyway. Nikos wasn’t a soldier and just like how she was never returning to Doralis, he would never step foot on a battlefield. No, this shield would be for decoration only. Having spent so much time in Nikos’s room, Arete knew that there was a blank space on the wall, just big enough for something of this design that could speak to the glories of Nikos.
Now she just had to find someone who was willing to take on the project.
Glancing around, Arete was absolutely stunned by who her eyes settled on. Now given that the girl had little experience in a blacksmith’s shop, she had expected that the men who worked here would be a bit… well erm ugly to say the least. She couldn’t help it, Arete was a rather shallow girl and she doubted that spending all day around sparks and smoke would do wonders for the skin. But not for this man. He seemed to be about the same age as her Nikos, but he had nearly twice the brawn and light blue eyes that shone brightly in the dim space. Saying that the girl was practically struck dumb by the mere sight of him (as he was most definitely a handsome creature) was a mere understatement. It took her a moment to visually gather her wits and clearly longer to stop her from biting her lower lip as she approached. Arete was firmly Nikos’s turf. There was no question about that, but if he could still flirt with anything that had a pulse, why shouldn’t she as well. Who knew, maybe Tristan had a thing for scrawny, but pretty girls like Arete? She knew that she certainly wasn’t opposed to seeing what was under that heavy leather apron, that’s for sure…
Trying to shake these thoughts out of her head for a moment as she knew that working men probably didn’t like their work disrupted by flirting girls like her, Arete approached him and set the scroll down on the table in front of him. She paid no mind to whatever he was currently doing as she unraveled it and asked, “Do you know anyone who could make something like this?” She looked up at him with a gaze that was clearly drinking in his image as she spoke. If he was tempted to bat her away just because she clearly could not keep her own coquettish nature under control, he might be tempted by the drawing before him as it was no simple sketch. Arete might have despised every moment in that potter’s workshop, but the countless hours she spent over vases, drawing in delicate designs from the legends they all knew had given her a certain skill in the handicraft of artwork. Between the grapes, roses, leopards, and doves there sat the recognizable sigil of the Condos house in the center of it all. If the rather lifelike figures weren’t enough to catch Tristan’s eye, surely the flower in the center would. After all, this wasn’t something you casually put on weaponry. Not unless you had a connection to the house… and connections like that normally meant that there would be a good payday for whoever was involved, which was something that Arete was not opposed to.
Now it was just a matter to see what Tristan thought of it…
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Stepping into the blacksmith’s shop, Arete was honestly rather taken aback by how familiar the whole place seemed to be. It was a rather strange feeling given that this was the first time that the girl had ever stepped foot in one before. She just hadn’t had a reason to do so before. Her family couldn’t afford the fine metal workings crafted here among the smog and sweltering heat. It was just too far out of their price range and there had simply been no need with none of the potter’s brood being a part of the military unit within the province. Anything bought here would have been money wasted as her family was concerned. Money that could have gone to different things like putting food on the table or clothes on the children’s backs.
Good gods it was a miracle that things had changed.
For Arete, at least. As far as the twenty-three-year-old girl knew, her family was still in Doralis, doing back-breaking work for the few meager pennies that were slowly disappearing as their line of work began to dry up. The kiln was outdated in the Condos province when compared to the artistry of glass-blowing. It always had been for as long as Arete could remember and she doubted that things would change any time soon. She couldn’t believe her luck that she would never again have to set foot in the workshop that was uncomfortably similar to this grimy cavern that was better lit by the sparks in the forges than the candles on the walls. Glancing around, the girl honestly saw little difference between this place and the small studio her family-owned in the provinces save for the fact that this place was bigger and those hunched over projects were not starving children forced to work to the bone because it was the only way to get a meal at the end of the day. Perhaps if someone else was in her shoes she might have been a bit more comforted at the sight, but for Arete? She could help, but turn her nose up in slight disgust at it all.
Pushing back these unwelcome memories, Arete peered around the space looking for anyone that could help her. It wouldn’t have been hard to notice her as she clearly did not belong in a place like this. Maybe at one point in her life, she would have been right at home with clay dust coating her face and her hands caked in red earth from shaping countless amphoras and kanthorai all day, but now this was clearly not the case. Arete did not look like a poor working girl. Not with the pale blue peplos lined in red made from a material that was so luxurious that it practically flowed around her feet like water. Not to mention that the gold adorning her neck, wrists, and ears clearly denoted her of someone who had wealth to burn. Not that anyone needed to know that it wasn’t her wealth, of course. But did that really matter to those who had been like her once, struggling to ensure that there was enough on the table to stave off the hunger pains?
It wasn’t something that was well known in the city yet, but it had been no accident that this poor potter’s daughter had suddenly been elevated to a position of wealth and luxury. She had been chosen by a man that few ever thought would settle down. Nikos of Condos had been gracious enough to pluck her from the rubble of his so-called ‘backwards’ province and give her the coveted position of owning his heart. In the eyes of the courts, she was nothing more than a mistress within the house whose colors she adorned herself with, but Arete knew that she was so much more than that. After all, she was to be Nikos’s queen. It was something that he had promised her over and over again through the sleepless nights they had spent together first in Doralis and now in Vasiliadon as Nikos had moved her to the city for safety during the war. She had hopes that this was a good sign of what she knew was bound to come next as her Niky was as honest and true to her as they came… it was just a matter know of convincing his family to support a union between the two and for Arete to deal with the one hurdle she faced when it came to the duties of a Queen and wife, but that was something that could be dealt with later; after Nikos had the throne for himself.
Not that these blacksmiths would know a whole lot about that. Nikos had kept Arete a bit of a secret since her arrival in the capital, but she was certain that would change soon. In the meantime, she knew that it would be best if she somehow showed her gratitude for Nikos taking her out of Doralis, never to return. Call her overdramatic, but he had quite literally saved her. Arete had no idea how she would have fared if she had to do another year of back-breaking labor in that workshop.
She had already shown him her gratitude in the ways that only a woman could, but she still felt that it wasn’t enough. That was why she was here with a scroll of paper in her hands. Even though it was tightly furled up at the moment, once she could speak of her idea with someone, it would reveal a design for an intricate shield for her lover. Any skilled blacksmith would take one look at what the girl wanted and would know that it would be utterly useless in battle, but that was for the best anyway. Nikos wasn’t a soldier and just like how she was never returning to Doralis, he would never step foot on a battlefield. No, this shield would be for decoration only. Having spent so much time in Nikos’s room, Arete knew that there was a blank space on the wall, just big enough for something of this design that could speak to the glories of Nikos.
Now she just had to find someone who was willing to take on the project.
Glancing around, Arete was absolutely stunned by who her eyes settled on. Now given that the girl had little experience in a blacksmith’s shop, she had expected that the men who worked here would be a bit… well erm ugly to say the least. She couldn’t help it, Arete was a rather shallow girl and she doubted that spending all day around sparks and smoke would do wonders for the skin. But not for this man. He seemed to be about the same age as her Nikos, but he had nearly twice the brawn and light blue eyes that shone brightly in the dim space. Saying that the girl was practically struck dumb by the mere sight of him (as he was most definitely a handsome creature) was a mere understatement. It took her a moment to visually gather her wits and clearly longer to stop her from biting her lower lip as she approached. Arete was firmly Nikos’s turf. There was no question about that, but if he could still flirt with anything that had a pulse, why shouldn’t she as well. Who knew, maybe Tristan had a thing for scrawny, but pretty girls like Arete? She knew that she certainly wasn’t opposed to seeing what was under that heavy leather apron, that’s for sure…
Trying to shake these thoughts out of her head for a moment as she knew that working men probably didn’t like their work disrupted by flirting girls like her, Arete approached him and set the scroll down on the table in front of him. She paid no mind to whatever he was currently doing as she unraveled it and asked, “Do you know anyone who could make something like this?” She looked up at him with a gaze that was clearly drinking in his image as she spoke. If he was tempted to bat her away just because she clearly could not keep her own coquettish nature under control, he might be tempted by the drawing before him as it was no simple sketch. Arete might have despised every moment in that potter’s workshop, but the countless hours she spent over vases, drawing in delicate designs from the legends they all knew had given her a certain skill in the handicraft of artwork. Between the grapes, roses, leopards, and doves there sat the recognizable sigil of the Condos house in the center of it all. If the rather lifelike figures weren’t enough to catch Tristan’s eye, surely the flower in the center would. After all, this wasn’t something you casually put on weaponry. Not unless you had a connection to the house… and connections like that normally meant that there would be a good payday for whoever was involved, which was something that Arete was not opposed to.
Now it was just a matter to see what Tristan thought of it…
Stepping into the blacksmith’s shop, Arete was honestly rather taken aback by how familiar the whole place seemed to be. It was a rather strange feeling given that this was the first time that the girl had ever stepped foot in one before. She just hadn’t had a reason to do so before. Her family couldn’t afford the fine metal workings crafted here among the smog and sweltering heat. It was just too far out of their price range and there had simply been no need with none of the potter’s brood being a part of the military unit within the province. Anything bought here would have been money wasted as her family was concerned. Money that could have gone to different things like putting food on the table or clothes on the children’s backs.
Good gods it was a miracle that things had changed.
For Arete, at least. As far as the twenty-three-year-old girl knew, her family was still in Doralis, doing back-breaking work for the few meager pennies that were slowly disappearing as their line of work began to dry up. The kiln was outdated in the Condos province when compared to the artistry of glass-blowing. It always had been for as long as Arete could remember and she doubted that things would change any time soon. She couldn’t believe her luck that she would never again have to set foot in the workshop that was uncomfortably similar to this grimy cavern that was better lit by the sparks in the forges than the candles on the walls. Glancing around, the girl honestly saw little difference between this place and the small studio her family-owned in the provinces save for the fact that this place was bigger and those hunched over projects were not starving children forced to work to the bone because it was the only way to get a meal at the end of the day. Perhaps if someone else was in her shoes she might have been a bit more comforted at the sight, but for Arete? She could help, but turn her nose up in slight disgust at it all.
Pushing back these unwelcome memories, Arete peered around the space looking for anyone that could help her. It wouldn’t have been hard to notice her as she clearly did not belong in a place like this. Maybe at one point in her life, she would have been right at home with clay dust coating her face and her hands caked in red earth from shaping countless amphoras and kanthorai all day, but now this was clearly not the case. Arete did not look like a poor working girl. Not with the pale blue peplos lined in red made from a material that was so luxurious that it practically flowed around her feet like water. Not to mention that the gold adorning her neck, wrists, and ears clearly denoted her of someone who had wealth to burn. Not that anyone needed to know that it wasn’t her wealth, of course. But did that really matter to those who had been like her once, struggling to ensure that there was enough on the table to stave off the hunger pains?
It wasn’t something that was well known in the city yet, but it had been no accident that this poor potter’s daughter had suddenly been elevated to a position of wealth and luxury. She had been chosen by a man that few ever thought would settle down. Nikos of Condos had been gracious enough to pluck her from the rubble of his so-called ‘backwards’ province and give her the coveted position of owning his heart. In the eyes of the courts, she was nothing more than a mistress within the house whose colors she adorned herself with, but Arete knew that she was so much more than that. After all, she was to be Nikos’s queen. It was something that he had promised her over and over again through the sleepless nights they had spent together first in Doralis and now in Vasiliadon as Nikos had moved her to the city for safety during the war. She had hopes that this was a good sign of what she knew was bound to come next as her Niky was as honest and true to her as they came… it was just a matter know of convincing his family to support a union between the two and for Arete to deal with the one hurdle she faced when it came to the duties of a Queen and wife, but that was something that could be dealt with later; after Nikos had the throne for himself.
Not that these blacksmiths would know a whole lot about that. Nikos had kept Arete a bit of a secret since her arrival in the capital, but she was certain that would change soon. In the meantime, she knew that it would be best if she somehow showed her gratitude for Nikos taking her out of Doralis, never to return. Call her overdramatic, but he had quite literally saved her. Arete had no idea how she would have fared if she had to do another year of back-breaking labor in that workshop.
She had already shown him her gratitude in the ways that only a woman could, but she still felt that it wasn’t enough. That was why she was here with a scroll of paper in her hands. Even though it was tightly furled up at the moment, once she could speak of her idea with someone, it would reveal a design for an intricate shield for her lover. Any skilled blacksmith would take one look at what the girl wanted and would know that it would be utterly useless in battle, but that was for the best anyway. Nikos wasn’t a soldier and just like how she was never returning to Doralis, he would never step foot on a battlefield. No, this shield would be for decoration only. Having spent so much time in Nikos’s room, Arete knew that there was a blank space on the wall, just big enough for something of this design that could speak to the glories of Nikos.
Now she just had to find someone who was willing to take on the project.
Glancing around, Arete was absolutely stunned by who her eyes settled on. Now given that the girl had little experience in a blacksmith’s shop, she had expected that the men who worked here would be a bit… well erm ugly to say the least. She couldn’t help it, Arete was a rather shallow girl and she doubted that spending all day around sparks and smoke would do wonders for the skin. But not for this man. He seemed to be about the same age as her Nikos, but he had nearly twice the brawn and light blue eyes that shone brightly in the dim space. Saying that the girl was practically struck dumb by the mere sight of him (as he was most definitely a handsome creature) was a mere understatement. It took her a moment to visually gather her wits and clearly longer to stop her from biting her lower lip as she approached. Arete was firmly Nikos’s turf. There was no question about that, but if he could still flirt with anything that had a pulse, why shouldn’t she as well. Who knew, maybe Tristan had a thing for scrawny, but pretty girls like Arete? She knew that she certainly wasn’t opposed to seeing what was under that heavy leather apron, that’s for sure…
Trying to shake these thoughts out of her head for a moment as she knew that working men probably didn’t like their work disrupted by flirting girls like her, Arete approached him and set the scroll down on the table in front of him. She paid no mind to whatever he was currently doing as she unraveled it and asked, “Do you know anyone who could make something like this?” She looked up at him with a gaze that was clearly drinking in his image as she spoke. If he was tempted to bat her away just because she clearly could not keep her own coquettish nature under control, he might be tempted by the drawing before him as it was no simple sketch. Arete might have despised every moment in that potter’s workshop, but the countless hours she spent over vases, drawing in delicate designs from the legends they all knew had given her a certain skill in the handicraft of artwork. Between the grapes, roses, leopards, and doves there sat the recognizable sigil of the Condos house in the center of it all. If the rather lifelike figures weren’t enough to catch Tristan’s eye, surely the flower in the center would. After all, this wasn’t something you casually put on weaponry. Not unless you had a connection to the house… and connections like that normally meant that there would be a good payday for whoever was involved, which was something that Arete was not opposed to.
Now it was just a matter to see what Tristan thought of it…