Madeline was about to ask her father if anyone had come to buy from their shop, because for some days they had been working on making swords and shields but she had not seen a single buyer step into their shop. At first, she had wondered if her skills were not enough, perhaps she had been doing it wrong, but she shook her head - she was just doubting herself.
And she hated doubt. She knew she was good; she had been doing this for a long time. Still, she did not understand why the sales kept dropping.
As the man in royal clothing barged in, her jaw dropped. Perhaps it was the unexpected arrival of a message from the castle, which had never happened before since the current king's reign began.
Perhaps someone had informed the king about her father, known for crafting the finest swords in the country. It seemed like the most likely reason.
However, it was puzzling that it took two years for him to be noticed by the king. Why now? She couldn't help but be curious.
Madeline peeked from her work to see the short, plump man holding a letter in his hand. He was standing in front of her father, but Madeline noticed him stealing glances at her.
It wasn't admiration, but sheer terror, probably because she was a girl who worked as a blacksmith.
That would have bothered her, but she was now grown, no longer a little girl who had first doubted herself because of everyone's scrutinizing gaze. A girl like her was probably not a hopeless romantic, not interested in marriage - she was the kind of girl who was not fit to attend a ball.
But Madeline had overlooked all of it because she did know what kind of girl she was. Despite working with her father, she cooks, reads a lot of romance, and has always wished for true love like the ones she reads about. She loves a simple life and, if fortunate, would attend balls and sit in carriages. She was a regular girl, but people chose to look at her outwardly.
Maybe this was why no noble suitor came her way, except for the village drunks and men.
She was beautiful despite this hardship. Her blue eyes gleamed despite the day-to-day harsh air, and although her skin was toned, it still glowed when she wasn't working.
Her hips were in just the right place, and even in an apron, she still caused heads to turn.
But she doubted that was why this man was looking at her; the sheer terror on his face was evident. He didn't think she was attractive enough, believing that a blacksmith woman who let her skin fade under so much work wasn't attractive enough.
She looked away but perked her ear for what he was about to say. He cleared his throat and spoke, his voice raised as if he wasn't trying to hide whatever the news was.
"Mr. Gavin, the king has sent you a letter,"
Madeline peeked and saw him handing the letter to her father. Her heart was beating fast. What could it be? Did the king want to patronize them? That would be a good thing.
If the king happened to buy from them, they could return to eating three square meals a day. Maybe she wouldn't have to fantasize about marrying a rich man to help her family out. After all, marrying the ones in novels should be enough, right?
But if true love comes, it wasn't like she was going to decline.
Mr. Gavin nodded but eyed him skeptically as he took the letter. He, too, was curious to know what the king wants. The king has never met him one on one, nor has he bought anything from him or noticed him.
"Please, you would have to open it now, for your reply is what I would tell him," the man said. His pose was not steady, as if this place made him uncomfortable and he couldn't wish for anything better than to be away from here.
"Certainly," Mr. Gavin said as he opened the letter. There was a red stamp on top that confirmed it had come from the castle.
His eyes widened as he read the contents of the letter.
'Dear Mr. Gavin,
I have heard of your wonderful skill. I would be needing some weapons. I'm sure this will be a good opportunity for you as the king specifically is in need of it. Swords, shields, arrows, and whatever else you can make.
In one week, Mr. Gavin, do I need these weapons.'
He paused and looked up at the messenger. The man raised a brow, silently asking him if he had finished reading the letter so he could report back. Mr. Gavin shook his head and went back to reading it.
'If one week is too short of a time, then let me know, and I will extend the date.'
He looked up again, this time his eyes meeting Madelin. She was looking at him curiously, wondering what the king said.
There was excitement dancing in his eyes. The king was going to patronize him. This was huge; it was going to change their life forever. However, he let that excitement sit in his eyes instead of bursting out in the open.
He does not know the king, has never met him before, and has not done business with him. Despite him being the king, this might not be a good deal. But the positive aspect of it is that the king has noticed him. If the king has noticed him, it could bring great opportunities for him—a huge connection.
Madeline wanted to ask what it was about, but he went back to reading the letter. She was dying to know its content; the only thing she needed was for the king to patronize them, which was going to be huge. Aside from that, no other news would be good enough.
She watched as her father read the letter again, but the excitement she saw in his eyes soon turned into a flame that had been quenched.
He frowned, his eyes darkening.
"What did the king say, father?" she asked, unable to keep still any longer. She had left what she was doing and walked up to him.
She saw the messenger shifting back, his eyes growing wide, but she completely ignored him. Whatever was running through his mind was unimportant.
Her father shook his head as she reached him. She tilted her head and extended her hand for the letter. With the look on his face, she doubted he would say anything. What did the king say? Was he going to stop his business? Why the abrupt silence? She wondered.
Mr. Gavin didn't want to give the letter because of what he had read, but Madeline seemed persistent, so he handed it to her with an exasperated sigh.
Madeline took the letter from his hand, happy that he at least gave it to her. When she read through its contents, she sighed.
After the king said he was going to patronize them, he had asked her to deliver it and convince him to buy it.
Why did he...
Who was this king?
Why didn't he just ask her father to go? At least if she was to go with her father, she could be confident enough to convince him.