The sound of metal clinking and the soft hum of a forge greeted Axelius as he stepped into the blacksmith workshop early the next morning, the sun barely past the roofs, and inside the air already smelled like smoke, hot iron, and oil.
Tarn, the dwarf blacksmith, looked up from his workbench, raising a brow in surprise as he wiped his hands on a thick cloth and gave a wide grin.
"You're early, young lord… and it seems you've brought more company," Tarn said with a short nod, his eyes drifting toward the two men in plain clothes who stood just behind Axelius—though the way they stood straight and alert made it clear they were no ordinary citizens.
Axelius let out a long sigh, looking back at the disguised knight guards with faint irritation,
"Tsk… looks like the Grand Duke cares a little too much." Tarn added.
Axelius shaking his head. "Care? Looks more like worried I'll disgrace his name," He simply raised a hand and waved lazily. "You two. Wait outside."
