Prince Albert was imprisoned in Isabella's forge as the storm raged, yet the actual storm was building inside him. Though the quiet intimacy of the space felt more like a dangerous tether than a respite, the rhythmic drumming of rain on the roof replaced the suffocating silence of the castle. Her motions, fluid and unselfconscious, allowed Isabella to quietly bank the fire and move with elegant precision. Filled with the basic smells of coal and iron, the small shop seemed terribly personal.
Isabella noted, her voice surprisingly quiet as she placed a steaming mug of herb tea before him, "You seem… different here." Still, her eyes had a peculiar sharpness that made Albert uneasy. "Less like a prince, and more like a man stripped bare of his finery."
Albert was startled by her brutal openness, but it fell short of the spark of knowledge he had expected. Instead, a prickle of uneasiness descended his spinal column. Had he confessed too much? He forced a small grin. "Maybe I am just less burdened by the demands of the Crown when a hundred pairs of royal eyes are not watching me." He discussed the unending obligations, the suffocating pressure to marry a noblewoman, the heavy weight of his family history. He confessed his wish for Eldoria to be a kingdom of actual wealth, beyond just appearances, and he stared at her carefully for any reaction.
Isabella paid attention, her head tilted somewhat, her dark eyes seeming endless. Her voice was low, almost conspiratorial. "And what of the hidden burdens, Your Highness? The secrets that truly define a kingdom's strength? There are metals whispering of forgotten power, stronger than any the royal mines boast. My father… he spoke of such things." Her words sent a chill through Albert; they were obscurely metaphorical. He remembered the king's increasing distrust regarding the vanishing Dragon's Breath. Ore, a problem whispered about only in the highest echelons of court. Could this blacksmith, this ordinary man, really understand anything of such great importance?
He pushed her, his voice deliberately neutral. "And what did your father say of these 'forgotten powers'?"
Isabella just gave a little, unsettling smile. "Only then does genuine strength frequently dwell where one least anticipates it. And that information, like rare ore, might be both a blessing and a terrible curse." She then deftly steered the discussion to her own dreams of invention, of finding new uses for minerals, but Albert's mind was racing. Her love for her trade was unmistakable, but now it appeared imbued with a more profound, disturbing undercurrent.
A deep unease descended over Albert as the storm outside at last started to calm, leaving behind a planet swept clean. He had never talked so openly, so honestly, with anyone. Still, Isabella's subtle hints and eerie assurance had sparked a fresh level of dread. Driven by a desperate need for answers, he crossed the little, faded table with his hand hovering near hers, not for a romantic connection. Isabella's strong, smudged fingertips naturally reached back. Their hands brushed, yet the jolt was not of shared love but of a sobering realization: this lady had a secret, hazardous knowledge that linked her to an impending national catastrophe.
Though always present, the king's spies were shadows; now Albert understood the threat went beyond a forbidden love. Isabella could be crucial to Eldoria's actual survival or final collapse, rather than only a threat to his reputation. And should she keep such a secret, his father—merciless in his quest for Eldoria's safety—would go to any length to obtain it. Was Isabella just a talented blacksmith or a custodian of dangerous knowledge that could kill them both?