The forge fire had burned low by the time Hadez finished his work that evening. He quenched the final blade in the water trough, steam hissing as if the steel itself sighed in relief. Yet it wasn't the hammering or heat that lingered in his mind.
It was her.
The cloaked girl with emerald eyes.
The Princess.
He replayed their brief exchange over and over. The way she had studied him, her words — "They don't belong to a forge." As though she had seen something even he could not name.
"Hadez," Master Kael grunted from the doorway, breaking his thoughts. "You've been staring at cold steel for half an hour. Go home. Get your head straight."
"Yes, Master." Hadez stripped off his apron, his hands still trembling faintly.
That night, his dreams returned — fire, a crown, and a voice calling his name through the flames. He woke before dawn, chest heaving, and found himself whispering the name he had heard shouted in the square.
Seraphina.
---
The next day, the market square was crowded again. Hadez tried to focus on carrying supplies from the forge, but his eyes kept scanning the throng. He told himself it was foolish. What were the chances that a Princess would return here, unguarded?
And yet, when he reached the fountain at the square's center, there she was. Cloaked once more, hood drawn low — but he knew her instantly.
She was staring into the water as though lost in thought.
Hadez hesitated, then forced himself forward. "You shouldn't be here."
Her head snapped up. For a moment, surprise flashed across her face. Then she smiled, soft and quick. "And yet… here I am."
"You're a princess." His voice was low, urgent. "If anyone recognizes you—"
"They won't," she interrupted. "Not like this." She gestured to the plain cloak. Then her eyes softened. "You're worried for me?"
"Yes," Hadez said before he could stop himself.
Silence stretched between them. Seraphina tilted her head, studying him again the way she had yesterday. It unsettled him, the way she seemed to see through the surface of things.
"You're not what you seem, either," she said quietly.
Hadez's chest tightened. "What do you mean?"
Her lips curved, almost playfully. "A blacksmith's apprentice who moves like a trained fighter, who stares at the stars as though he's waiting for them to answer. You're hiding something, Hadez."
The way she spoke his name — as though she had practiced it — sent heat rushing through him. He swallowed hard, unsure what to say.
A bell rang across the square, breaking the spell. Seraphina's smile faded.
"I must go," she whispered, pulling her hood low again.
"Will I see you again?" Hadez asked, the words escaping before he could hold them back.
She paused, turning just enough that he caught the glimmer of her emerald eyes beneath the hood.
"Perhaps," she said, and was gone into the crowd once more.
Hadez stood frozen, heart hammering, every instinct screaming that his life had shifted in ways he did not yet understand.
For the first time in years, he longed not for the silence of the forge — but for answers.
And for her.