The journey to the outskirts had been tense, the air thick with the threat of the coming storm and the ever-present danger of the Fractured Realms. My carriage, flanked by five of my most loyal human guards and a contingent of hulking, silent sentry golems, finally halted before a modest but unnervingly well-kept workshop. A faint hum of magical wards prickled against my skin as I approached, Captain Valerius a grim shadow at my side, his hand never far from his sword. One of my elegant maid-golems followed silently behind me.

From within, I'd heard a faint laugh, a murmur of conversation. But as Valerius pushed the door open, the sound died. The interior was a cluttered marvel of ticking gears, arcane tools, and half-finished automata. Three figures looked up.

A young man with intense eyes and grease-smudged fingers paused over a delicate mechanism. A young woman with an oddly serene stillness looked up from a book, her gaze sharp and assessing. And a third man, older, leaned against a workbench, offering nothing but a placid, unreadable smile.

Valerius tensed beside me, his eyes narrowing at the smiling man. "Sage mark," he muttered under his breath, his grip tightening on his sword hilt, but he made no further move. I noted his concern, filing it away for later. This was not the time for his suspicions.

I ignored the unspoken tension, my voice cool and neutral, cutting through the silence. I would control this negotiation from the outset.

"I am looking for the Master Artisan. I have work. Urgent work."

The young man gave a modest, almost shy nod.

"I am Kaelen."

Valerius bristled, his voice laced with protective ire.

"You stand in the presence of Lady Vaelith, Head of—"

I raised a hand, cutting him off smoothly. My other hand discreetly activated the truth-ring on my finger, its magic attuning to the thoughts behind the words spoken in the next moments. I looked at each of them in turn: Kaelen, the young woman, the smiling man.

"A simple question, for my peace of mind. Will you cause me, or my retinue, any harm?"

Kaelen shook his head, his expression earnest.

"No. I don't deal in harm. I fix things."

The young woman gave a single, firm shake of her head, her eyes holding mine.

"Lyra. No harm."

The smiling man merely offered a deeper, silent smile and a slow, negative shake of his head.

The ring on my finger remained cool and inert. Truth. Or truths they believed utterly. A small, tight knot of anxiety in my chest loosened slightly.

I gave a short, satisfied nod.

"Captain, wait outside with the others."

After dismissing my guards, I sat alone with my maid-golem and the three strangers. Kaelen wiped his hands on a rag and asked the question that would determine my family's fate.

"What exactly is the work? And what is being offered for it?"

The fate of my house, resting on this boy's stained hands. My mind raced through the possibilities, each with its own risk.