Chapter 136 Things Worth Making
Damien
Breakfast is terrible... I will never tell her that, though. I eat every bite with the kind of reverence usually reserved for sacred rituals or political alliances, nodding thoughtfully, murmuring approval. I deliberately avoid making eye contact with the egg that has somehow achieved both dryness and liquidity at the same time. Bella watches me closely, chin propped in her palm, clearly waiting for feedback.
“This is good,” I say sincerely, because the effort matters more than the result. “You did well.”
She beams, and that settles it. I would eat far worse things if it meant that look.
The dragon snorts in my head. You are lying.
I am appreciating, I reply internally. There’s a difference.
There is not.
We finish breakfast slowly, unhurried, the kitchen still warm from cooking and morning light pooling across the stone floor. Bella looks relaxed in a way that still catches me off guard sometimes, shoulders loose, magic quiet but present beneath her skin like a steady pulse. Peace suits her, but it also worries me. Bella doesn’t sit still well for long. She thrives when she has something to pour herself into, something to build or protect or understand. With the crisis over, the people settled, and the world no longer actively threatening to collapse, I can see the edge of restlessness already forming.
I clear my throat. “So,” I say casually. “What do you want to do today?”
She blinks at me and shrugs.
“I don’t know,” she says. “Nothing? Everything? I kind of just want to exist for a bit.”
That makes my chest ache in a soft, complicated way.
I nod. “That’s fair.”
The dragon hums thoughtfully.
She will last two hours.
An optimistic estimate, I murmur.
Bella squints at me. “What?”
“Nothing.” I lean back against the counter, arms folded, and let the idea I’ve been turning over all morning slide into place. “You could go see Ashlyn and Red.”
Her head lifts immediately with interest.
“They’re up at the village still,” I continue lightly. “Helping settle people in. Red’s taken to the organisation, and Ashlyn… well. She could probably use company.”
Bella brightens, then frowns. “What if they're too busy?”
I smile, already prepared for this sort of soft argument. “They won't be.”
She studies me for a moment, then nods decisively. “Okay. That sounds good then.”
I push off the counter and hold out my hand for her. “I’ll walk you up.”
She pauses at the doorway. “And what are you doing today?”
This is the moment. The one I knew was coming. I don’t lie. I simply… curate the truth.
“I’ve got some royal matters to attend to,” I say easily. “Reports to review. Logistics to finalise. Things that were postponed while we saved the world.”
She grimaces sympathetically. “That sounds boring.”
“It is,” I agree.
The dragon laughs.
Technically true.
We walk together up the mountain path, hands brushing, steps matching naturally. The village comes into view gradually, smoke curling from chimneys, voices carrying faintly on the air. Bella squeezes my fingers once before letting go, already scanning for familiar faces.
“I’ll see you later,” she says.
I kiss her temple. “Take your time.”
She smiles and heads off, magic humming softly as she goes. I watch her until she disappears into the crowd. Then I turn around and walk back down. The moment I’m out of sight, the dragon stretches, satisfaction rippling through me.
Now we begin.
“I need Marius,” I say.
He’s easy enough to find. He's frazzled, but awake and already halfway through three tasks at once.
“My king,” he says brightly. “What can I—”
“I have plans,” I interrupt.
His eyes light up as I tell him everything. He listens without interrupting, expression shifting from surprise to delight to barely contained excitement. By the time I finish, he’s grinning like a man who has just been handed the best assignment of his life.
“You want an office,” he says slowly. “For Lady Bella.”
“Yes.”
“With a typewriter.”
“Yes.”
“And plants.”
“Several.”
“And candles.”
“Within reason.”
He nods vigorously. “Of course.”
“And the second thing?” he asks, already knowing.
I inhale.
“I need a ring, Marius,” I say. “Not just any ring. I need one worthy of a queen.”
He makes a sound somewhere between a gasp and a laugh. “Oh. Oh, this is happening.”
“Yes.”
He rubs his hands together. “I know exactly where you need to go.”
The village with the forge sits lower on the mountain, tucked into stone and fire, smoke rising in steady columns from open vents carved directly into the rock. The heat hits me the moment I arrive, familiar and grounding. The master smith looks up from his work as I enter, eyes sharp and assessing.
“My king,” he says, bowing slightly.
I tell him what I want, and I show him the rough plans that I made this morning before I met Bella for breakfast. I explain the meaning and why it's important to get it right.
“I don’t want a finished ring,” I say without preamble. “I want to help make it.”
That earns me a long quizzical look, then a smile.
“Then you’re in the right place.”
We spend hours there. The metal is heated, shaped, cooled, and reheated. I learn how pressure changes form, how patience matters more than strength, how balance determines whether something endures or shatters. The ring takes shape slowly, crafted with intent rather than haste.
The dragon watches with approval. This will be perfect for our snowflake.
“It will,” I agree quietly.
By the time the sun begins to dip, the ring rests on the workbench, catching the light just so. It is simple, elegant, and strong. A piece meant to last. I close my fingers around it, feeling the weight settle into my palm. It is perfect. I head back toward the kingdom as twilight settles, mind already racing ahead. There is still so much to do. An office to finish. A proposal to plan. A future to build.
The dragon stretches again, content. We are ready.
And soon, so will she be.