Steel Rubies by Sereia

Rejuvenate

The day dawned bright and clear. Kagome didn't have to rise with the sun, but she'd started doing it when her mother had begun teaching her the tools of her trade, and the habit had stuck. It also gave her time to train before the market came alive with patrons, so she didn't have to worry about missing a potential sale.

Not that there were many of those, anyway.

It had been one thing when her mother had run the shop—she'd been the wife of the decorated captain of the king's guard, and if he said her weapons were impressive, no one was about to argue. But when Kagome had taken up the mantle a few years after their deaths, there'd been no one to lend support.

The king outsourced weapons now, and though they were nowhere near the quality she could produce, he'd refused to even grant her an audience to plead her case. Kagome snorted. She wasn't about to beg, anyway. She was a master swordsmith, no matter what anyone else said—and they'd said plenty.

She'd given up her hut to live in the back of the shop after it had been trashed for the third time. Rebuilding her tools was one thing, but having to explain a delay in production to the few customers she did have only dwindled her business. She needed to make a living as much as the next person.

She'd managed to create a following with some of the women in the village, creating smaller weapons that were easier to conceal rather than brandishing them for all to see by strapping them to their belts. But smaller weapons meant less time and materials, which meant less coin in her pocket. She'd never turn down a female customer, but what she really wanted was to continue her mother's legacy of providing for the soldiers.

Mama had done so well in the first place because of her ability to fuse metal with power. Her weapons had been a conduit for the wielder, able to withstand reiki or youki alike. They'd scoffed at her initially, but when she'd stepped forward and sent the entire battalion to their knees with a few swipes of her sword, they'd quickly realized how serious she was—and how powerful.

Sighing, Kagome watched as people mingled around every stall but hers, ready to spend their money at a moment's notice on unnecessary frivolities. Maybe if she added a few pieces of jewellery to her stock, she'd attract more of the higher-bred clientele, but then they'd probably complain about her lack of gemstones overall, and she couldn't afford to skimp on metal in favour of useless decorations.

After trying to make eye contact for an hour, she eventually retreated to her workshop; if no one was going to bargain with her, she could at least get some work done on her next order. She sat next to the anvil, alternating between heating and cooling the metal, banging out dents until it was ready to be polished.

"I am looking to procure a sword."

Kagome didn't look up from her station, sliding the stone along the length of the blade. "You and everyone else in the village."

Coins clinked together as a satchel was set on the front of her stall. "I can pay."

"So have a lot of people." She knew it wasn't the best way to drum up business, but she was sick and tired of putting her heart and soul into making a weapon only for the owner to cut himself due to lack of training and then blame it on shoddy workmanship. The soldiers were one thing; some bonehead looking to impress his drinking buddies was another.

Plus, she was still in a foul mood from being constantly snubbed all morning.

Finishing the one she was working on, she quietly set it aside, grabbing a length of fabric for the handle. "Look, there's another smith on the other side of town. He'll have what you're looking for."

"I am looking for the best," the man argued. "And that means you."

Well, that was new.

Wrapping the fabric around her hand to measure it out, she finally lifted her head, colour draining from her face when she saw the crest on his moss-coloured vest. Last time she checked, insulting royalty led to lost limbs. "I thought the king had all of his weapons specially ordered from the north," she said.

"The king has. I wish for something else." He eyed the collection of weapons hanging behind her. "Something better."

Kagome bit her lip. She didn't want to admit he was ever the charming prince who had the village women swooning as he walked by, but his compliments were breaking through the armour she'd built up. Being the only female swordsmith in town, possibly at all, had her fighting for acknowledgement—from anyone.

Making something for the crown prince would give her more than enough prestige, and coin, to continue her mother's work—if he was being serious.

"A test then," she said, getting to her feet. "To see if you can handle something made by me."

A silver eyebrow raised, golden eyes glinting in interest. "As you wish."

She ripped off a piece of parchment, drawing a makeshift map in charcoal. "Meet me here this afternoon. I assume you're going to want the weapon to withstand youki?"

"Indeed."

Nodding, she circled the area inside a grove of trees. "This will contain residual power. From both of us. Come alone, or you're not getting anything."

"You expect the king's son to show up without—"

Kagome slammed her hand down on the table. "I don't care about your lineage. If you want a weapon from me, you're going to have to prove you can wield it. And that means by yourself."

He eyed her, then her shop, before inclining his head. "Very well." He grabbed her hand before she could step away, brushing his lips against her knuckles. "I appreciate you taking the time to complete my request."

She yanked her hand away, making a show out of rubbing it off on her apron. "Don't push your luck, Your Highness. We'll see how you handle it first." He bowed slightly, then walked away, leaving the pouch of coins behind. "Wait! You forgot—"

"Think of it as an incentive for you to show up," he called back, quickly disappearing into the throng of villagers. Kagome growled, tempted to throw it at him, but pocketed it instead. If he wanted to waste his money on the chance of getting a weapon, that was his problem.