“Nor is he pretending to be,” a new voice said.
Akio glanced up; he knew that voice. It was his father, Norio.
“Builder Kazuki. Just think of how much love my son must bear for your daughter, that he can create this beautiful thing from memory alone.”
Prince Masaki started. He looked at Rika, and then back to Akio. “Of course. I should have guessed.”
“And think of how bold and clever Akio is, that he thought to take advantage of this opportunity to show you his work,” Norio continued.
Rika smiled at Builder Kazuki, who seemed unable to speak. “It’s true, Father,” she said. "He is very clever."
“I have to say the day is proving to be much more interesting than I had thought it would be when I woke this morning,” Prince Masaki said. “I have seen many arches, but nothing like this. Akio, do you think you could make a statue for me? I would like a representation of the High Lord, my father, to give to him as a gift.”
“Of course, Prince Masaki,” Akio said.
Akio looked around him. The townsfolk weren’t angry; they were thoughtful. Whatever they thought of the statue, they didn’t feel ridiculed, or upset, merely curious.
High Builder Michio’s deep voice boomed. “Can we now return to the examinations?”
“Of course, High Builder.” Prince Masaki smiled.
“Apprentice, remove this statue from the square.”
Akio nodded his acquiescence. But before he left, Rika's father, Builder Kazuki, finally spoke. “Akio, could you bring the statue past my house, later this evening? I think I have the perfect place for it.”
“Of course, Builder Kazuki,” Akio said.
Leading the cart, Akio left the square with his father walking beside him.
Norio spoke. “You did well, Akio.”
“I did?”
Norio shrugged. “Sometimes all it takes is a bold move — and to be ruled by your heart, rather than your head. Will you promise me one thing?”
“What is it, Father?”
“Ignore what I said. Never hide your mark – always make it where all can see.”
Norio put his arm around his son’s shoulders. Akio caught his father looking back at the statue, shaking his head, and suddenly realizing how much he loved the old man, Akio squeezed his father’s shoulders in return.
“Oh, and I’m sorry, my son, but High Builder Michio was right. You’re no builder.”
“Then what am I?”
“You’re an artist.”
The Attraction of Metal
“I’ll kill him.”
Senna tried to hide her face, but Luka lifted her chin. She winced when he ran his finger over her cheekbone with the lightest of touches, and he felt the rage coursing through his blood. The bruise under her left eye was scratched at the edges, the soft white skin of her cheek red and torn, as if hard knuckles had smashed into her face. Which was exactly what had happened.
Senna hung her head again. “Please, Luka. It’s not that bad.”
“Not that bad? Not that bad!” Luka took her by the arm, where the cheap material of her dress covered her shoulder. “Are you hurt anywhere else? Come inside and let me see.” He wanted to destroy the man who had done this, who had knocked his wife around like she was nothing.
Senna gasped when he touched her shoulder, and Luka’s eyes went wide. He slid the near-transparent cloth from her shoulder. The green and blue discoloration mottled her skin; bruises covered her upper arm.
“What did he do to you?” Luka demanded.
“He just grabbed me by the arm. He does that, Luka.”
“Like he just hits you in the face? I’ll kill him,” Luka said again.
Senna sighed. She gently removed Luka’s hands and weaved around him to enter their small lodgings, making directly for the wash basin. He looked after her, torn inside, aching to confront his wife’s tormenter, but fearful of bringing her to further harm.
Senna worked as a hostess at a burlesque house, The Bird in a Cage, billed as “the house with the longest legs in Seranthia”. She only served drinks, Luca knew, but not all the customers knew that. She’d stopped telling him stories about the patrons and their wandering hands; it upset him too much.
She said the owner, Erelin Osta, wasn’t a bad man, and in fact tried hard to look after his girls: both the hostesses, who served drinks and whose complaints generally revolved around lack of payment and groping; and the showgirls and working girls, whose problems could be much more serious.
Luca hated her working there, but at the moment they were poor. All of their gilden had gone to pay for his apprenticeship with the blacksmith, and the wages he earned simply weren’t enough to put food on the table. His master, like the owner of The Bird in a Cage, was forced to pay much of his income to the streetclans for their “protection”. There wasn’t much left for wages.
Even the streetclans weren’t the problem. Most of the residents of Seranthia simply stayed out of their way. It was Gugan who was the problem.