𝗧𝗛𝗘𝗦𝗘 𝗦𝗛𝗔𝗧𝗧𝗘𝗥𝗘𝗗 𝗛𝗘𝗔𝗥𝗧𝗦 || 𝖭𝗂𝗄𝗈𝗅𝖺𝗂 𝖫𝖺𝗇𝗍𝗌𝗈𝗏

𝘹𝘹𝘷𝘪𝘪𝘪 - 𝘢𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘤𝘭𝘰𝘴𝘦 𝘤𝘢𝘭𝘭

WALKING THROUGH THE crowded streets of Ketterdam alone, Freya couldn't help but fidget. She fixed the cuffs of her long indigo coat, ran the pads of her fingers over the braided crown of her hair, played with the leather band holding Tolya's knife to her waist, and at times even found herself tearing at the dry skin of her fingers.

These streets had made her anxious even when she had Nikolai walking beside her, even with Tolya and his giant towering form or Tamar and her fearsome axes. Now she was alone while Nikolai went to do whatever it was that he'd planned to do with the rich merchant living on the other side of the city. Freya was glad she wasn't joining him. She didn't think she could look Aleksei in the face while knowing Nikolai was about to use him for his own gain.

The likelihood of the boy coming out of this unharmed was slim to none. Maybe Freya was a coward, but she did not want to be there to watch.

The smoke-tinged air of a forge filled her nose, and she knew she was getting close to her destination. Just ahead of her, a round bronze sign swung in the air. In the centre of it was an impeccably shaped anvil and hammer, and under it in fine golden lettering: Steelfire forge. Freya did not hesitate before entering the building.

The shop itself was placed on a crossroads, at a perfect corner by one of the busiest streets that Ketterdam had to offer. One side of the building was extended by a roof, held up only by pillars instead of walls. It provided perfect shelter for the forge situated there, and for whoever would be working it during the day. The interior of the building was where the shop itself could be found. Racks of various tools and materials could be found, and a long counter stood at the far back wall. An open ledger was sprawled over it.

Freya would have thought the owner was stupid for leaving it out just like that, had she not known to whom the shop belonged. And the protection he carried. She looked over the empty shop. She hadn't expected to find him here, not in the middle of the day. The sound of a hammer hitting metal from the outside forge told her where he was. She slipped between the columns, feeling a grin start to pull at her face.

The man at the forge noticed her immediately from the corner of his eye, past experiences making him cautious of any movement, no matter how small.

Henrik looked up at her, the mostly healed scar on his forehead furrowing with his surprise. Freya grinned broadly.

"What are you doing here, vis?" He put down his hammer and reached for a wet rag to wash his soot-covered fingers. Vis, Freya had laughed the first time she'd heard it. It was the Kerch word for fish, Henrik's oh-so-clever response to Nikolai calling her the Siren in front of him once. It had, rather, unfortunately, stuck. She was convinced the man only called her it because he'd seen how offended she had been in the beginning. It did not bother her anymore, rather amused her now.

"Sturmhond has some business in the city." She could not refer to Nikolai by his princely name here, still. It would be dangerous, even if she knew she could trust Henrik to not go running to the next person who offered him money for information with it. There were plenty of people who could recognise her, or think they recognised her, and pluck up anyone she spoke to off the streets. It was why she was so coy with everything she said if it held some importance to it. "I wanted to see you while I was here."