At dinner time, Joji noticed large boxes lined up outside, stacked neat as tribute. Clearly Jonas had taken his request seriously.
"I found about two hundred types of metal in our warehouse," Jonas said as they sat. "Would you like to look right now."
"I appreciate it," Joji replied, unhurried. "But let's enjoy the meal first."
He ate slow, letting warmth settle into him. Across the table he watched Alaric flex his arm.
The inflammation had gone down. Whatever healer the Cutlers employed had earned their pay.
After the meal, Joji went out to the yard.
He inspected the boxes one by one. High quality stock. Not scrap. Not cheap alloy meant to fool a buyer.
Real metal, sorted and labeled, the kind a merchant family hoarded because it could be traded into anything, armor, tools, favors.
Joji's mouth went dry with excitement. He was meant to eat it. That still sounded insane when he thought it plainly.
