The street his father pointed to, seemed to be more of a tunnel than a road. The street itself was perhaps half the size of the main road, but unlike the main road the buildings on either side loomed over it. The large stone buildings were built right up to the edge of the road, with some of their upper levels clearly built to reach over the street.
“This will be a good learning experience for you,” his father said patting him on the shoulder. “Watch what I do and tell me what you notice, when we come back out.”
Orn nodded and followed his father in to the simple door under a sign painted with a pearl necklace. The door opened to the sound of a bell chiming. The small room’s walls were covered in shelves holding small boxes, though necklaces and other jewelry was displayed in a couple places on the shelves. What caught Orn’s attention though, was the wide oak table that ran across the room, separating Orn and his father from the rest of the room.
“Good day sirs,” a chipper voice came from Orn’s left. He turned and saw a gangly youth only a few years older than him looking their way. “Welcome to the Pearl Necklace. How my I help you?”
“I am interested in a gift for a pair of women who will be attending a ball this season.” Orn’s father replied.
“Of course sir,” the young man replied politely, “We have all the latest cuts and styles, but not all of them are appropriate for every event, or properly complement every woman. Can you perhaps tell me the event they will attend? I can perhaps then recommend jewelry for you consideration, sir…”
“Count. Count Blackthorn,” his father replied, extending his plaque. The young man glanced a the small piece of metal and bowed deeply.
“My deepest apologies, for not recognizing your august personage.” With a deft motion the young man worked some sort of latch and a section of the bench folded up to allow them to enter the rest of the shop.
A moment latter an older man, stepped through a small door in the back. He looked quickly at the bowing young man, then Orn’s father before turning back to the young man. “Yom, how could you not recognize such an important person?”
“I am sorry master. I left my spectacles in the back and was unable to recognize Count Blackthorn without them.” The young man bowed again. “I must beg your forgiveness.”
“Get into the back and find your glasses,” the master jeweler replied with exasperation. “I will see to his needs.”
The young man nodded, but before leaving offered another quick bow to Orn’s father. “I apologize again, and trust the master to properly see the ladies ready for their ball.”
The young man then quickly retreaded through the back door. Once the young man left, his master tried to play off the mistake, and began to show them pieces he thought Orn’s father might be interested in. Orn’s father considered each thoughtfully, before politely implying he might bring the ladies themselves around at a later time, to choose for themselves.
When the door was closed behind them, his father gestured down the street. Once they were a few door down he asked, “What did you notice?”
Orn shrugged, “Their acting was over the top, and what they had was more gaudy than anything either Olivia or Mother would ever wear.”
“Right on both counts,” his father said chuckling. “They had to know I was able to afford what the sold before they let us in. He could not know what your mother prefers in jewelry, but knowing my status he had to show me the most expensive pieces he had. He also had to go through the motions with his apprentice or he could risk an angry high noble in his shop.”
“But who would get angry over someone not knowing who they were? We live halfway across the kingdom, asking them to know you is unreasonable.” Orn stared up at his father trying to imagine him being so conceited.
“Sadly there are more than a few people out there who would,” his father sighed. “But they mostly enjoy people scraping and bowing around them. This means the act they put on, would probably resolve the issue. Consider how smoothly the apprentice told his master not only who I was, but what I wanted. There is a reason people who are not actors have those skills, moderate though they are. But here is a riddle for you, how will we find the right gifts if that is what they want to show us? They have to see my plaque before they let me within arms reach of jewelry, but will only show a high noble the most expensive pieces they have.”
Orn considered the question as they strolled slowly past more jewelers shops, but had to conceded he did not know. “I do not know. How?”
His father smiled. With a quick motion he removed the plaque from around his neck and showed it to Orn. “What do you not see now?”
Orn stopped to look closely at the plaque. His eyes went wide as he realized his father’s finger was hiding his court rank, but showing his name and path.
“I can tell you already understand,” his father said putting the chain back around his neck. “A person could also show a certain amount of coin, or just have another person make the introduction. The jeweler knows some information is being hidden and will try to direct you to what you want to see based on what they think you hid. For today, I will let you do the introductions. Just tell them …”
…
“Welcome Sir Orn,” the apprentice jeweler replied as Orn returned his plaque around his neck. “Would you and your father please come this way.”
The apprentice, like the room, might as well have been the twin of the one a the first shop they visited. He worked a similar latch, and lifted a section of table so they could enter the room. “My master will join us momentarily to aid your father in his search, and I will of course be at your disposal. I am proud to say that we have a wide selection of jewelry, for all purposes and price ranges. Your father mentioned wanting pieces of jewelry for a ball, perhaps we may find complementary pieces in our collection. Do you know what ball they will be attending?”
“I did not pay attention. They go to so many,” Orn replied wondering if every jeweler in the city learned the same script. I know this part word for word now. Glancing over the shelves he shrugged, “Father will handle that. But I might as well see if there is anything that I could give them later, or maybe something for a friend.”
The young man smiled and led him to a set of shelves halfway down the wall and began to present pieces to Orn. The items were beautifully made, and had intricate designs, but at heart they were just large chunks of gold with patterns on them. Orn could not imagine his mother wanting to wear the latest piece, a gold broach the size of his father’s fist. He could however, imagine his mother’s expression if they brought home something that cost what the apprentice mentioned as its price.
Orn countered with an approximation of the code words his father had mentioned, and pointed out things he liked or disliked about the piece. Unfortunately, the new style among the nobility in the city was large and ostentatious. Orn was about to give up when the apprentice said something Orn had not heard before.
“Those are the best pieces to compliment what your father is looking at. But I have a few pieces that were made in a more classic style,” the apprentice watched Orn closely, trying to gauge his reaction to the proposal. “These pieces are not popular at the moment, but they are meant for everyday wear. Perhaps we may find something that they will enjoy at more casual events.”
Orn nodded and moments later watched the apprentice spreading out a group of small boxes on the table in front of him. For the first time he saw things he could imagine his mother or Liv wearing. A few pieces even caught his eye, and he recognized they were carved monster stone rather than actual jewels.
“Has something caught your attention young master? These pieces are of excellent quality despite their simple design. A few are even made from rare monster stones, which the Elegains say can ward off evil magics.” The apprentice described pieces after realizing Orn, was for the first time, considering the jewelry.
Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.
“Can you tell me about these?” Orn gestured to a handful of pieces, most of which he had no interest in. The assistant removed the other pieces, and Orn watched the young man trying to gauge which pieces he was interested in. Uncle said that they do that, but I never noticed the local peddlers actually do it. I am glad I asked about so many of them. I wonder if he will drop the prices of the ones I want if I ask about the expensive ones?
The apprentice spoke at length about the remaining jewelry. Orn listed patiently as the apprentice gave his best sales pitch and did his best to feign interest in the other pieces. When it came to the final purchase he did his best to haggle like Uncle did. In the end I knew he had not done as well as Uncle, but judging by the master jeweler's smile, he had done better than his father.
A few minutes later, the apprentice wrapped up their purchases, after taking the money from Orn’s father. His father nodded his approval at the jewelry, but got a strange expression when he saw the last one. Despite the change in expression, he did not say anything and paid for the lot. Orn thought knew he had something on his mind.
Orn’s father seemed ready to say something as the door closed behind them, but a loud noise down the street drew his attention. They both turned to where the street ended at a pair of large wooden gates painted bright red. A roar of laughter, followed by a chorus of giggling could be heard echoing from the far side and down the narrow street. Orn saw one of the gates start to open, but his father suddenly turned him back toward the main street. “I did not realized we had walked so far...” his father cleared his throat, and holding Orn by the shoulders gently pushed him along in from of him. “For so long. We need to hurry to get to the tailor before it gets too late.”
“Father,” Orn started only to be cut off by his father.
“Eyes forward, I do not want you to trip,” his father said clearly bothered by something.
At the rate his father was moving Orn found he had to do just that, but his father's reaction bothered him. His father was rushing away from something behind him. What is he scared of? He has carried his sword on him since we left home, and mother said he is a well known duelist. What is back there that could be scaring him?
“It is not what is back there that I am worried about,” his father replied, and Orn realized he must have said the last part out loud. “I am worried what will happen if your mother realizes we walked further down jeweler's street than I realized. Orn someday you will understand and we can laugh about this, but I need you to promise me something.”
His father slowed the pace, and turned Orn around to face him. “Orn promise me you will not mention to your mother that we got within sight of those gates, and if you see any like them you will turn around and walk away.”
“I promise,” Orn replied shakily seeing genuine concern in his father’s searching gaze. Almost in a whisper he asked, “what is back there?”
“Nothing you need to worry about,” His father replied quickly, but not quite meeting his eyes. “I will tell you when you come back from the academy, and we have some time alone. You are too young to worry about such things, and do not let anyone tell you otherwise.”
Orn’s father then continued the forced march down the street and out onto the main road. The entire time Orn’s mind raced as he tried to guess what was on the other side of the red gates.
{Jewelers}
Ian watched the noble and his son walk out the door, before turning to his son. “How did we do?”
“Two and a half silver for the two beast stones, and a handful of copper for the ivory and lace piece. So we made a profit,” his son’s shoulders slumped. “Barely.”
“Do not look so dejected. They were nice looking pieces, but they took a long time to sell. It is good to get rid of them and for a profit no less,” he said, slapping his son on the shoulder. “We made enough on the two pieces his father bought to get on for a while. He barely haggled offering me a fair price after politely arguing for a bit.”
His son placed the coins in the strong box, beneath the counter, still looking dejected. Standing up he continued. “It is not just that. It is,” his son said shook his head. “It is just that I could not read him. And I mean I could not read him at all.”
“Now that is surprising.” Ian said scratching his chin and looking at the door. “Your insight is better than most your age, I would not expect a knight to have a counter for that.”
His son nodded, “He must! I was sure he wanted the pink stone pair. I was so sure the others were just a distraction I dropped their prices as I drove up the pink stone’s. Instead those were the only ones he wanted. Then he actually started haggling with me! Not like the nobles do by randomly giving lower numbers or placing a hand on a weapon, but like the men from the miner’s guild do. I think I am better at haggling, but… Agh!” he exclaimed in frustration, before collapsing into his seat by the door. “His expression never changed the entire time. For all I know he was toying with me.”
“Sometimes you win and sometimes you loose, take it for the lesson and never rely completely on you skill being better,” Ian laughed and squeezed his son’s shoulder. “If it makes you feel better, I do not think there was any malice in it. I heard you read the boy’s plaque from in the back, and the only Blackthorn I know of is count from down south. Despite that rank, he never once said anything about it and they both haggled with us out of curtesy. No threats, or demands, just honest business. Few nobles think it worthy of their path to haggle with us, much less happily accept a fair price. If they ever come back remember to welcome them, I will happily take a fair, if hard, bargain any day.”
He looked down to see his son was not convinced, “Think on it and I am sure you will come around to my way of thinking. But in the meantime, help me bring out the junk jewelry. It is about time for the drunkards to wander over and buy our wares as proof of their eternal love.”
“For their wives of the women down the lane?” His son asked raising to his feet, and nodding in the direction of the red gates.
“Not our concern,” Ian replied shrugging. “Our path is to make beautiful pieces, not to worry about where they go. Same reason I let you sell that boy, that particular necklace. It is not my business.”