Months later.

“Ack!” I cried out, Adrian beside me, “I pricked my finger!” I yelled out.

Damn needles!

I had underestimated tailoring. Gauze on both hands from pricking myself constantly, I was getting upset with myself.

“That finger just healed too…” I muttered to myself, wrapping the finger for the third time this month.

“Don’t wrap your finger just yet,” he corrected me, “Wash it first,” he said, grabbing a bowl of warm water and putting it on the table beside me.

“Yeah, yeah,” I agreed.

“You’ve made great progress,” Adrian reassured me, “Don’t be fooled. I wouldn’t mind hiring you to be my assistant after I’m done teaching you,” he offered, continuing to work on the cloth in his own hand.

This wasn’t the first time he had offered this. He seemed to think highly of me.

As I considered his offer for the second time today, he threw a completed piece of cloth to me, “That’s the third one since I’ve finished one of my one,” I said.

“I’m not even going that fast,” Adrian said, starting work on another cloth, “Besides, you’re almost done,” he barely glanced at the cloth on my lap, “You’ll be done before I’m done with my fourth.”

I shut up, focusing on the cloth in front of me, eager to fulfill Adrian’s expectations.

“I gave that ring of yours to my wife,” Adrian said, “She’s been less fussy since I did so,” he said, laughing a little.

“You don’t like rings?” I said, noting that Adrian hadn’t kept the ring I gifted him.

“I hate things on my fingers,” he said, “It’s not good for work that requires my hands,” I nodded mechanically at his practical reasoning. That made logical sense.

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Adrian said something to me, “Hey,” he said suddenly, as if resolving himself, “I’ve been thinking…” Adrian stopped working on the cloth on his lap, turning his eyes away from it and up to me.

I stared back, reciprocating.

“Before you came to the village,” Adrian asked, “What did you do? I can’t get a handle on you,” he asked. I blinked once, unsure of how to answer.

“Is it personal?” Adrian asked, giving me a chance to retreat.

I rejected it, “No,” I shook my head, “It’s a natural question. Don’t feel burdened to avoid asking about it,” I said. I reached behind my back, looking for a cigarette of maryseed.

“Oi,” Adrian interrupted me, “If you’re going to smoke,” he said, “Don’t do it here. This is my workshop.”

My hand stopped, and I pulled it back to the front of my body, “Sorry,” I said, with a blank look on my face.

“So,” I reminded him, “Your question?”

“Is that still on the table?” he asked. I smiled slowly, shaking my head. Putting a hand to my mouth… I spoke.

“I was…” I paused, “a mage.”

Adrian chuckled and then looked at me with a strange look. There was a short silence. Adrian stood up, and inspected my face, looking behind my ears and touched my forehead.

“Oh,” he said, with a strange look on his face. Then he chuckled. I didn’t make any sound in response. He began to laugh. Then he was bellowing with excitement, “I don’t know the slightest thing about mages! So they exist!?” He was genuinely awed.

“It’s nothing so great,” I said, “Just think, a couple months ago,” I looked at the tailoring needle in my hand, “I didn’t know a single thing about tailoring either. We’re not so different,” I told him, “Can I trust your discretion? I’d rather this not become public knowledge around here. I told you because I trust you.”

Adrian smiled, “Only if you teach me some of that magic of yours,” and I furrowed my brows.

“It’s not something that can be simply taught.”

“I taught you how to tailor,” he responded with an enigmatic smile.

“Tailoring and magic are completely different,” I firmly stated.

“Weren’t you just saying they were the same?” Adrian cocked his head, catching me in a trap of words.

I sighed, pinching my temples. I shook my head, grabbing the cloth that lay on my lap, ignoring Adrian’s words and continuing my work as his ‘chore boy’. He couldn’t outwit me if I didn’t speak to him, I declared in my mind.