Oslo's friend lived closer to the mansion than almost anything else. It was only a ten-minute ride between the two locations versus the half-hour it took to reach the nearest smithy. According to Oslo, Turner was employed directly by the Sallows, making everything from plates to bowls, cups and mugs, vases and pitchers, and practically anything else functional.

Bellavarn had actually taken classes in pottery in high school. It was one of the only things he enjoyed and remembered, since working on the wheel was a fun experience. A potter's wheel is used to throw clay. Not actually tossing it. It was more like spinning. Like his invention should do.

As they pulled up, he could see several brick kilns peeking over a short wall. There were likely to be several pieces inside right now.

Clay was often fired twice. Before the first firing, shaped clay is called greenware. After the first firing greenware transformed into bisqueware. This process made the clay practically unbreakable. You could bury bisqueware in the ground and leave it for ten thousand years without it degrading.

A second firing wasn't necessary if your purpose was function. However, if you didn't want a chalky bowl, glazes were a special kind of paint that transformed pottery from a necessity into an artform.

Well... Glazes also served as effective waterproof.

A glaze was never the same color twice. Depending on the glaze's consistency, how watered down it is, or if two different glazes are accidentally mixed, the result will likely differ from what you had in mind. This may sound like a nightmare for artists, and it is for some, but this brings a lot of variety and spice to a piece.

It was a struggle. Bellavarn remembered hating dealing with glazes but eventually thought of it as allowing the artwork to take on a life of its own. There were times when he was too controlling, needing to plan and piece together every detail perfectly. Keeping an open mind was one of the hardest hurdles Bellavarn had to overcome.

It was too bad he ended up quitting.

"Turner should be inside."

Bellavarn wanted to make a joke about Turner's name and a potter's wheel, but the wording didn't line up the way he wanted it to, so he refrained from embarrassing himself by trying. He was also Oslo's friend, so it would be inappropriate.

The door opened and Bellavarn could immediately smell the clay. To be exact, it smelled dusty. Everything was layered in dust. Reason being that clay was a three parts dust. Making your own clay could actually be dangerous because of the particles getting into your lungs. People who did ceramics in their garage without filtering the air could end up in the hospital with ruined lungs.

"Hello?"

There was no bell on the door as this was a workshop and not a store. Visitors were unlikely to come by the actual workplace unless they were buying in bulk or were looking for an apprenticeship.

"Over here."

A masculine voice came from around the corner. After a few steps inside Bellavarn and saw a middle-aged man bending down over at a spinning wheel. It was powered by a footpedal, and he was currently had an entire arm stuck down a tall vase, shaping it from inside and out.

Bellavarn waited patiently for him to finish. It was always a wonder to watch masters work. Unfortunately, Turner's display of skill was over soon.

Turner stopped pedaling and looked up from his work. His eyes widened when he saw Oslo..

Turner's eyes moved to Bellavarn and immediately placed him.

"What a rare visit. Seeing as you brought the young master, I assume you didn't come to share a drink?"

Turner wiped his hands in a bucket. Wet clay slopped off and pooled at the bottom.

"Next time, I'm afraid. We're her because the young master has a new invention is in need of your skills."

"An invention? It isn't something bizarre, is it?"

Bellavarn laughed.

"No. No. It is a small thing. I imagine you could create a dozen on the wheel in an hour. It will take some slight sculpting, but it shouldn't be too far from your norm."

Turner dried his hands on his apron. His brows furrowed as he looked to Oslo.

"I've been meaning to see you, Oslo. You see, was approached by Astor a few days ago."

Oslo's gaze hardened.

"What did they offer you?

"A newer, larger workspace, and half a dozen apprentices."

Turner sighed.

"I'm sorry, old friend."

"I see. So you've already accepted."

"I was going to visit and tell you in person, but, I guess you beat me to it. I'm sorry, to both of you. It wasn't a decision I made lightly."

This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

Oslo has known Turner for over two decades. They met even before Oslo was working for the Sallows. Now, all of a sudden, his friend was leaving.

While Oslo reconciled and caught up with Turner, Bellavarn shared a whispered conversation with Kerv.

"Has someone been following us? Are there any bugs on our persons?"

Kerv creased his brows.

"I don't detect anything, and no one followed us. They'd have to be one of a kind to fool me."

"Check outside to be sure."

Kerv nodded and left back out the front door. Bellavarn didn't think Kerv would find anything. Whoever it was, did they somehow know where Bellavarn would be going over? Was this part of some other ploy to encroach on Sallow territory? With Astor's involvement proven, there was zero possibility that this was coincidence.

Was Astor the one who spread the rumors? If so, how did he find out in the first place?

With increasing questions and few answers, Bellavarn tuned back in to the conversation.

"You know I have trouble filling enough orders to keep myself afloat. It is just me here after my last apprentice was poached. Astor's offer is too much to pass up."

"Why haven't you come to me sooner? I could have done something if you told me."

Turner breathed in, exhaling.

"It isn't just that."

"What else is there?"

"Kelly. My daughter. She heard some rumors about master Bellavarn and has been pressuring me to leave. I told her it was slander and noble gossip, but she wouldn't have it. She threw a fit and declared she wouldn't talk to me unless I accepted Astor's offer. I held out for a while, wanting to talk to you first, but I haven't been able to leave the workshop."

Turner appeared to age a decade right in front of them. Oslo knew that being a single father wasn't easy; he couldn't blame his old friend.

However, Bellavarn felt a migraine coming on.

It wasn't just Astor poaching someone. This was all due to that rumor spreading and a girl I didn't even know throwing a hissy fit.

Bellavarn couldn't begrudge Turner. Unlike the rest, Turner had very valid reasons for refusing his offer. Astor offered a huge improvement in quality of life while also gaining the approval of his daughter.

"I understand your reasons."

Turner put his hands in his pockets. It was as if saying his hands were tied. Bellavarn couldn't give Turner any information on his invention if he were defecting to Astor. Revealing that he had a new invention to his competitors was already a disastrous outcome.

Kerv returned and gave Bellavarn a shake of his head. Bellavarn rolled his neck, eliciting a crack.

"When do you plan on moving?"

"In a week. Astor will be sending someone to help me move my tools. The new workshop isn't far, but it isn't close either."

"What if I asked you to move sooner?"

Everyone looked at Bellavarn, but he was too upset to continue speaking nicely.

"Sooner? How soon?"

"By tomorrow. I'll pay you for any equipment you leave behind as a severance fee. I will even hire someone tomorrow morning to move whatever you need. You will be up and out within a day."

"Well. That would save me a lot of trouble. That is very kind of you, master Bellavarn."

"I have two conditions."

Bellavarn held up two fingers.

"The first is that you can't speak to Astor House about your time under the Sallows."

"Hmph. I won't sell you out if that is what you are worried about. I owe Oslo more than that."

The words were bittersweet. On the one hand, Oslo's long-time acquaintance was leaving to join a rival House. On the other hand, it wasn't like all the years working together would be obsolete. Turner clearly held respect towards him and the Sallows for putting up with him for so long.

"The last condition is non-negotiable."

Turner rubbed his stomach and Oslo seemed suddenly concerned.

"You will never return to Sallow employ."

Everyone else present was startled. It was equivalent to cutting away Turner's safety net. If Astor suddenly reneged, Turner would have nowhere to go.

"Bell-"

"No. I don't care."

Bellavarn shrugged off Kerv.

"I am being fair. I've been insulted one too many times today. Now someone close to home ups and leaves, moved by a stupid rumor. I've had enough. I am giving him a chance at a huge severance pay and seeing him off. Do not belittle my kindness."

"Master Bellavarn, Turner is an old friend. If something were to happen, he should be able to return."

"I can't do that, Oslo. Not only does Duke Astor seem to be poaching every major crafter in our nearby territory, but he has also been spreading and growing that rumor to turn people to his side. If Turner defects to Astor, I can't ever trust him again, even at your word. Willingly or unwillingly, he would just be another spy in our midst."

Oslo wanted to fight Bellavarn's words, but he knew them to be true. It was his fault for allowing things for Turner to deteriorate over the years.

Turner spoke, ending Oslo's inner thoughts.

"It is fine. I understand. Bellavarn is being more than reasonable. I am glad he grew up with a head on his shoulders."

"Turner."

Oslo buckled a bit from the hand slamming on his shoulder. Turner laughed with a smile.

"We can still grab a share that drink. I just can't work for you anymore."

Oslo glanced at Bellavarn. He appeared not to like the idea but gave Oslo a small nod anyway. Letting them remain in contact was also a chance for leaks, but Bellavarn couldn't bring himself to deny Oslo of his friendship.

"You will be paying, with the Astors money."

Turner just laughed harder.

"Fair enough."

=

In a sour mood, Bellavarn trudged outside with Kerv while Oslo lingered behind.

"What do you plan on doing now, Bell? Any easy options are gone."

"I'll do what I said. I will make them myself."

Bellavarn's expression was set.

"That is why I am paying for him to leave his tools behind. The workshop is nearby to the house. I will just be spending more time here instead of the library."

"Does that mean I will be joining you?"

"Get used to it."

Kerv resigned himself. The cold weather would prevent him from napping, and there would be security concerns with how exposed the workshop was. He'd have to ask Henry to join him to stave off boredom.

The duo was walking back to the carriage when Kerv spotted someone approaching. They were bundled up in clothes, but it was clearly a woman. Using context clues, he gathered this was Turner's daughter, Kelly. She paused when she saw the emblem on the carriage. The two enough were close enough to see each other's eyes.

Not good.

Kerv tried to hurry Bellavarn and block his view, but it was too late. Bellavarn stopped walking.

There was seething hatred in the girl's eyes. As if Bellavarn was her mortal enemy.

"Bell, don't-"

He was about to make an excuse but stopped when he saw Bellavarn's face. Kerv was expecting Bell to be furious after the day's events, but Bell's face was as if he'd seen a ghost.

His words meek.

"What did I do? ...For her to look at me that way."

Kerv switched tactics.

"Bell. She doesn't know. She was told a story. She doesn't know you."

"She is glaring at me like I killed her mother in front of her."

"Bell."

Bellavarn turned away and walked into the carriage, closing the door himself.

Kerv looked back at Turner's nameless daughter. Just another face passing by. But it was her who tipped Bellavarn over the edge. He cursed her and Duke Astor.

He watched her stomp inside and nearly bowl over Oslo as he walked out. Oslo furrowed his brows, his mouth slightly parted.

"Did something happen?"

Kerv glowered.

"Yeah. She just pushed Bellavarn off the edge."