The door to the smithy creaked open, and a girl with long blonde hair stepped inside, carrying a wooden basket under her arm.
"Hey, everyone!" Ivana called out cheerfully.
"Oh ho ho... I sure miss your delicious cooking, Ivana!"
"I brought plenty, Mr. Fokil."
Broken raised his head, spotting Ivana. She waved at him with a friendly smile. "Hi there. Hungry?"
"Yes, definitely!"
Ivana set the food on the table, and soon the mouthwatering aroma of her cooking filled the smithy, blending with the earthy scent of fire and iron.
Fokil, already eager, walked over and took a seat at the table, motioning for Broken to join him.
"Come on, kid. This young girl has cooked a lot for us; don't just leave her hanging."
Broken smiled, setting down his tools. He sauntered over to the table and joined them for dinner.
Fokil’s really raising the stakes here—and the flags!
Between cursing Broken if he doesn’t “take responsibility” for Ivana and warning him about wasting resources, it’s like our favorite blacksmith is just daring fate to mess things up.