"I—" Marron stopped. The wariness in Petra's face was real and justified. She was a stranger inside Petra's restaurant, asking to handle her blade. If the roles were reversed,
She was a woman alone in her restaurant with a stranger asking to handle a blade. Of course she was suspicious.
"I'm not trying to buy it," Marron said carefully. "Or trick you. Or—" She took a breath. This was dangerous territory. "I'm trying to understand it. That's all."
"Understand it?" Petra's hand was definitely on the knife handle now. "It's a knife. You use it to cut things. What's there to understand?"
"Have you ever noticed," Marron said slowly, "that when you use it, your cuts are always perfect? That you can sense exactly where to cut, how deep, what angle?"
Petra went very still. The kitchen was silent except for the bubbling stock and the distant street sounds.
"How would you know that?" Petra's voice was soft, dangerous.
"Because I've used similar tools," Marron said. She was committed now, had to keep going even though her heart was racing. "Tools that help you understand your craft better. That teach you things you couldn't learn any other way."
"You're talking about magic." Petra's grip on the knife handle tightened. "Enchanted items."
"Not exactly enchanted," Marron said. "Made with understanding. Made by craftspeople whose skill was so profound it became functional magic. Tools that partner with their users instead of just serving them."
"That sounds like mythology."
"So did the knife showing you where to cut," Marron pointed out. "Until it did."
Petra stared at her, calculation and wariness warring across her face. "Let's say I believe you. Let's say this knife is more than just good quality mythril. Why would you care?"
Because I want to collect the seven Legendary Tools, learn what lessons they have, and become the best by working with them. Also protecting them from anyone who wants to misuse them.
While completely true, it made Marron sound very deluded, unless they believed in the Tools.
She took a deep breath and began talking.
"Because I study pre-cataclysm craft," Marron said instead. "Because these tools are rare and important and most people who have them don't know what they're carrying. Because—" She stopped, deciding to risk honesty. "Because I think understanding these tools helps us understand the world before the cataclysm. The values, the craftsmanship, the way people worked then."
"And you want to study my family's knife," Petra said flatly.
"I want to understand it," Marron corrected. "But I understand why you'd be suspicious. A stranger shows up asking about your most valuable possession, talking about magic and historical significance. That's..." She gestured helplessly. "That's weird. I get it."
"It is weird," Petra agreed. "It's also the kind of thing that gets people robbed. Or worse." She picked up the knife, holding it casually but with clear competence.
"So here's what's going to happen. You're going to leave my restaurant. You're going to forget about my knife. And if you come back, if you send people asking questions, if I hear any rumors about my family's blade—"
She let the sentence hang in the air.
"I understand," Marron said, and meant it.
Petra was protecting something precious, and Marron had come across as exactly the kind of threat she should be wary of. "I'm sorry for bothering you."
She stood to leave, disappointment and frustration warring in her chest.
The knife was there, just out of reach. And she'd handled this situation completely wrong.
But just as she thought hope was gone--
"...wait a second," Petra said.
Marron turned, eyes wide. "Y-yes?"
Hopefully she wouldn't get stabbed.
Petra looked down at the knife, her expression unreadable. "You said...you used tools similar to this? That they taught you things?"
Marron's brow furrowed.
This has got to be a test. Or...uh, maybe she's interested in the Legendary Tools after all?
Whatever changed Petra's mind, Marron was taking the opportunity.
"Care," Marron said honestly. "Patience. Generosity. Each tool taught me a different aspect of what it means to cook properly. What it means to feed people in a way that honors both the food and the eater."
"And you think my knife would teach you something too."
"I think it could teach anyone something," Marron said carefully. "Anyone willing to learn. But—" She hesitated. "But tools like this choose their users. They partner with people who understand them. If your knife is teaching you, if you're learning from it, then it's already doing what it was made to do. With you. That's... that's good. That's what should happen."
Petra looked at the knife for a long moment. Then she set it down on the cutting board, deliberately moving her hand away from it.
"Come back tomorrow," she said. "Same time. I need to think about this. About what you've said. About whether I want to have this conversation at all."
"Of course," Marron said. "Thank you for hearing me out."
"I don't completely believe you just yet," Petra warned.
"I haven't decided anything except that you're either very honest or very strange. Maybe both."
"Not entirely wrong," Marron admitted.
"Tomorrow," Petra repeated. "And Louvel? If you're trying to con me, if this is some scheme—you should know that I grew up in the lower ring. I know how to handle people who try to take advantage of me."
"I believe you," Marron said. She did. Petra had the kind of wariness that came from experience, the kind of readiness that suggested she'd defended herself before.
Marron left The Silver Cleaver as the sun was fully rising, her heart pounding with anxiety and frustration. She'd found the knife. She'd confirmed it was Legendary. But she'd also spooked its owner, revealed too much without revealing enough, and now she had to wait to see if Petra would even be willing to continue the conversation.
Tomorrow she'd find out if she'd completely blown her chance or if Petra's curiosity was stronger than her suspicion.
If you find any errors ( broken links, non-standard content, etc.. ), Please let us know < report chapter > so we can fix it as soon as possible.