After her dazzling display at the Frostvale Queen’s gala, where she’d designed and presented the royal crown, Niamh suddenly found herself swamped with bespoke jewelry requests.
It was almost ironic—she didn’t even have a proper office to work in, yet the city’s elite had taken notice of her craftsmanship that night. Now, they were reaching out to her, quietly commissioning unique pieces.
Not that she was complaining. It was a good problem to have, and it rekindled her old ambition to relaunch her own company.
She knew better than to reach out to her former investors. They’d only been interested in her because Julian Neville had pulled strings behind the scenes. Niamh was convinced that the less she had to do with Julian now, the better it would be for both of them.
Even with her winnings from racing, she was still short on initial capital. So, she decided to take it slow—build things up from scratch, one commission at a time, and only think about expansion when she’d saved enough.
For now, she borrowed workspace at FY—a high-end jewelry brand with a fully equipped studio. It was easily the most professional setup she could access.
She’d tried to talk to Peter about paying rent for the space, but he’d shut her down immediately.
“Talking about money just makes things awkward,” he’d said.
Niamh had to bite back a wry laugh.
In this day and age, she thought, it’s *not* talking about money that ruins relationships.
She spent the entire morning hunched over her workbench at FY, eyes straining from the intricate details. She was just rubbing her forehead when someone knocked at the door.
“Come in!” she called absently, looking up to see two men standing in the doorway—
Elmer and Peter.
She blinked, surprised to see Elmer here. He was dressed in an immaculate white suit, even more elegant than the one he’d worn at the gala. Peter, too, had traded his usual look for something sharper.
Niamh cocked her head. Was today some special occasion she’d forgotten about?
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