"Wow."

"Yesssssss, it's perfect!"

"Okay, I. Wow," he repeats, a bit breathless. "I could almost pretend to be powerful, wearing this."

"Become powerful, wearing this, Vallynn. Become famous, become renowned, achieve greatness and become the stuff of legends. And then pay me the money you owe me, when it no longer means anything to either of us," she says, grinning a sharklike grin.

"Now if only I had a staff to match."

She steps away from him and shrugs. "That one is outside my remit. You'll find someone else, I'm sure."

...and she slumps onto a chair.

"—hey, shit, are you okay?" he asks, scrambling over to her to check on her.

"Fine," she says, lifting a hand to stop him. "It's just—it was a lot of work and it was so worth it, everything will go right, everything will work, I'm—" She looks to be on the verge of tears.

"...yeah. Congratulations. It really is amazing."

"Oh, shut up, you narcissist."

"Sayeth the jaguar of the leopard."

"...what?"

"...is that not a saying? It is in Brasilese. You know, both of them have spotted hides and such?"

"That's a stupid saying. Just shut up and get out of those clothes."

"I just got in them!"

"Yeah, well, you can't fuck me in them, chop chop we don't have all day. ...actually, I changed my mind, keep the robe, just get rid of everything else."

"Yes, ma'am."

"Holy shit."

"—what's up?"

"Is that Evelin's work?"

"The robe? Yeah."

"...I gotta say I didn't think she actually had it in her."

"Evelin who?" asks Astrid, taking a seat next to Gaël and across the table from Janus.

"She's kind of a mage but kind of not? She wants to be the best enchanted gear maker on Midgard."

"She only said Rune-Midgard to me."