"You're so lucky I adore you," Cara said, throwing her arm dramatically over Nysa's shoulder.
"Lucky?" Nysa smiled, her fingers deftly threading a chain through the pendant she'd been working on. "You just like bossing me around."
"I do," Cara grinned. "But you're so talented, I need you to help me finish this new order for Lady Tannis. I'm swamped."
Nysa didn't hesitate. "Alright. But you'll let me know when she pays, right? I'll need the money for—"
"Of course," Cara cut in quickly, waving a hand. "Don't I always?"
She didn't.
Again and again, Cara would come with a desperate look, telling stories of rich clients who refused to pay, or claimed the jewelry wasn't ready. Sometimes she offered Nysa a few copper coins—enough for bread but not nearly enough for the time and skill poured into each piece.
"I'm sorry," she'd say with a soft pout. "I swear, when they pay me, you'll get your share."
But the payments never came.
Still, Nysa smiled. She never questioned. Cara was her friend.
.
.
That evening, while locking up the shop, Madame Selene pulled Nysa aside. Her tone was gentle but firm.
"Nysa," she began, "you know Cara well. You're close. But keep your eyes open."
Nysa blinked. "What do you mean?"
"She's clever. Charming. But she doesn't always have good intentions. Be careful who you trust, especially when your talent outshines others."
The words stung, even if they weren't meant to. Nysa offered a respectful nod and murmured a thank you, but a coil of unease tightened in her chest as she walked home.
At the gate of Uncle Jorren's house, Kaeli sat sharpening a broken quill with a knife, looking up with narrowed eyes as Nysa passed.
"You think you're better than us now, don't you?" she called out.
"No," Nysa said calmly. "I just want to help where I can."
Kaeli muttered something under her breath. Aunt Mara, still a little frail from her last illness, called weakly from inside, and Nysa hurried to her side, already rolling up her sleeves to take over the night's chores.
---
One evening, as the sun dipped behind the rooftops of Windale, Nysa scrubbed silver dust from her fingers at the basin outside the shop. Madame Selene had already locked the display cabinets and gone home. The other apprentices scattered one by one, but Cara lingered.
"You looked exhausted," Cara said as she handed Nysa a small cloth. "Long day?"
"Always," Nysa said, half-laughing. "Uncle Jorren made me scrub the kitchen before sunrise today. Then I had to patch Kaeli's skirt before coming here."
Cara leaned against the wall, her eyes drifting. "You shouldn't let them push you around so much."
"They're family."
"Barely," Cara muttered under her breath.
Nysa looked away. "It's not so bad. I have you, and I love the shop. It's enough."
Cara tilted her head. "You're too kind, you know that? One day, someone's going to take advantage of that heart of yours."
Nysa didn't catch the edge in her tone. She smiled faintly and wiped her hands dry.
---
The whispers started small.
"She's too close to that girl Cara."
"Hasn't she noticed? Cara always shows up with new shoes, new rings—but says she's broke when it's time to pay."
"I heard Nysa made that green jade necklace that won the contest at Lady Callen's gala. But Cara claimed it as hers."
The first time Nysa heard them, she froze behind the shop's curtains. Her heart beat fast, her fingers going cold. But then she shook her head and stepped away. No. They didn't know Cara like she did.
Later that day, Cara showed up with another order.
"Do you think you can finish this bracelet by tomorrow?" she asked, all smiles. "I told the client it was your design—well, my design, technically, but you get what I mean. They'll love it."
Nysa blinked, hesitating for a moment. "Didn't you say you weren't taking on any new orders this week?"
"I know, but she begged. She's an important woman, Nysa. Connections matter. And I'd never leave you behind, you know that."
Nysa nodded slowly and took the stones from her hand.
Nysa turned the stones over in her palm, the weight of them suddenly heavier. The whispers from earlier still hummed in the back of her mind, but she pushed them aside—mostly.
"Cara," she said, keeping her voice light, "you know that green jade necklace you wore to Lady Callen's gala?"
Cara paused mid-sentence, her smile never faltering. "Of course! Everyone adored it. Why?"
Nysa met her eyes. "Some people seem to think I made it."
Cara laughed—bright, unbothered. "Oh, Nysa, you did help with the clasp, didn't you? I must have forgotten to mention it." She waved a hand. "You know how these events are—so much fuss, so many names to remember."
Nysa studied her. It wasn't just the clasp. She'd designed the entire piece, carved the jade herself. But Cara's expression was so open, so sure, that for a moment, Nysa wondered if she was the one misremembering.
Cara looped an arm through hers. "Honestly, those busybodies should worry about their own work. Jealousy is so tacky." She squeezed Nysa's wrist. "You and I—we're partners. I'd never take credit for your genius."
Nysa hesitated. Then, slowly, she nodded. Cara was right. The rumors were just noise.
"Now," Cara said, pulling her toward the door, "Lady Dain's waiting, and I promised her this bracelet would be your best work yet. You'll make me look good, won't you?"
Nysa smiled. "Always."
And if the words tasted just slightly bitter on her tongue, she ignored it. Because Cara was her friend.
And friends trusted each other.
---
That night, while hunched over her tiny corner table with a candle flickering low, Lina passed by the room.
"You shouldn't trust that girl," her cousin muttered from the doorway.
Nysa looked up. "Whatttt?"
"You heard me."
"Why is everyone warning me against Cara?" she called after Lina, voice sharper than she meant it to be. "What has she even done to you guys?"
Lina stopped in the hallway but didn't turn around. "Nothing. That's the point."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
Finally, Lina glanced back, arms crossed. "It means she hasn't done anything to us—because we don't let her. But you?" She shook her head. "You hand her your work, your time, your trust. And what do you get back? A smile and someone else's name on your designs."
Nysa's fingers curled into her palm. "You don't know her like I do."
"No," Lina said quietly. "I just know what she is."
And with that, she disappeared down the hall, leaving Nysa alone with the flickering candle—and the slow, creeping doubt she couldn't quite smother.
---
The following day, Cara showed up with pastries and a grin, praising Nysa for being the best jeweler in the shop.
"You're a gem, Nysa. Truly. I don't know what I'd do without you."
Nysa blushed under the compliment. "It's nothing."
But deep inside her, something flickered—a shadow of unease she buried quickly.
---
And so the days continued.
Cara asked for more and gave less. People warned her more loudly now. Nysa's name began to spread in town, but always tied to Cara's lips. The kindness she'd held onto since childhood became her shield, but also her blindfold.
Still, Nysa smiled.
Because she believed in her friend.
Because she didn't know the storm that was slowly circling, waiting for the right moment to break.
.
.