It had been a long morning, the tannery thick with the sharp sting of lye and smoke. Ellyn had her sleeves rolled to the elbow, scraping a half-cured hide across the beam, humming to herself to keep the rhythm. Her father had gone to the market to collect lime, leaving her to tend the work alone.

The tannery door creaked open, letting in a shaft of light and the sound of boots on the packed dirt floor.

Ellyn looked up from the hide, pushing a stray braid back from her cheek. “You’ll be wanting my father, but he’s out. If it’s leather you’ve come for, you’ll have to deal with me.”