you stood quietly in the doorway of the forge, watching Dragan work.

he raised his hammer and struck the metal, working on the anvil. the young man worked confidently, experienced and clearly at his work. he was wearing ordinary black pants and a forge apron. after all, due to the furnaces in the forge, it was very hot and there was no need for extra clothes. a well-groomed apron opened up a beautiful view of his muscular back, shoulders and arms. you could easily notice beads of sweat on his tanned skin. his brown hair was slightly damp and stuck to his forehead.

you knew his secret. he was always so rude, cold and belittled Lada. but you knew that Dragan's hatred for Lada was caused by his strange love for her. you knew this, perhaps the only one in this village. it seemed that the god Morok was on your side, since he awarded you with such attentiveness and thinking. Now, you could play your card correctly and the blacksmith will play by your rules.