Chapter 68. Carving a Future

Avery’s POV

The weight of my father’s refusal still clung to me like a stubborn shadow, but I had long since learned that obstacles weren’t dead ends; they were only detours. If he wouldn’t grant me access to the mines, then I would carve my own path.

Sitting cross-legged on the floor of my small room, I surveyed the chaos around me; old books stacked haphazardly, scattered notes filled with half-formed ideas, remnants of my time at the bar. The air was thick with dust and the faint scent of aged parchment, but I barely noticed. My mind was already turning, pulling pieces together, shaping something from the wreckage of my circumstances.

I had spent months observing people at the bar, watching how money moved and how wealth was flaunted. People’s desires weren’t always practical, sometimes, they were sentimental.

Trinkets, keepsakes, symbols of power and status, these things held as much, if not more, value than necessities. The right story could make