The man flexed his newly reattached hand once, then twice, as though testing whether reality had truly agreed to keep it.
It held.
He looked at Seraphine, then at the hand, then back at her with clear delight.
"Thank you, miss beautiful," he said. "Now tell me, what do you want in return? Gold? Treasures? Or perhaps... me?"
The young Seraphine's brows rose a fraction.
Then the man laughed at himself and lifted both hands in surrender.
"I'm joking. Mostly."
She stared at him without amusement.
He glanced around her cramped workspace then, and his expression changed. The humor remained, but something more thoughtful entered it.
"Truthfully, I came here in a hurry, so I brought nothing with me." He tilted his head, studying the worn blades, improvised clamps, reused thread, cracked ceramic bowls, and carefully cleaned but clearly overused tools laid out around the hut. "But I know a craftsman. A very good one. If you'd like, I can have a proper set of equipment made for you."
