Rhode could already guess a few things without Captain Ironhill saying anything more.
This was a tragic love story.
Coldsteel puffed out his beard and grumbled, "Hmph, what's so great about that Brooke Moustache? He's just a bartender!"
Presumably, this Moustache fellow was Mira's husband.
A bread merchant and a bartender seemed like a good match no matter how you looked at it.
Perhaps, in Dwarf society, a blacksmith held a higher social standing than a bartender.
Of course, Rhode couldn't really comment. He still knew nothing about the love and resentment involved.
But did this mean he really wouldn't be able to buy Mira's Song?
Fortunately, Captain Ironhill continued, "Stop clinging to this Mira's Song all day. I say you should give it to our guest. Out of sight, out of mind. Give it some time, and you'll forget. Isn't this why you requested a transfer to Dun Garok?"
Captain Ironhill's suggestion was absolutely wonderful.
And although he was a captain, the highest-ranking officer here, he clearly had a good relationship with blacksmiths like Coldsteel. He even knew all about their personal affairs.
Dwarves probably didn't have the same rigid class distinctions among themselves as humans did.
"No, I won't! I want my Mira's Song! I want my Mira..." Coldsteel sounded as though he was about to cry.
What was this thing called love, that it could drive a blacksmith to forge a sword out of longing...?
Now Rhode felt a little embarrassed.
Forget it. He'd leave it alone and look around for another sword.
Just then, Lilia's clear, childlike voice rang out in the room, delivering a whole string of remarks:
"Oh, Rhode, so this is where you are!"
"You're here too, Uncle Dwarf Captain!"
"Oh, another Dwarf uncle! Hello, I'm Lilia."
"Ah, that sword you're holding is