He returned to her stall a few days later, ready to barter and perhaps persuade her into giving him another test, and Kagome chastised herself for not discussing the details before he'd left.
Not that it was her fault. He'd made those comments about being distracted by her smile, of all things, and she'd completely forgotten why she'd called him out to the glade in the first place.
The back of her hand was still tingling, too.
Kagome pushed the bag of coins back toward him. "I don't need to be bribed. I'll take on the request." She eyed him for a moment, then motioned to his hip. "I assume you want a sword?"
His brows had narrowed into a scowl. "It was not my intention to bribe you. I know you are honourable."
Her chest tightened, but she brushed it off. "I appreciate that." She poked the satchel with the handle of her chisel. "Why the gold, then?"
"I assumed you would need funds to procure the necessary components, should you agree to the request."
She gave him a horrified look. "Are other people charging this much for weapons?" Did people see her prices and automatically think her work was cheaper in craftsmanship because she wasn't trying to gauge them?
"I would not know," he conceded. "You are the only one I have ever asked."
Those pesky butterflies were making themselves known again, and Kagome felt heat creep into her face. "Because I'm the first person you came across?"
"No." There was no hesitation in his answer, and the heat only got worse, so she busied herself with grabbing a rope so she could measure him. Doing her best not to smudge his pristine albeit simple tunic, she scribbled numbers on a piece of parchment.
"I'm also going to need a few locks of your hair," she said, stepping back behind her booth. "With the root intact." He raised an eyebrow, and she grinned. "It's so the sword will only acknowledge you." It was something she'd studied meticulously from her mother. Anyone could handle a sword with a few lessons, but to truly master it, a weapon had to become one with its owner.
Each one her mother had crafted had been specifically made for each soldier. Regardless of how much youkai blood flowed through their veins, the best warriors treated the combination of metal and bone with the utmost respect. Kagome refused to give up the tradition.
The prince frowned again, and she sighed. "Look, I have no delusions of grandeur, but if you want the sword to work properly, I need—"
"I had thought it would be a tooth."
Kagome blinked a few times—as far as she knew, the prince didn't have a sense of humour—but when he didn't continue, her expression became horrified. "A tooth? Why would I need something barbaric like that?"
"The other soldiers have mentioned it," he said, the stripes on his cheeks darkening.
Groaning, she rotated her shoulders in aggravation. "I won't knock other smiths' techniques, but using teeth is kind of archaic." She looked around even though no one else was close to her stall, then leaned closer, her voice barely above a whisper. "I use hair because then the weapon's power grows with you. If you get stronger, the core will as well. A tooth dies once it's removed from your mouth."
Using part of the wielder to craft the weapon meant it needed to be something substantial. Many youkai had personal attacks that utilized specific areas of their body, but once they were separated, the power became stagnant. It wasn't essential to forging an effective weapon, but Kagome wanted to be the best, which meant using the best techniques.
Inuyoukai were known for their claws and fangs—the prince had inherited his mother's poisonous abilities—but if their fight was anything to go by, his power would only grow. And who knew when the next opportunity to create a sword for royalty would arise? She may as well put all her dragon eggs in one basket.
Kagome suddenly realized she hadn't pulled away after divulging her family's secrets, the scent of wild mint and winter storms wafting past her nose. She couldn't resist inhaling, taking it deep into her lungs before straightening. She could feel his eyes on her but avoided his gaze as she checked over his measurements.
"You have yet to tell me your name," he said, voice low.
"Is that a requirement?" she asked, wincing at how breathy she sounded. Being on a first-name basis was dangerous, especially with where her mind was wandering.
"Perhaps not," he mused, fingers drumming on the edge of her stall. "But I still wish to know it."
She bit her lip, debating how to say no to a crown prince, but came up empty, sighing softly before turning around. "It's Kagome." She shuddered as he tried it out, the syllables sliding over his lips in a tantalizing caress that had her mind wandering even further. She immediately squashed the thoughts, though it was hard with how he was looking at her.
"It suits you."
She ran a hand through her hair, then gave him a cheeky smile. "Thanks. It was a birthday present."
He blinked owlishly, then chuckled. "I am glad you are getting good use out of it."
"Over twenty years so far." They stood in awkward silence, the low hum from the mingling villages attempting to pop the intimate bubble they'd created, and she finally tapped the parchment between them. "I should be able to get most of these within a week. Do you need it by a specific time?"
The prince shook his head. "Not unless my mother insists I join her for tea with the southern delegates." Kagome bit the inside of her cheek. The avian clan from the south were known for their boisterous songs and overbearing plumage, many of the servants in the shiro filtering into the village when they visited, but that wasn't her place to say.
"I'll send a messenger when everything else is in order. The hairs need to be as fresh as possible," she said at his enquiring look. They hadn't negotiated a price, but the sack of coins was still untouched, and Kagome had the feeling he wasn't planning on taking any of it back, so after confirming he preferred to fight right-handed, she promised to get started right away.
He lingered around her stall as she sketched out what the sword would look like, only leaving after his vassal came by, squawking about searching for him for hours. The prince met her gaze, rolling his eyes before bowing slightly. She could tell he wanted to say more but wasn't about to voice anything personal in front of the toad.
She bowed in turn, not wanting to leave the wrong impression, but raised her chin when the vassal squinted at her. The prince turned from her stall, his curt command leaving no room for negotiation, and the toad scampered after him, bulbous eyes still squinting as they disappeared into the crowd.