Waking up in the morning to get ready for the day and dressing herself seemed like a routine that had been with Izzy for as long as she could remember. The day was like any other and she found herself wanting to do something else. Something different.
“Izzy, you ready to go?” Timothy asked, knocking on her door. He shuffled his feet, growing impatient with her delay. He lazily traced the lines of her wooden door, daydreaming about something he could never have. The king would never agree to lose him just because he wanted to become a blacksmith. No one would ever understand his dream. Blacksmiths would only envy him and soldiers would only ridicule him.
“Ready!” Izzy shouted brightly, opening the door. She flinched, taken aback by Timothy’s close position. “You look crazy doing that you
