Dominic was twenty War Picks into the day, all Uncommon Quality, when a messenger jogged into the forge and handed him, Pops and a handful of other Journeymen and their Apprentices a folded letter on thick paper, with the Royal seal holding it closed.
They all seemed to be taking it in stride, so Dominic picked up one of the chisels and gently popped the wax free.
[You are cordially invited to dinner this evening in the third dining room of the palace main building. Dress code semiformal.]
It wasn't signed, but it seemed like everyone who got the letter had gotten the same thing, and they were all preparing to pack up for the evening to get ready. Dinner was in an hour and a half, and they would need most of that just to get clean and changed.
"Wait, before you go, I have to try your lucky oil bucket." One of the other apprentices called as Dominic finished packing away his tools for the evening.
