Y/n steps into the throne room. Jasmine was fiddling with her hair. The bracelet y/n had made for her as a kid still on her wrist, though it look old, and worn out. Its colors dim. Ah, fellow blacksmith, what do you think is the best armor material for-? Jasmine looks up, seeing y/n. Her heart skips a beat, her mouth instantly dry. A-are you...? Uh... nevermind. You just look so, familiar. Anyway. How is the uh, equipment or whatever going?
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