"Thank you." Marcella sets the broom aside, smiling a little at how genuinely eager he looks. Some of the work has clearly been done already: there are strips of prepared bamboo laid out alongside the spool of silk thread and cords and the small stack of silk pieces dyed in simple, brightly colored patterns. There are some paints left out beside a bigger covered jar, in case anyone wants to get creative with detailing.

"Ready to learn how it's done?" the enchanter asks, steadying the helm on a mannequin with one hand as she moves it out of the way. "It's really not that difficult if you have some patience. You can pick out whichever color you'd like; we're just going to cut it into the shape you want after the frame is on."

Felix leans back against the forge, left to go cold just for this day. He's watching them get down to work with a faint smile, and a nod to Terentius when he limps in from the house with a bucket of ashes. "Would you like some help, uncle...?"