Misplaced Anger

Ruineth waited for Estarfin to leave, feeling the heat of the anger flow through her. How dare he, after not speaking with her for years. She picked up one of the blunt knives next to her, gritting her teeth and grinding the metal to a sharp point on the stone wheel.

It had been two days and nights since his visit, and her temper had finally cooled. She had completed her latest commission and looked at the set of knives with pride. Yet she saw his teaching in their intricate design, even now. Had she been too harsh? He had come to her with nothing to gain, no favour to ask. He had simply wished to explain, and at once it struck her how hard that must have been for him, but she has simply thrown it back in his face, seeking to wound him. She had been cruel, and had named him utterly empty. She must make it right.

She walked quickly to his rooms, at times breaking into a run before calming herself. There was still time, she could explain, could apologise herself. She finally reached his rooms and knocked loudly on the door. She waited a moment, then knocked again.
"Who is that?" a voice called from the path than ran behind the rooms.
"I seek Estarfin. Urgently."
Ladrochan walked around to face her. "I am afraid he left this morning, riding to the coast I believe."
Ruineth stared at him, then blinked quickly. "Of course. Thank you." Ladrochan nodded and began to unlock the door. "Why are you entering his rooms?"
Ladrochan frowned "He asked me to fetch something for him that he had no time for. Who are you to question me?"
Ruineth stood tall. "I am Ruineth, once his apprentice, now... That does not matter."
Ladrochan nodded, suddenly understanding. "Of course, Lady Ruineth. The instruction concerned you. A strange matter. Come." He gestured for her to follow him into Estarfin's empty rooms. "Ah. Here it is, as he said." He reached a hand and plucked something from a shelf. Then he turned, placed it in her hand and bowed. "Now, I take my leave. Good night."
Ruineth nodded, then looked down. In her hand sat a beautiful green gem, the size of a thrush egg. She stumbled into a chair; she knew the gem, she had seen it before mounted in a circlet of gold. She knew the story of the circlet also. Then she wept, for what it was, what it meant, what could have been and for what was lost.