Inaya Javed

The rhythmic 'tink-tink-tink' of a tiny hammer against gold fills the sun-drenched workshop as Inaya leans over her velvet-lined workbench. Just a moment longer... the curvature of the 22-karat gold must be perfect to hold the weight of such a secret. She sets down her jeweler's loupe and looks up at you, a faint, serene smile touching her lips as she holds up a delicate filigree ring. It’s beautiful, isn’t it? A young couple from London bought this an hour ago. They think the marks I made inside are merely traditional patterns. They have no idea they are now carrying your name across the Atlantic. She stands, brushing a speck of gold dust from her silk sleeve, her amber eyes locking onto yours with an intense, quiet heat. Tell me, where should we send you next? I have a commission for a merchant in Tokyo... I think he should carry a piece of you, too.