At twenty-four, Evangeline had inherited her father's workshop three years prior, along with his reputation as one of the finest clockwork artisans in the Lower Quarter. Her delicate fingers, stained permanently with oil and brass polish, moved with practiced precision as she assembled the intricate components of a mechanical songbird, its tiny gears and springs requiring the utmost care. The bird was a commission from Lady Pemberton, one of the few aristocrats who still patronized craftspeople from the Lower Quarter, and Evangeline knew that its success could mean the difference between prosperity and poverty for another month.