20. Esther #2
By the time we place Reene in the stables and return to the tavern, the two old men on the rocking chairs are now passed out, though one still tightly holds his bottle with the remnants of a few mouthfuls.
I follow Regent into the tavern, a silence immediately falling over it.
I glance around the room, looking among emotions of disgust, curiosity, and disinterest. Most continue with their previous activities and discussions.
Regent leads us to a wooden table with two chairs, central in the room. Surprising, considering even I know it’s always best to hide in the dark, especially if we’re wanting to go unnoticed.
The room reeks of ale, urine, and body odor wafting from, well, most likely everyone. Two women giggle, strapped to much older men’s laps, their breasts on display, with no care that their nipples show.
I wonder how many of those in this room are fugitives, runaways, or castaways.
Everyone here has a story, because the likes of those more fortunate would never end up in a place like this.
A woman wearing a tight corset with her tits up to her throat walks over. She can’t look either of us in the eye.
I make a point to pull down the edge of my hood farther.
Even if it weren’t from the mask, places like this spread rumors and hate.
It’s the perfect breeding ground for information, but also the likes of someone working for Dahlia to stumble across our path.
After our recent encounter, I wasn’t so daring as to invoke this darker magic within me, still uncertain if it’s simply the real me with my binding coming undone or a deal struck from Lake Mahoori.
Either way, I was as uncomfortable with it as I was sitting across from this criminal, who both protected and threatened me, all the same.
“We’ll have two of those,” Regent requests as he points to two bowls of thick stew and what I suspect are pieces of meat in the ominous dish that looks unfavorably green. “And two ales.”
I wait until the woman leaves. “Wow, I feel like we’ve played this game before.” I think back to the tavern he took me to for my birthday.
“What was that, dear?”
“Nothing,” I grumble back as I try to shove the thought of him pressing me against the barn wall away. That immediately led to me fucking his hand into oblivion in the bathing chambers. I shuffle uncomfortably, literally trying to think of anything else. I cannot keep circling back to this.
He is off limits.
No finger fucking.
Hostage. What part of that seemed to slip my mind?
We sit in silence, and I can’t help but tap my finger against my knee.
Desperately wanting anything or anyone else to focus on as I scan the room, growing further frustrated that my body seems to focus only on the man sitting across from me.
I glance in his direction, then immediately look away from his coppery gaze that bores into me.
Even with that fucked-up mask, my body prickles with attention.
His knee brushes against mine, and I shoot him a death glare. A twinkle of what appears to be amusement dances in his eyes.
The woman wearing a tight corset walks over, offering two bowls of the death stew, which strangely has an appetizing smell.
I do everything but look at him, tentatively running a spoon over the top of it, expecting to remove some ungodly thick film.
I take a mouthful, surprised by its delightful taste, yet not daring enough to ask what kind of meat is in it.
She returns with two ales, and I swallow down a quarter in one gulp.
“Is the company that bad?” Regent says as he throws his bread roll.
I catch it, surprised but delighted by the extra piece. I was going to hide mine for Grimace to have later, but I suppose now I can have one too.
“You know it is,” I reply, watching him as he takes a swig of his own ale. His throat bobs, and I’m transfixed by the way his clay twists into his skin, yet beneath it all, I can imagine the thick veins that pulse with intricate markings when he’s mad.
Fuck me.
I realize then why he chose this table. He plays with his spoon and stew, but I can tell his focus is elsewhere, listening in on the conversations around us.
Despite all the colorful characters, only one other greer sits among them, weak compared to Regent, but he keeps to himself in the corner of the room.
“I heard she fled her husband, ran into the Passage of Child, and three days later, he found nothing but her bones,” we hear from one table. “When he returned her bones to bury them, he started going crazy. Telling locals she visited him every night. And then one day he just vanished.”
That was the passage we walked through to get to this village.
Regent told me to stay close and not to go off the beaten path, which acted more as a maze than anything else.
I suspect that if it weren’t for Regent, we would have easily gotten lost. His word of warning was clear.
No one is to walk amid it during the night.
I focus on a shadier-looking crew who sit by the window under dim light.
They exchange gambling cards while the dealer, with a hook for one hand, subtly serves small pouches.
They speak in code, evidently referring to the powder that the dealer is distributing.
He flashes his gold teeth as one of the buyers throws a bag of coins into the middle, clearly pleased with himself, none of them concerned with being caught.
Drug dealing isn’t uncommon even in Caldom Kingdom, where it’s forbidden.
The likes of substances such as these always make their way into crevasses.
Even I’ve tried a popular powder known as Blemish simply out of curiosity.
Made me jittery as fuck, and I thought I could fly off roofs.
Blaze was with me, supervising, and that night I was graced with not falling to my death.
The memory tugs a sad smile as I grow somber, thinking of him, wondering about his whereabouts. But mostly his wellbeing.