Chapter 17 #2
We approach the counter, where a woman bartender stands, a hand propped on her hip as she spins a glass with the other.
I note her flushed skin and dark brown hair that swooshes down to her thighs in wide curls, as well as her thin, sharp ears.
Behind her, two arm-length violet wings hang lazily and brush along the floor ever so slightly when she moves.
Her hand twists a towel around the inside of a glass as she watches us.
“Good morning,” I say with a smile.
The woman blinks, bored. Her umber eyes rake over my body before she sets the glass on the wooden counter with a dull thud. Her hands settle on her waist. She raises her eyebrows and lifts her chin, prompting me to continue.
I swallow, noticing the murmurs of other visitors have nearly disappeared. A nervous laugh croaks out, and I throw a hand behind my neck to brush away the sweat grabbing at my hair.
“Pluto sent us here. We would like a room for the day.”
I place a silver coin on the counter.
The bartender blinks again, only this time her interest flashes between me and Ronan. A small smile pulls at her lips, and she swipes the glass from the counter, pretending to continue cleaning it.
“Just one room?” she asks carefully, her smile patient as she studies the shiny currency.
“Just the one,” I say once again, slightly annoyed she would try to guilt us into spending twice the amount for two rooms when one room will suffice.
Ronan elbows me in the ribs and I wince. When I turn toward him, his eyes are wide, communicating something I don’t fully understand. I don’t want to flaunt my wealth here. That’ll raise suspicions about who I am. I quirk a brow at him and he groans.
The bartender taps her knuckle on the counter, drawing our attention. A rusty key dangles from her finger on a ring made of steel.
“Thank you.” I reach for the key, and its cold, unused edges press into my palm. “Are you Pally?”
The woman laughs heartily once, then lifts the glass again. She glances beyond us to the other customers, who have returned to their immersive conversations.
“No. I’m just finishing up my night watch.
Pally is here…or elsewhere on the day shift.
She doesn’t like the rowdy crowds as much.
But you might see her before you leave. Unless she decides she wants to attend to one of her other locations.
Those tend to get busier anyhow. This close to the Separation, we don’t get many regulars.
” She continues rubbing the glass with the towel, then shelves it next to other glasses of mixed shapes and sizes.
She turns to us and winks. “I’m Fina. Unless you two decide to stay another night, I probably won’t see you again.
Now run along and get some rest.” Her eyes dance.
“Or have some fun. Your room is the last one on the left, down that hall.” She points to a dark corner of the tavern, lit every few feet with rusty sconces.
“Thank you, Fina,” I say. She simply giggles as she waves us away.
I turn and Ronan follows. As we near the morning’s guests, chatter quiets. Large yellow eyes watch me, and sharp claws tap on glasses. Low growls murmur among a group of purple-skinned creatures, their eyes black as night.
“Never seen humans before?” Ronan clicks his tongue. I look over my shoulder and see a shadow pass over his face. His hand lifts to the hilt of his dagger on his hip. “I can give you a close-up look, if you’d like.”
The purple beings lean toward one another, murmuring. The yellow-eyed creatures he speaks to squint at him, then glance at me. Their lips lift to reveal sharp teeth that poke upward, toward their noses.
A chill shakes down my arms.
“Human,” one of them garbles, “you should not be here.”
“We mean no trouble,” Ronan sneers, “but if you growl in our direction one more time, you’ll wish you’d never crossed our paths. In the seven hells.”
The three creatures crowding the table dig their long nails into the wood next to their clean plates. The one Ronan addresses smacks his lips together. “You’re lucky we’re in Pally’s. No other pub would allow a human to?—”
The look Ronan gives the creature could fracture bones. I’m glad I’m not on the receiving end.
When he stops talking, Ronan walks away, leading us into the hallway in silence. He stops in front of a large white door, the number 3 painted eloquently in crimson near the top.
My thoughts churn. Just how many times has Ronan had to deal with difficult creatures? Or maybe he didn’t have to, because my brother’s presence was not one to be bothered with.
Either way, I’m glad I have him at my side.
Once we enter the bedroom and the door closes behind us, he bursts into a chorus of hysterical laughter.
I watch him in horror.
Am I supposed to join in and laugh too? What could possibly be making him so enthusiastic?
The sconces in the room flick on magically, and I realize exactly what Ronan’s uproar is about.
He hugs his stomach for support as the laughs turn into raspy coughs. His hand finds the corner of a pink-stained leather skin ottoman, and he falls into it, then sighs as the laughs slowly fade away.
The room, to put it plainly, is for those who wish to fornicate.
Decorated in pink-dyed furniture and fabrics, the room has been drenched with a sickly sweet perfume that covers every surface, and rouge flower petals are scattered everywhere. On the small two-person bed, the petals converge into the shape of a heart.
Heat flares in my cheeks. Embarrassment. Shock. I’m not sure what else I feel. Any fear from our encounter with the clientele is erased by the implications of this room.
And I’m with my aide, of all people. My aide . At least he finds this ridiculous too.
“I know you meant to keep me at your side in case anything happens, Rami,” Ronan says in a mock-serious tone.
I still hear the edges of a laugh in his voice.
“And to be frank, Xavelor had me do the same thing. But he also usually brought a woman…or several…into the room with him, so there was no room for question—” At my reaction, he grimaces, finally dropping his humor.
“Nymphs are known to talk, is all. I’m sure word is already spreading about two men together at Pally’s.
By nightfall, all of Aldorin will know.”
I bite my teeth together and breathe deeply. “Great.”
“It would be shameful to return the key, but I can go back and order a few drinks and chat with Fina before she leaves for the day. She was bored as the seven hells standing there anyway. My presence should clear up any rumors, okay?”
I begin taking off my boots, then slide my pants down my legs. Ronan settles to watch me, awaiting my response.
“You aren’t tired?” I ask warily.
He shakes his head, stifling a yawn.
I raise a brow at him, and he waves away my concern.
“Fine, go. When you’re finished, keep watch outside.
They shouldn’t know I’m royalty, but it’s clear our humanity is enough of a threat to them.
” Ronan is gone before I can finish. He knows what to do after guarding my brother for so long.
And if his swiftness is any indicator, he doesn’t want to be in this room with me any longer than I do with him.
With a sigh, I remove my tunic, and my longsword clatters to the hard ground. I’m pretty certain I’m asleep before I even hit the bed.
I wake to flower petals plastered to my bare legs, sticking in my hair, and the familiar cringe-inducing sound of Ronan sharpening his knife at the base of the bed.
Shhhhink!
I sit with a start, then I’m instantly forced to remember the pinkness of the room, of its purpose. My body twitches with cold.
“Ah, you’re finally awake,” Ronan says flatly.
I shake off the covers, then slip on my clothes. Ronan stands when I’m done, tucking his dagger into a sheath concealed within his tunic.
“Pluto is already waiting for us outside. Let’s tip the innkeeper and get going, shall we?”
Nodding, I adjust the longsword at my waist and search my satchel for a pastry. It’s crushed and no longer fresh, but when the berry center covers my tongue, I realize how hungry I am. As we make our way down the hall, I eat two more, then take a swig of water from my flask.
The clientele has turned over from the morning. Some lounge comfortably with feet propped on footstools and sip on wooden mugs of a dark liquid that smells like coal and sugar. The scent of the drink floats in the air, mixed with the mouth-watering allure of freshly baked bread.
Though I’m full from the pastries, I can’t help the way saliva pools over my tongue, seduced by the perfect blend of scents flurrying around me as we proceed forward.
A family of three, all colored a dark shade of green, sits around an octagonal table, enjoying their steaming plates of eggs and hollandaise.
Winged creatures—about eight of them, though they move rather quickly so it’s difficult to be sure—buzz around a long table, clinking glasses together and chittering in a language I don’t understand.
In another corner, nymphs cradle the heads of drunken elves in their laps and draw shapes over their cheeks with gentle fingers.
As we move past the groups, they grow noticeably quieter. And one word becomes prominent above the mumbling I couldn’t understand: human . And the sound of it isn’t jovial.
Ronan ushers me past with two hands on my shoulders until we reach the entrance.
As Fina had promised, there’s a new figure looming over the bar, but instead of wiping down dirty glasses, the portly woman hurries between the wall of dishes behind her and an intimidating stone oven. The arched opening flickers, actively baking the deliciousness inside.
“Excuse me, Miss Pally,” I say with a fist over my mouth. I cough into it to catch her attention.
Unfortunately, I do much more than that.