“Come on, just try not to scowl too much. We’re supposed to be blending in, not auditioning for villain roles.”
“Perfect,” I reply, my grin widening. “I hear villains get free drinks.”
“Not if they bury their best friend under the cobblestones,” she retorts.
Together, we step into the buzzing tavern, the noise and light swallowing us whole. The air is thick with the scent of spiced ale, roasted meat, and a faint hint of smoke curling from the hearth. The hum of voices is a lively undercurrent to the fiddle’s cheerful melody, punctuated by bursts of laughter that seem to fill every corner of the room.
Sera inhales deeply, her grin widening as her eyes sweep across the bustling space.
“Finally,” she says, her voice brimming with excitement. “A place with a pulse.”
I pull my hood a little lower as I follow her through the crowd, my steps measured, my head down.
“A little too much pulse,” I mutter under my breath, my voice barely audible over the din.
Sera glances back at me, rolling her eyes. “Oh, come on, Lailah. No one’s paying attention to us. They’re too busy enjoying themselves.”
“That’s exactly what makes it dangerous,” I reply, scanning the room with a wary eye. “Distractions make it easier for things to go wrong.”
Sera exhales sharply through her nose, about to retort, when a sudden chill prickles at the back of my neck. It’s not the cold draft slipping through the gaps in the wooden walls, nor the usual wariness I carry. It’s something else—something unseen.
My breath stills. The feeling is subtle, like the weight of a gaze pressed against my skin, just heavy enough to make me look up. I glance around, my pulse quickening as I hunt for the source. A sea of unfamiliar faces fills the space—laughing, drinking, shouting across tables—some concealed behind masks, others bare and open. Yet none of them are looking at me.
And yet, I feel it. The certainty of being watched.
I turn slowly, searching. The light plays tricks, distorting the edges of figures moving through the tavern. My eyes catch a dark shape in the far recesses of the room, but before I can focus, Sera tugs on my arm, pulling me toward a secluded booth.
“You’re impossible,” she says, dragging me along. “We’re here to blend in, not to brood in a cave. Try to act like you’re capable of fun.”
“I am fun,” I say, sliding into the booth after her, casting a glance once more over my shoulder. Nothing. The sensation lingers, unsettled and stubborn, but I force my focus back to Sera.
She smirks. “You sure don’t look like it.”
“Maybe I prefer my fun to involve fewer witnesses. In case I choose to bury a body, as you so graciously suggested.”
Sera snorts as she leans back in her seat.
“Well, I prefer mine with music, drinks, and handsome strangers. Guess which one of us is going to win tonight?”
“Not the one who’s still talking about blending in,” I reply dryly.
Her grin widens, unbothered.
“Fine. But I’m still ordering whatever smells that good.”
Sera breathes in deeply, moaning with delight at the scent. I glance over, spotting the source—a basket of roasted chestnuts gleaming under the lantern light, their rich, smoky aroma curlingthrough the air. Before I can respond, a tall woman with piercing blue eyes and golden hair approaches our table. Her presence is commanding, and she surveys us with mild curiosity before speaking.
“What can I get for you, ladies?” she asks, her tone steady but friendly.
Sera brightens instantly. “Two ales,” she says without hesitation, glancing up at the barmaid standing before us.
The barmaid glances at me, waiting expectantly before tilting her head. “Anything else, then?”
Sera immediately turns to me, her wide blue eyes filled with exaggerated pleading, lips pressed into a soft pout as if she might simply waste away without another bite of food.
I sigh, rolling my eyes even as a laugh escapes me. “And the roasted chestnuts.”
Before I can say another word, Sera wraps her arms around me in a sudden, tight embrace.
