If the hidden marks on Horace’s body were any indication, the Guard didn’t wait to ask questions before doling out punishment.
“How can I help you?” the bartender asked, his voice tense, eyebrows drawn together.
“Oh, why the long face?” one of the guards jeered, planting his hands on the top of the wooden bar. The patrons nearest himleaned away, their discomfort evident even from my seat all the way across the tavern. “My boys and I are just here for a night out.”
“Welcome to the Drakin’s Lair. It’s an honor to serve members of His Majesty’s Guard,” the bartender bit out. I winced at the hint of derision in his tone. With men like this, it was best to hold your breath and lie low. To not draw attention to yourself. That was how you inevitably ended up in a back alley with your face plastered to a brick wall.
“You hear that, Kipper?” The guard turned to the man on his left. “Anhonor. Is this how you treat those with honor here in the south sector?” He flourished a hand toward the silent bar, the looks of wariness and repulsion staring back at him.
“I would say not, Pax.”
Their dramatic exchange set me on edge. My eyes flitted briefly to Lark and Horace, who attempted to drink their ale casually, keeping their heads facing away from the front.
“Although, wouldn’t have expected much more from the filth down here,” the one called Kipper added with a smirk. “Bunch of province scum.”
A man sitting at a table near them gripped the side of his chair, a movement I wouldn’t have noticed if it weren’t for my sharpened Shifter senses. The guards honed in on it instantly. Rissa’s quick inhale next to me showed she saw it, too.
“You got a problem with that?” Pax said to the man, tilting his neck. The other three slowly drifted to the table.
The man shook his head. All eyes were on the scene, no longer pretending to keep to themselves.
“He asked you a question,” a third guard said with a sneer, kicking the back of the man’s chair. The action had my legs clenching as I fought the urge to stand. Rissa put a hand on my back, subtly shaking her head.
“No,sir,” the man said through gritted teeth.
Pax hummed and nodded at the guards to back off, then roved his gaze over the rest of the tavern. People lowered their eyes totheir drinks or plates of food. It felt as if the entire building held its collective breath, pressure mounting so quickly I could feel it strain against my skin.
“What are you all looking at?” he barked. “I got something on my face, Kipper?” He turned to his friend, who snickered. Pax continued roaming the tables, taking in the rotted wooden ceiling and the flies buzzing around rusted sconces. Some conversations began to pick up again as people tried to put the guards out of mind, but the voices were stilted. Forced.
Finally, Pax, Kipper, and the two nameless guards made their way back to the bar. “Four of your finest ales,” Pax said to the bartender, who nodded and busied himself with their tankards.
A bit of tension released, and chatter grew again. I turned my head to hear the guards better, seeing my sister brush hair behind her ear to do the same. Leaving now would only make them suspicious, so all we could do was wait it out.
“Say, barkeep, where are you from, anyway?” Kipper asked.
“Here,” he replied briskly.
The fourth guard snorted. “Quite an establishment you have. Been in your family long?”
The bartender slammed four glasses in front of them. “I was born here in the capital, if that’s what you’re getting at.Sir,” he added, the word practically a hiss.
Pax raised his hands in mock defense. “Hey now, we’re just making conversation. You’ve got nothing to hide, do you, friend?”
“Of course not.”
“Good, good,” Pax said, stroking his dark beard. “Wouldn’t want that, would we?”
Kipper flicked a silver coin onto the bar and grabbed his tankard. When he took a sip, he grimaced. “Tastes like piss.”
“What did you expect down here?” the third guard said with a chuckle that made my teeth grind. “Provincers who don’t have enough magic or coin to wipe their?—”
“I think you should leave.” A chair scraped against wood as theman from before stood, his chest puffed out in false bravado as he faced the four guards.
I closed my eyes and stifled a groan.
Pax’s face broke into a wolfish grin. “Boys, what do we have here?” He strolled to the man, crossing his arms over his muscular chest. “Someone with a pair of balls on them?”
“We’re just trying to enjoy our evening,” the man said, his confidence slipping by the second. “Y-you’re making everyone uncomfortable.”
