Tristan’s grin widens, and he seems to not tire carrying me at all. “They’re hardly a common sight, but yes, they do exist. And if you love unicorns, you willlovethe tavern we will be staying at for the night.”
This is absolute insanity, and I can’t wait.
Chapter 10
Nate
Unicorn’s Rest sounds like the name of a tavern straight from a fairytale, not a place called the Nightmare Realm, but I’m not arguing semantics when a unicorn-shaped fountain welcomes me inside with red wine instead of water.
Each window is tall, narrow, and fitted with stained glass so fine it could rival the grandest basilicas. Built of smooth gray stone, the building resembles traditional Victorian churches, and it’s large enough to fit at least a dozen long tables.
Instead of the warm glow of the candles I’d expect in a place like this one, the interior is dominated by the eerie green light of vapor-like flames burning both in massive chandeliers made of animal bone and small torches attached to the walls.
As Tristan leads me inside, along a celestial mosaic embedded into the floor to resemble an elongated carpet, our feet soon move in tune with the lively melody flowing from a fiddle-like instrument played by a young girl standing on a barrel in the corner.
Vines sprouting violet flowers grow out of large pots by some of the walls and climb the stone, adding a bit of warmth to a space that instead of echoing with Gregorian chants smells of stew, bread, and beer. I cross my fingers for something vegan, or at least plant-based, but my hopes shrink when I note a disconcerting amount of skull and bones—both animal and… human—partially obscured by the thick leaves.
This place is every goth’s dream, but I’ve never been much into the morbid side of things.
I yelp when a short yet very slender woman steps in front of me in a dress featuring numerous bat-shaped cutouts and a neckline that’s close to revealing both her nipples. I swear I can see the edge of one already.
“Welcome to Unicorn’s Rest, Ser Human, Ser Nightcloak,” she says cheerfully. “What do you require?”
Only now it really sinks in that she’s an elf. They all are. From the musician to the crowd playing dice and the man mumbling something as he scrubs the floor, they all have pointy ears, bright eyes, and most are on the slender side. High cheekbones also seem to be a common trait, and not one person has a beard. I’m so overwhelmed by my surroundings I’m struggling to take it all in, but Tristan is taking care of me like he promised.
“We will dine, we will merry, and we’d like your finest room as well.” Tristan flashes her a bright smile.
It’s not lost on me that a lot of faces are turning our way, curiosity painted all over them. Are people like me that rare in these parts?
I pinch myself, because of course they are. But the fact is that elves don’t seem so physically different from the average person where I’m from.
Unless what I’m seeing here isnota representative sample of the Nightmare Realm’s population. Every single person within sight could be a model. Are they better looking, becausethey’re elves, or because they’re rich? The clothes most of those gathered here wear are variations of thick velvet and intricate lace, with a bit of tailored leather thrown in for good measure. All in dark colors with some jewel tones and sparkling adornments, which seem made to underline just how well-off they are. I’m starting to feel painfully underdressed in my puffer jacket and hiking boots. There’s no doubt that this is an expensive tavern, not some shoddy place where you have to watch your purse.
Just as that thought passes through my head, I spot a man with lips that seem to stretch a bit too far across his cheeks. But the hands on him?
Definitely those of a professional hand model.
Am I spiraling?
“Very well, now define finest room, ser,” the girl says, showing Tristan her empty palm in a gesture that’s apparently universal across all the realms.
“One with its own bath tub.” Tristan puts a jangling pouch in her hand, leaving me to wonder how much he’s spending here.Howrich is he? He’s a prince, and while I knew that, it’s only now dawning on me that he probably doesn’thaveto work. I’ve been so wrapped up in how stunning he looks, how funny he is, or how sweet his compliments are, that I didn’t think much about his other assets.
As the girl chats to him about any other amenities we might need, my eyes drift to the large skull mounted above a stone bar decorated with sparkling crystals. At first glance, it appears to have once belonged to a horse, but my chest fills with heat when I take note of the massive horn growing out of its forehead.
A unicorn. Was it… hunted down? I have so many questions.
“I will go arrange everything. Are you comfortable staying on your own? You’re free to order any drink.” Tristan strokes my arm and gives me a quick kiss. It confirms that he’s not ashamedof being seen with me, a human of the male variety and someone else’s ‘promised’--
“Should you be kissing me in public?” I whisper in panic. It’s not like we’re in a frat house and able to say what happens in the human realm, stays in the human realm. There could be repercussions for our… dalliance.
Tristan shrugs. “News doesn’t travel that fast. And if questioned, we’ll just deny it.”
“That simple?”
“That simple,” he says with a grin and gives me another peck on the lips.
I feel a bit silly when I smile at him like a love-struck teen. “Don’t be long.”
