The Dark Enchantress

Chapter 8 - The Stranger

The tavern was busy, filled with voices of different volumes. The bearded man behind the bar seemed to only stay in one place for a short time, pacing back and forth along the length of the wooden bar he tended to. Most of the time, he had held carved pint tankards, and a smile often graced his lips as he spoke with those sitting at the bar. The waitresses delivered food and some drinks to the patrons at the tables. Each seemed so graceful; some talked with regulars while others did their best to avoid tripping over something in the crowded space.

Jessica and Alan sat at a small table in the corner of the large space. Alan observed the people, how open and relaxed they seemed around each other, a far cry from how they had acted toward him since he'd arrived. Laughter rang out among the blended voices of different volumes and pitches. It was as if the entire town were one happy family that didn't seem welcoming to outsiders. Every now and again, Adam would glance between the two entrances to the tavern. The creaky, thick door that led to the outside and the door that led to the inn next to the bar; the copper-haired knight expected to see Aemond glide through one, returning from his walk through the mountain passes.

The brunette princess, on the other hand, looked around the establishment with disgust written across her features. She always complained about the family weekly dinners her father insisted on doing, but she'd take going to one of those boring events rather than being at the run-down tavern now. The longer she stayed in the Storm Lands, the more the Princess of Ronan found disappointment. Her naive imagination had conjured up extravagance, beauty, and luxury, nothing like she was experiencing now. The little tavern seemed to be the place to be, even in its poor state.

The more Jessica looked around, the more she wished to leave. The tables were all full, as was the bar, and all the voices blended together; those smoking didn't seem to care for those around them nor to move outside or near a window. The boards of the floor creaked, the windows so dusty it was near impossible to see through them, the curtains framing those dusty windows old and moth-eaten, some had so many holes in them, they resembled net curtains. The candle holders were last cleared or replaced some time ago, and there was a build-up of candle wax, dust, and cobwebs. The furniture wasn't much better; seat cushions gave a puff of thick dust when touched, and each one had its own unique patchwork design from being repaired so much; some even had burn marks. Floors and tables were sticky; some tables chipped in places, and chairs creaked and groaned as if protesting about being used. Plates used to serve food had long since become discolored; some had faded patterns on them, reminders of their past glory. The only thing that seemed new was the tankards and the barrels of ale and beer served to the many patrons flooding the small establishment.

Just as Jessica was about to continue her never-ending whining, the thick, creaky door to the far side of the room groaned as it was roughly pushed open. A muscular man with dark braided hair and beard walked through, holding it open for several following also to enter, one of which was the Daroian Prince. He seemed tired and shivered slightly, wet from the latest downpour. Despite that, he seemed happy to engage in conversation with the brute of a man whom he'd followed. Jessica watched the prince as he walked over to the bar, greeting the man behind it as if they were old friends. The bartender didn't seem to ask Aemond what he wanted, just placing a tankard in front of him before gesturing something and walking off with a small wave.

"Wait until it quiets down," mumbled Jessica, not wanting her words to be heard by anyone except her copper-haired companion. Alan merely nodded as if to confirm he'd heard her scrambled words, at least before his attention returned to the Daroian prince, who had taken up residency in a small booth not too far from the pair. His pale eyes seemed to glimmer in the dim candlelight, just as a pleasant grin appeared on his lips. The prince seemed relaxed despite being in such a ghastly place.