(*Bonus Scene*)
(*Possible Scene for Book 2?*)
"Classy," Ingrid snarked as she and Edge walked into the pub.
In one booth, a crew of pirates swayed off-rhythm, singing sea shanties with their glasses raised. A mercenary with a jagged scar up his neck scowled as the two made their way across the room.
"Oh, my apologies, Your Majesty," Edge said with a tone. "I didn't know if you wanted dinner at the palace gazebo or the king's yacht, so I picked the next best place."
Ingrid laughed loudly, drawing attention from the patrons around them. Edge pulled a seat out for her at the bar. He sat down next to her just as the bartender came around the island.
"Let me guess," the bartender said, "Wine and rum, large glass to share?"
"I'll take an ale, actually." Ingrid rested her chin on her hand and winked at the bartender. A smile pulled at his mouth and he busied himself with cleaning a clean beer stein.
"I'll do a bottle of mead," Edge put in.
"Yeah, yeah, I'll get to it," the bartender said irritably. "Open tab?"
Edge shrugged. "Sure."
While they waited for their drinks, Ingrid tapped her foot on the stool and Edge traced his fingernail over a carving on the countertop. A minstrel band started up on a short stage by the window.
A shine caught Edge's eye and he noticed a knife under Ingrid's sleeve. Even though she had changed from her dark assassin clothes into a casual dress, Ingrid still carried a weapon on her. How many she had on her person, he could only guess. She almost never had her guard down.
"So-" He cleared his throat- "You never answered my question."
Ingrid glanced at him with a raised eyebrow. "About what?"
"I asked how you got into the 'assassin thing'."
"And I told you it's none of your concern." She crossed her arms. Edge exhaled slowly and shifted his eyes around the room.
"But I mean, if there was anything that I should know," Edge started, "You would tell me, right?"
Ingrid turned with a scowl and was about to snap something, but the bartender returned with their drinks. Ingrid downed her ale in one go and moved to a table on the opposite end of the pub. Edge sipped his drink in silence.
In the background commotion, two musicians of the minstrel band were having a heated argument over who would sing the next ballad. One hit the other over the head with a lute, who punched them in the nose. The band was then asked to leave.
"Could I get another ale?" Edge asked the bartender. Without missing a beat, the bartender promptly slid the glass down to him, foam spilling down the sides.
"Don't mess this up," the bartender said with a serious look.
Edge walked over to Ingrid's lonely table and sat down across from her. "I didn't mean to pry, I was just curious," he apologized. He pushed the glass across to her.
She stared at it, then up at him, then back at the glass. A smile broke and she accepted the peace offering.
"Thanks, but-" Ingrid took a sip off the top of the foam. "I'll tell you eventually. I'm just trying to find the right time."
"Of course," said Edge. "But if I can't ask that question, can I try another one?"
Ingrid shrugged. "I guess so."
"How did you down your drink so fast?"
Ingrid chuckled. "That one I can answer." She held her glass up and tapped it on the edge of the table. "You gotta get it flat first. Then you just-"
She took a deep breath and knocked back the entire glass. The ale was gone within seconds. Ingrid brought the cup down hard and shook the table. "There!"
Edge mimicked her, tapping her glass on the table and knocking his mead back. About halfway through, he ran out of air and started choking. Edge sputtered, spitting the drink all over the table. Ingrid clapped her hands together and cackled.
"That was not what I meant to do," Edge coughed, pounding his chest to get the rest of it out of his lungs. Ingrid was red in the face and slumped over from laughter. The bartender cleaned up the spill and nodded approvingly at Edge.
"Excuse moi, lady." A gangly pirate walked up to their table. He wore only an old green bandana and patched-up pants, but his gold earrings and jeweled bracelets told a different story.
He hiccupped and steadied himself with a chair. "But I ain't ever seen a petite femin-nine specimen like yourself drain a beer like that."
Ingrid raised an eyebrow. "Petite?"
"I gave you a compliment, sweetheart. Smile a little." The pirate took a swig from his bottle of rum.
Ingrid narrowed her eyes and scowled. "Well, how fast can you knock one back?"
The pirate licked his chapped lips and stared at her drunkenly. "Is that a challenge?"
Ingrid smirked. "If you want it to be."
The pirate chuckled, "I like you." He strode away toward his crew with Ingrid in tow.
Edge caught her by the arm. "This is a bad idea, Ingrid. They're pirates, for Pete's sake."
Ingrid shrugged him off. "And I'm an assassin."
~ ~ ~
Madame Montréal, the captain of the pirate crew, hushed the rowdy crowd. "Shut up, you lot!" She stood at the head of the long table between Ingrid and her opponent, Rischer. "Alright then, round three! Winner takes all!"
Edge stood next to Ingrid, warily watching her get progressively tipsier. She had won the first round, but then Rischer- the pirate who'd challenged her- won the second. Rischer had one eye lazily drifting close, but still had a hand on an empty stein.
"Ingrid-" Edge shook her shoulder- "You should stop while you still can."
"But I haven't won yet," Ingrid slurred. She pointed a finger at the wall but meant to point at Rischer. "He needs to lose so I can win." The pirate made a rude gesture toward her and Ingrid sent it back with both hands.
The bartender brought two metal beer steins to the table and set them in front of the competitors. Ingrid missed the handle the first time she reached but eventually got hold of it.
"Final round!" announced Madame Montréal, "Only one victor's allowed, so place your bets!" Pirates and pub patrons alike exchanged coins around the circle.
Madame Montréal raised a handkerchief and silence fell over the pub. Ingrid and Rischer stared at each other in a deadlock. Edge shook his head; he knew this was going to end badly either way.
The moment the handkerchief dropped, Ingrid and Rischer's steins flew up. The pirates whooped and pounded the table like a madhouse. The crowd cheered them on as they drained the tankers.
Rischer's stein came down at the same time as Ingrid's and the crowd exploded.
"I finished first!" Rischer shouted, punching a fist into the table.
"Like hell you did!" snapped Ingrid.
Rischer took a swing at her, but Ingrid blocked with her forearm. She grabbed his head and slammed it down onto the table. Rischer howled in pain as his forehead bruised.
Someone made a grab for the betting pile and the entirety of the pub went into chaos.
Somehow, Edge got pushed out of the fight and ended up on the floor. Ingrid was still in the center of the mob fighting it out with two pirates on top of the table. She had stolen a sword and was easily beating the two of them.
Edge pushed through, dodging drunken swings and tumbling bodies. He hid under the table where the pirates were. Boots and bare feet stomped above his head, raining dust and grime down on his hair.
"Get some!" Ingrid taunted above, "I'll slit your throats and feed your balls to the dogs!"
Edge ducked out from under the table and grabbed Ingrid by the waist. She flailed, kicking and cursing, as he carried her out of the pub. On the way out, Edge thought he saw the bartender loading a pistol behind the counter.
Edge finally let Ingrid go when they were outside. She shambled unsteadily until she caught hold of a wall. Her eyes glazed over his general direction.
Ingrid jabbed the stolen sword at him. "Don'- you ever- don't grab ma'like that, m'kay?"
Edge crossed his arms. "Ingrid, you're drunk."
Ingrid stared at the ground and giggled. "Nnn-no. You're drunk, sweetheart."
Edge tried to take the sword from her, but she hid it childishly behind her back.
"Nice try, but this one's my sword."
Ingrid walked stumlbed down the road waving her new favorite weapon. Edge followed her, but kept far enough away that she wouldn't be able to take a slash at him if she wanted. He'd seen his friends from his logging company impaired before, so he knew how to deal with their crassness.
Ingrid was only able to make it a few paces before she collapsed against a barrel. The sword fell from her hand as she retched up four pints of alcohol. Edge hurried over, but he had no idea how to help.
After a few minutes of dry heaving, Ingrid leaned against the wall with tears spilling down her face. A strand of her hair stuck to the corner of her mouth.
She dug the heels of her palms into her eyes. "I can't do this- I just can't-" she whispered to herself. She shrunk until she sat on the ground and rested her head on her knees. Glossy black feathers sprouted from her forearm.
Edge sat down next to her against the wall, putting the sword on his other side. He listened to her muffled sniffling in silence.
"If you need to say something, you can always talk to me." Edge told her. Ingrid didn't respond.
"It's been a year, you can trust me. You're not the most open person, but that doesn't mean- If you want, I-" Ingrid tipped and slumped against Edge's arm, softly snoring.
"Of course," he muttered. She was as drunk as Bacchus and couldn't say her own name if she wanted to, and yet he loved her. He loved her like fire loves a hearth.
"There they are!" a voice shouted from down the road. Madame Montréal's unruly crew came around the corner with chair-leg clubs and broken bottles. "Get 'em!"
Edge jumped up with the sword in his hand. He didn't realize his face had turned metallic from his own mild drunkenness.
"Get. The hell. Away from her," he growled.
The pirates hesitated for a split second. Edge took that moment to charge at them, yelling and waving the sword wildly in the air. They scrambled away tripping over one another to get away from the maniac Morpheos.
Edge picked Ingrid up and carried her down the street as twilight descended on the city.