The tavern was called The Ruby Dagger and it did not inspire confidence. Located on the main roadside, it attracted a diverse, often shady clientele. The lower part of the building was intended to accommodate as many hungry and thirsty guests as possible—with an emphasis on the thirsty. The staff seemed oblivious to the loud quarrels and petty fights. One could surely say they were pretty used to it.
The entrance door was not inviting. Not only did the area around them smell of piss, but the remnants of the night's rioters were strenuously barricading the passage. The men sitting on the hard-packed ground showed no embarrassment, brazenly observing every passer-by, including Freya and her company.
In the end, they managed to get through this daunting anti-advertisement, although Freya had to fight her reflexes along the way. One man, obviously tempted by her curves visible by her rather tight clothing, grabbed her ankle—fortunately being protected by her leather boots. It did not end well for him, because Freya had been already on high alert and the confrontation ended with a sad souvenir for this drunkard. Leander witnessed this event and his posture showed that he wanted to rush to Freya's aid, but the woman turned out to be quick enough. The vampire just smirked, but didn't comment.
Being inside already, Qadir nodded toward the Prince, who seemed to understand him without words, and guided Freya to the furthest empty table, while their companion was talking to one woman at the bar. The table of the Prince's choice was in the corner, partially hidden by the high screens. On the counter stood a rusty candlestick with half-burned candles, which was the only source of light in that corner.
"I apologize for the conditions, but given our travel schedule, we'll have to make do with what comes along the way," the Prince's voice snapped her out of her thoughts. It was only then that Freya noticed they were standing so close to each other. The Prince didn't have to strain too hard for her to hear him over the ruckus. His voice was almost a whisper she seemed to feel like a warm breeze against her neck.
"You don't need to worry about that. I spent more than one night with half of the woods digging into my body. I think the messy tavern is way above the comfort level anyway," Freya replied, taking a seat on the slightly creaking wooden bench.
"And why was that?" He asked, taking a seat right across from her, seeming curious.
"I hunt a lot," she explained with a shrug.
He chuckled, raising an eyebrow, "You hunt?".
The woman huffed, "And why is that so surprising to you?"
"I've never met a human princess who would willingly go for a walk into the woods, let alone hunt and sleep in the open." The vampire looked baffled, but for some reason he looked also like this knowledge was an entertaining turn-up for the book.
"How would you explain the bow I carry then? Certainly, I wouldn't have taken it if it wasn't for me to use," she sneered.
"Oh, I don't know... Out of sentiment perhaps?" He grinned.
That made her laugh. "Out of sentiment, my ass... Although, I have to admit that this bow is a piece of fine craftsmanship. Wouldn't hurt to carry it out of sentiment. Although, I'm a more practical kind of person."
The Prince smiled softly, focusing on his hands lying on the table. "I'd like to see you use it then." His head raised, changing his focus from his hands to her face.
There was something unusual about his eyes. Beyond the gloom, Freya seemed to see something deep within them, calling to her. She couldn't quite explain where the feeling was coming from. So far, no boy, let alone a grown man, has aroused such curiosity in her. She wanted to know it all. His thoughts, his past, his innermost desires.
Just as the concept gathered in her mind, she remembered their previous exchange and scolded herself for getting into these feelings. Was he doing it again? Did he make her feel this way? Or maybe... Fuck, no. That wasn't even an option. But what if... What if all these feelings were hers only, and all this time she was blaming him when in truth it was her being at fault?
Stupid girl, she called herself in her mind. Once again, she caught herself in thoughts that would lead her nowhere. However, just as she was about to move on to start a conversation that might have given her a smattering of useful information for a change, Qadir appeared at their side, grim as usual, as if this trip was one of his life's greatest adversities. Well, maybe it was.
"Something tells me you're not bringing any good news." The Prince didn't show any surprise at the attitude of their gloomy companion. On the contrary, he looked quite indifferent.
"One room, one bed, that's all they have," he almost spat. "They even run out of beer, for fuck's sake. Something about the new batch hasn't yet been delivered this early."
Well, that wasn't good, although for Freya, the more interesting fact was why lack of beer was so crucial for goddamned vampires. Shouldn't they focus on blood, perhaps?
Prince Leander moved on the bench to make room for the pissed-off, beer-craving vampire. Qadir sat down with a loud crack, sending a deathful glare toward the woman.
"I guess you need to lower your accommodation standards even more by resting with us in the same room," he said cynically, probably hoping for Freya's misery. His desire to make her unhappy every occasion he got became perfectly apparent at this point. She didn't care though. Yes, that wasn't a perfect scenario, but she wasn't picky, especially not while traveling. She was a royal, but that didn't give her the right to throw a fit whenever opportunities were against the grain.
She snorted, "If you're hoping for any salty feelings from me, I have to disappoint you. If it's up to me, you can take the bed, I don't care."
Freya glimpsed a quick smile just at the corner of the Prince's lips. That made her oddly satisfied. However, she did not receive an answer from the second vampire. She had to be content with Qadir's grimace only.
Soon after, a hearty meal appeared on their table. There may not have been beer and free rooms, but at least there seemed to be plenty of food, judging by the type and size of the portion. Freya began to salivate at the sight. She hadn't realized how hungry she was until now. She shouldn't be surprised though, she only managed to eat an apple during their all-night ride. The woman could blame it all on her stomach, which decided that the pain of separation from her family was reason enough not to feel hungry, and it probably had a point. Albeit, at that moment while seeing everything on the table, any thoughts other than hunger seemed to flee to the darkest recesses of her consciousness.
First, she tackled the venison. She didn't have to ask—she recognized the tender meat of a young roe deer at once. Prepared perfectly to the point, with the addition of butter, various herbs, onions, and garlic, it almost melted in the mouth. The bread she was biting into seemed freshly baked. This was one of the few advantages of taking a break at dawn—you could count on a fresh supply of baker's goods, ready to serve a hungry clientele for the day. When she finished with the venison, she set about eating a batch of grilled vegetables. Red peppers, squashes, mushrooms and beetroot perfectly complemented the meal.
Only then, fully fed, did she look at her companions, realizing that until now her every move had been scrupulously watched. The Prince was looking at her with mild interest, whereas Qadir's gaze made her uneasy. He watched her every little move with the look of an animal waiting for its prey. She knew that look very well, the years of hunting had not escaped her. Until a few days ago, she herself holding the bow tight, was waiting for the perfect moment to shoot. She then realized the gravity of the situation, having not been able to understand it until that very moment—that it was she, who was going to be a perfect prey in the world she was heading to. Maybe she didn't grasp many facts about the place where she was supposed to live from now on, but one thing was sure and that was the constant danger the young woman was going to be in. That thought made her freeze.
"You had enough?" The Prince asked carefully as if sensing her uneasiness.
"What about you two?" She asked him instead. She noticed they hadn't eaten anything. The reason was simple, but it didn't change the fact that they supposedly had to drink something... Or someone for that matter.
"You don't need to worry about us." The sudden realization was vivid in his eyes. He knew her fear. He knew she was asking out of pure concern for her well-being, and apparently, he wanted to ease her anxiety just a little. That's what he sounded like anyway.
"I perfectly understand that you aren't going to find your meal interests in the menu. I am asking how you are going to feed during this journey." Her voice was as quiet as possible but firm as a rock.
"We're going to hunt for animal's blood. That should sustain us for the time being."
"Unless you're volunteering," Qadir added with a revolting expression.
The Prince's reply was as fast as a thunder. "Shut your bloody mouth, Qadir. Not time, not place, and definitely not the right person to talk to like that," he spat.
"Try anything and the next thing you see will be your severed balls," Freya retorted, slightly doubting it'd be easy to implement, but she was ready to try if necessary.
Qadir stood up leaning toward her. "Don't be so sure of yourself, little thing." He then looked at the man sitting next to him. "Take her to the room. I'll join you soon."
And with that, he was gone. The Prince's gaze fell on Freya. He stood up slowly and offered his hand to help her leave the table. "Shall we?"
Freya shrugged indifferently, took his hand, and said, "Weshall."