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The bartender regarded us from across the divide with something bordering on contempt. She was a portly woman who would’ve looked normal if not for the ox horns protruding from her plaited hair.
I flashed her a winning smile. Fuck being scared or snubbed.
“Wha’dya want?” the barkeep said, walking over with loud steps against the wood floor.
“Two beers.” I suspected they didn’t have the fruity cocktails Daphne and I had previously dabbled in.
Daphne slid a couple of coins across the countertop.
The bartender looked at them with open distaste.
“Is there a problem?” Daphne asked.
“No problem,” the barkeep spat before swiping the coins off the counter. “Always happy to serve the whims of the crown. When you’re here, why not get drunk?”
I refused to flinch at the acidity in her tone. Who had pissed in her cereal?
She turned away. Daphne and I exchanged another look.What is her problem?she mouthed.
I shrugged.
Our drinks were planted in front of us with a slam a moment later.
I sniffed mine. It was probably fine, but I wouldn’t put it past the woman to have spit in it.
Or worse.
“What, too good to drink my ale?” the barkeep snapped.
“Too good to even show up the past century,” a customer growled.
“Look at them, acting like they can walk wherever they please,” another slurred.
“Stupid to wander in here. King doesn’t know everything that goes on.” A third voice.
Chairs moved. The tension shifted, growing into a solid weight.
Daphne twisted around to cover my back while I refused to take my eyes off the bartender.
“Friendly place you got here.”
“Not for you,” she huffed.
Then she walked away. For the briefest second, I thought it might be to defuse the tension.
But once she disappeared behind a curtain, that just signaled to everyone else that it was open season on us. More patrons stood. Not everyone, but enough to form a small crowd around us. The leers turned to steps.
“Gonna teach them a lesson,” the original voice hissed.
I stood. Daphne did the same, pressing her back to me.
Then, someone made a move. It was a tall, brutish-looking male with at least two feet on me and a hundred pounds of muscle. He started toward me, a glass lifted in his hand either as a haphazard weapon or simply because he was too focused to put it down. He lurched forward. I braced, ready to defend myself.
But he never reached me. Instead, one second he was moving for me. The next, his body split in two, falling to the ground while blood splattered everywhere.
“Come now, gentlemen. Is that any way to treat your future queen?”
The voice was familiar. I stared at the creature that stood behind the would-be attacker. A black-skinned male with constellations etched on his skin stood, wiping the blood off his blade with the shirt of the recently slain body.
