It was exactly how Ellen had imagined it; the large rickety tavern sitting on a busy corner in the middle of town, positively reeking of excitement. And nefariousness.

The Silver Spoon was just like the taverns from her childhood stories. Its wooden walls held all manner of incredible tales from across the country. A warm glow leaked out through the windows as the sun dipped below the horizon many thousand of kilometres away.

Ellen could hear the music inside call to her as she followed Viera to cross the street. Booths hugged the outside wall of the tavern, filled to the brim with patrons as they carried on with raucous chatter.

“The Silver Spoon,” Ellen’s father stated disapprovingly. “Is this where we are going to be having dinner, then?”

“Inside. I even have a special room booked out for us.” Viera replied pleasantly.

With a tug on his sleeve, Ellen wanted to remind her father that he’d promised to be nice but the words sat like a lump in her throat.

Giving very little reaction, Ellen’s father didn’t look at her but did give an uncharacteristically restrained reply, “That sounds lovely, Viera.”

Viera inclined her head as she took the lead, closing in on the front entrance with a slight swagger.

A large oaken set of double doors welcomed them to the famous tavern, both doors open with two burly looking men standing in front. The men had a small line up for folks waiting for them to the side and a slow stream of folks coming back out, with food and ale in hand.

As Ellen drew closer, the smell of the food made Ellen’s stomach grumble noisily. Most of the passer-bys were holding large bowls of a hearty looking stew. With pieces of meat and vegetables piled high up over the bowl’s rim, the stew spoke well for their upcoming dinner, Ellen suspected.

As Viera stepped up to the door, one of the rugged men put out his hand to block her and sized her up. With a long beard that covered his torso all the way down to his sizable belly, he wasn’t fit but he looked undeniably brawny. On his belt were two particularly solid looking clubs and a set of silver ornate keys jingling on his right side.

“Good afternoon, folks. Have you been to the Silver Spoon before?” He welcomed them, his voice gravely and deep.

“I have, yes. I am Viera Courfelt.” Viera stepped up to stand before him.

“Good afternoon, Viera. Do you know the rules of entry then?”

Viera paused for a moment and tilted her head in thought.

With a deep breath, the man began a spiel that he seemed to find particularly tiresome, “Welcome to the Silver Spoon Tavern, Famous Home of the Hiford Contract Boards. In this tavern, violence and gambling are forbidden and will be dealt with harshly. Weapons are not permitted on premises and will need to be relinquished to the guards at the door, who today are Joun and Harold. Now, Viera, do you intend on committing any violent acts in the Silver Spoon today?”

“Well, no. But I hadn’t even considered it until just now,” Viera laughed lightly.

He stared blankly at her in response.

“No, Joun.” she clarified.

“Good. Please place your weapons on the table to my left and please remember to give me both your visible and concealed weapons.”

Viera took off her belt and placed it on the table next to her and Joun gave her a token before turning his gaze on Ellen.

She fidgeted uncomfortably and tried to meet his eyes evenly.

“You with her, kid?”

Ellen nodded and cleared her throat, “Yes.”

“And the rest of you?” He asked and waited for a second, “Ok, same for all of you. If you agree, take your weapons out and place them on the table.”

“Absolutely not.” Ellen’s father spoke up behind Ellen, not trying in the slightest to hide his outrage, “We are a family of the High House Thenfeld and we are permitted to retain our swords in any business, residence, and location that we so choose under the rightful rule of Queen Jarina.”

“And your verification?” Joun sighed and responded.

Ellen’s father pushed past Ellen roughly and shoved his House ring in the Joun’s face, “I am the Family Head of the Lightbrist Family of the House Thenfeld, third in line for the Househead.”

Joun looked him up and down, leant backwards to grab his drink.

“Right, keep your sword then, Sir. And welcome to the Silver Spoon.” Joun stood aside and her father pushed past him. Ellen moved to follow him but found the man watching her as she passed.

“If you don’t want to have someone nick it, don’t take it out, alright?” Joun warned her as he took a sip.

Ellen thanked him quietly and moved inside. The interior of the Silver Spoon was nothing particularly special compared to what she’d seen before. The dining room was a mass of tightly packed tables with several servers busily navigating their way between the groups of patrons sitting around the room.

Most in the room looked like everyday folk, much to Ellen’s surprise. Only six of the larger tables were taken up with groups of people and only a few of them looked like the grizzled adventurers that were described to frequent Board taverns.

Closer to the front of the tavern were two women who could have been adventurers as well. Huddled close on a table, they quietly talked between several empty glasses with a serious look about them. Their clothes were travelling outfits, large packs, and large hiking boots; perfectly matching the image Ellen had in her mind. One with short cropped hair in an interesting style that she liked and the other with long, sleek hair just like Teon. They looked amazing.

Ellen looked back to find Wosche talking excitedly with his mother.

“Is it what you imagined, Ellen?” Alexia asked brightly as she noticed her.

“It is quieter than I imagined.”

“More decrepit than I was hoping.” her father muttered angrily.

Ellen bit her tongue and hid her frustration as best she could as she turned back to look out into the tavern. Waiting at the bar, Viera propped her elbows onto the bench and looked over to try and get the barkeep’s attention.

The barkeep was a grizzled looking man, cleaning a glass as he talked with one of the other customers until he noticed Viera. Peeling off quickly, he sidled over with a levelled greeting but much of what they said was lost between the music playing at the back of the dining room and the general hubbub of folk gathering.

Desperate to not look over at her father, Ellen’s gaze landed on the barkeep. A severe looking man well above six feet in height, he dwarfed Viera as they talked. His long black hair was tied back into a bun and he wore a dirty apron over a boring brown tunic. Beneath the tunic’s sleeves hid large, bulging biceps that also spoke to the quiet power he exuded from the bar.

Ellen dry swallowed as she made sure she didn’t look too long. Behind him were several sturdy shelves of liquor with an extensive display of mounted heads above them. Of the nine heads, Ellen could name three of them: A cockatrice, bear, and she was pretty sure an axebeak far down the way. The other six were far more impressive given the fact that she had no idea what many of them were.

All of them were incredible, with the theme that connected them all being how terrifying they looked. Each of their faces were contorted into snarls or roars that spoke to their ferocity. Under each of them were small plaques just too far away to be read. Tempted, Ellen went to get closer to the bar but was met by Viera as she turned around to join them again.

Gesturing to a door down the opposite end of the tavern, Viera hurried them along, “Very good, they have the room organised for us and our meals are being made as we speak. It will just be us today, sadly, but you’ll meet my associate another day soon, I am sure.”

Ellen eagerly took the lead, striding along the bar but giving the mounted heads only a cursory look. Later, she could come back for a better look.

Or she could ask her father to see if he knew anything about them after the meeting if everything went particularly well. Asking him could even put him in a good mood if he was put in a bad mood by Viera. He loved to talk about the monsters of the Dark Forest and she could stay in the Tavern a little longer if she asked him to talk about each of them.

Making her way quickly through the dining room, she’d almost reached the door before realising that the others had barely moved from the entrance. While Viera and her father had stayed by the bar, Wosche had convinced his mother to check out the billiard room that was right next to the entrance to the tavern.

Ellen went to the door Viera had pointed to. The others wouldn’t be far behind and, with all the food around her, she was starting to get hungry.

The door was unlocked when she tried the handle. Beyond the door was a sizable backroom, with two large tables placed in the middle. A selection of meats, bread, olives, and other small foods were set out for them to graze on along with two bottles of wine and a large jug of water.

Ellen chose to walk past the table rather than sit down. All around the room were curios that called to her. A large bay window offered a beautiful view over the rooftops and all the way to the jungle and mountains in the far distance. Ellen enjoyed what she could see of the vista but worked her way around the table to a row of glass cabinets that sat against the far wall.

Giving the door a furtive look back, the cabinets were worth a quick investigation even if it was going to be a roll of the dice. The closest cabinet to her had a small dagger set on a large wooden pedestal. Attached to the side of the pedestal was a small bronze label: The SixtyGutter. The dagger’s blade curved backwards all the way from the top down to the base of the hilt. With a jagged edge running all the way from the razor sharp tip at the top to another razor-sharp tip at the bottom, the dagger was a sinister-looking weapon.

The next cabinet had a pedestal as well, but this time, with a set of impressive looking gauntlets named Hansel and Brittle. They were made of steel, with intricate patterns etched all along their exterior. Placing her hand up near the glass, she couldn’t imagine how the gauntlets could be used by anyone but a gigantic human. Or an ursa perhaps.

Next was a gorgeous ornate halberd balanced against a thin wooden stand. Moonwind - The Runed Halberd of the late noble Family Head, Charlotte Hiford. Of the three, it was the only one that had a description with it, not that its quality needed any further indication. A gorgeous steel head that sat on top of a rich mahogany shaft that glistened in the dying light of the setting sun.

Brushing her hand past the glass, a rush of energy left her fingertips tingling. With a gasp, Ellen took a step back and rubbed her hands together.

Magical weapons were hard to find and the fact that this halberd was in such good condition left Ellen speechless as she took in the weapon’s beauty.

“Ellen. Sit.” Her father called over to her and broke her out of the halberd’s spell. With a click of his fingers, Ellen hurried over to sit next to her father.

Somehow, everyone else had come in already and were seated at the table, with Alexia and Viera already pouring themselves a glass of wine. Ellen meekly dropped into the cushioned seat and looked at the floor, “Sorry father.”

He ignored her and turned back to Viera, “I understand how the Institute will cater to their mundane classes but I don’t understand the additional costs. We have to pay the school fees as well as pay for lodging, food, and other expenses. It costs as much as having her attend the Academy or even a school in Sanctuary, frankly. I question if the benefits outweigh the cost.”

Viera delicately plucked one of the charcuterie knives off the table and moved her hand over to one of the cheeses on the charcuterie board, “It is a lot of money. But how much did it cost for her tutors and her trainers? How much did it cost to have her outfitted for the summer and winter events each year? And the stabling of her horse?” She said as she sliced herself a piece of cheese.

No one spoke and Viera took a biscuit, combined it with her cheese and popped them both in her mouth. Even as she chewed, swallowed and then took a sip of wine, no one bothered to interject, “But for your family, money isn’t an issue. I would wager that you could save quite a lot of coin if you had her stay in one of the taverns instead of staying at the Hiford Estate if cost really were a concern?”

Reginald loudly scoffed and looked at Alexia and then back to Viera. Ellen offered a weak smile to Wosche who smiled back. Ellen should have insisted that Wosche and his mother didn’t join them. She should’ve known her father was on the warpath and that Alexia being there would make no difference.

“Ellen and Wosche will help earn their way when they begin contracts and she will be given free tutoring from me and my assistants. Ellen is far ahead of the other children her age and there are no better teachers for the practical application of magic than those here in the south.” Viera wiped her hand on the napkin in front of her.

Reginald said nothing and took a piece of bread and dipped it in a bowl of oil before eating it.

Viera motioned to Ellen and Wosche. Happy to oblige, Ellen took a piece of bread and added meat and cheese to it before eating them all like Viera had.

Ellen wasn’t prepared for how delicious it was. The meat was well smoked and the bread was wonderfully soft. She had heard that the food was excellent in the south but this was a step above even the food that she had had on the way to Ol’Haran. She took another piece of bread and waited for her father to finish using the knife between them.

“Alexia, do you have questions about the program for Wosche?” Viera asked brightly.

Alexia made a slight chirp as she was caught halfway in drinking some of her wine. She finished her sip and covered her mouth to reply, “Oh no, so long as Wosche is happy, I trust his education will be in good hands. And I respect his decision.”

“Wonderful,” Viera smiled at Ellen warmly, “and Ellen, Wosche? Do you have any questions now that you are here? What do you think about the Silver Spoon?”

Ellen avoided her eye contact and looked instead at her father before looking down into her lap once more, “I, um. I like the tavern. And the meat is very well smoked.”

“And the bread is so fresh, did they bake it here?” Wosche followed up happily.

“Oh, is it that good?” Viera responded lightly and reached for the bread and a piece of ham, “I am not sure but I have heard that the Silver Spoon chef is excellent. People have travelled from Ilreana to try their cooking, I have been told.”

She took a bite of the bread and gleamed happily as she chewed it, “And so, no questions?”

Before Ellen could catch herself, she blurted out, “Thank you for giving us this opportunity.”

Her ears started burning and she felt herself turn bright red. There hadn’t been time to thank her for offering them a chance back in the capital and Ellen had always wanted to express her gratitude.

Only after the words came from her mouth did she realise it might not have been the best time. Everyone at the table politely smiled at her while they let the odd compliment hang between them. Everyone save her father, who had stopped eating and instead stared straight ahead in a palpable rage.

“It is my absolute pleasure, Ellen. Thank you for coming to visit me in Ol’Haran.” Viera smiled sweetly.

“Thank you.” Ellen forced out and grabbed a cup for her to get some water. She poured out a long draw of water.

Her father took advantage of the pause and began again, “The contracts. How will you be able to assure the safety of the students if they will be engaging in dangerous activities?”

“Well, they will have chaperones who will help to ensure that the risks they take are managed. Their safety is obviously my priority and they will only go on bronze contracts that I have personally vetted. It is, undeniably, a dangerous job.” Viera explained, the smile replaced by a stern look as she faced Ellen’s father head on.

Taking another long sip, Viera paused for a moment before she continued, “But your two children have been brought up for a life in the military. You have raised them to understand that violence is a matter of life in the north and they will be required by our country to do what must be done sometimes. See, you and I both know that there is another war coming. And we also know that sitting in school won’t prepare them.”

Her words struck Ellen. The way Viera talked was of absolute certainty and any levity that remained in the room was gone as all four of them took heed of what she said. A dangerous gleam to her eye challenged them to disagree, it almost begged Ellen’s father to say something. Anything.

“We weren’t prepared for the Ursa of Mahenia in the north ten years ago and we aren’t prepared for the oruks of Karitia in the south when they come in the coming years.” Viera started once more, pointing at Wosche and Ellen as she gave her foreboding prediction, “But your children will be. And they will rise through the ranks thanks to what they learn here and now. None of their peers in Kudraul will be able to say the same.”

Ellen leant back in her chair and took a breath. Her mind reeled at the ideas Viera presented. The rumours of hostilities in the south were common and the history was bloody but to hear Viera say there was going to be war without a hint of uncertainty in her voice was terrifying.

No one spoke for a minute as all but Viera ate more of the delicious food. Viera instead stared evenly at Ellen’s father who managed to both eat and stare right back.

Ellen resolved to grab a piece of bread with added oil and salt to try it out before her father stormed her out of the room.

When no one spoke up, Viera pushed on, her voice low and serious, “Or we could wrap our children up in cotton wool and pretend that things are going to be ok while we all hide in the capital.”

Ellen watched her father tense up. He was furious but hid it behind a polite sneer and a pretend sip of his wine. He hated not being taken seriously. Ellen could see him push the anger and hatred down, folding it deep down for later. For years, he would hold onto the resentment and rail at Ellen and her mother, calling Viera any amount of horrible names while he strode around in the safety of their estate’s salon and tea room. Just as he’d told Ellen to do; better to bear any indignity when she was insulted and wait for the time to get her flesh back when everyone else had forgotten. It was his way and he revelled in getting more than his pound of flesh back when the time came.

Viera smiled politely at him and held his stare. Not that it would be so easy with Viera. She wasn’t from any lesser Family. Everyone knew who Viera was and while she was not in line to be the head of the House Mitome, she was so famous that Ellen was sure she could make a claim for control of Lead of their House if she wanted.

Even her father would know not to go after her. He’d risk his Family’s position if he moved against someone like Viera. She had powerful, powerful friends. Deep inside, a warmth spread throughout Ellen as she watched her father squirm.

Alexia broke the tension by brightly adding her own opinion, “With the adventurers now being used more by the Houses, there might even be a place in the military for people who can organise and orchestrate their contracts appropriately.”

Reginald scoffed and banged his glass on the table as he put it down again, “And they’ll be seen as little more than the mercenaries they cavort with, with chequered pasts and wide open coin purses.”

Viera sucked her teeth and interrupted him, “Let the gossipers whinge and bicker while we make the world then, Reginald. Like it or not, the nature of war is changing. It is a fact that the adventurers are the ones with the best grasp at the moment of the ways we can use magic offensively, and that is coming from me of all people. I can only imagine that General Loui will be eager to have some new blood that can help to refine the mages of the Armed Corps. Even the Queen’s Guard.” Viera gave Ellen a look as she added the last sentence and Ellen’s heart soared at the idea.

“Viera, please. Don’t indulge my daughter with that nonsense. If she is going to study here, she can’t be coddled.” Ellen’s father stopped and turned to Ellen, “She is not going to be in the Royal Guard. She’s not going to be promoted nor will she rise through the ranks. She will join the army next year and if we are lucky, she might be able to become an officer down the line but only if she can outgrow the shame that she has brought on us all.”

A hot flash burned through Ellen. After ignoring his nasty jibes the whole trip, Ellen was at her limit for father’s punishment. Embarrassing her in front of everyone,Wosche, and Alexia and Viera was too much. The indignity of everything was too cruel and Ellen could hold it in no longer. Looking her father dead in the eye, she said what she had been feeling for a long time, “Fuck you.”

The words came out as a squeak. Tears immediately welled up in her eyes as the anger came bubbling up from within her. She was furious and the tears undercut how truly fed up she felt by dealing with her father’s ire.

Reginald shot up out of his seat and slapped her. The force of his open hand propelled her head down to the table but she caught herself just in time. Her cheek radiated with pain as she cowered away from his second strike. With a clenched fist, he stood above her with a mad look in his eye

If she timed it right, she could catch his hand but then she’d need t-

“Enough!” Viera commanded and stood up, “Ellen, get out right now. Reginald, sit.”

Ellen bowed her head and fled from her chair. Favouring the right side where Wosche sat, Ellen ducked away and did a full circle of the table to avoid getting in her father’s path. One of his rings had collected her cheek bone when he slapped her and a little bit of blood came away with her hand when she rubbed her face.

She yanked the door handle hard and the door obeyed immediately. Flying back, Ellen scrambled to slow it down before it could hit the wall to the side. As she got a grip on the side of the door, she swept through quickly, eager to be out of sight of her father and the others.

So desperate to flee from the room, Ellen didn’t realise she was going to collide with someone on the other side of the door until it was much too late.

Hitting their chest nose-first, she knocked the drink in their hand as her arms flailed to find space between them. In one swift motion, his drink moved to one side and his other hand dragged her to the side.

“Daelos’ Dick, girl. Watch where you’re going.” He said, his voice gruff and breath reeking of ale.

“Sorry, excuse me.” Ellen tried to twist out of his grip but had little luck.

“You’ve got a sword on you. No weapons in the bar, didn’t Joun tell you?” He was a similar size to her but shockingly strong. His whole outfit was red, from his vermillion singlet to his deep maroon trousers and he looked rugged with long, unkempt hair on his head and his chin. Both his beard and hair were jet black with little red beads adjourning them both intermittently.

He was old, maybe around forty, and looked like he’d recently been caught up in a world of trouble. With two black eyes and a wonky nose, he was the scary-looking vagabond that her father wouldn’t want her anywhere near.

Giddy from the adrenaline, Ellen choked back an unexpected laugh as it bubbled up. Pressing it back down, Ellen twisted her right arm hard to break free from his grip, “That is my business.”

“Just keep it in the sheath.” he warned as he sidestepped her and stormed over to the dining tables at the back.

Ellen pushed the weird interaction from her mind, choosing to return to the bar instead. The barkeep was serving a few folk and chatted happily as she made her way over. Deciding not to get his attention, Ellen used the time to compose herself, wiping away her tears and rubbing her hands over her face in long, even strokes.

“Nobling, what would you like?” The man behind the bar leant backwards from his friends and called across to her.

“One glass of ale and a bowl of soup please,” Ellen stumbled over her words but forced them out all the same.

“Make it two of each, my good sir.” Wosche declared confidently as he appeared beside her.

“Just barkeep. One silver, fifty copper each.”

Ellen searched in her pouch for two silver and put them on the bar. Wosche put two silver of his own, winked at Ellen and then returned one of her coins to her.

Joining them, the barkeep swept the three silver up, moved over to the taps, and proceeded to politely ignore them.

“Sooo, what in the hells was that?” Wosche began playfully as he turned to her.

Ellen glared back and considered slapping him. He was never serious about anything and it really pissed her off.

“What do you think?” She replied petulantly. Being snide was beneath her but she refused to care. She was furious. Furious at the world, furious at her father, and furious at Wosche who followed her out.

Wosche put his hand on his chest and acted shocked, “I just don’t think I have ever seen you cry and then as soon as you step into the Famous Silver Spoon Tavern, you start welling up. In front of all these burly, scary looking adventurers.”

Ellen let out a laugh but held onto the anger, “I just hate how he controls my life. Like it is his life and I am just here as a passenger. I hate that I can’t make my own decisions, even at nineteen. I just hate,” She stopped and composed herself before she said too much, “I am going to just focus on being resilient; Whatever happens.”

With one big wipe of her face with the back of her sleeve, she put on a weak smile and found the barkeep staring back at her with two drinks in his hands, “Like, starting now, I will stop crying in front of the burly adventurers.”

“Ain’t nothing wrong with crying, girlie.” He said, flashing her a small smile before he dropped the drinks on the table, “Two ales. Grab a seat on the tables; it will be a bit until you get your stew.”

Ellen watched the man return to his friends and she nearly burst into tears again. Clenching her teeth and hissing out a breath through her teeth, Ellen swore she was going to do better. First, a place to sit and some food before her father came to collect her. Then, she would face whatever punishment he had planned with the grit of the Queen’s Guard, even if she would never be one.

Swivelling in the chair to face the tavern again, Ellen found that the dining room was a good deal busier than it had been before.

Several tables in the far corner were still vacant but they had the added disadvantage of being right next to the bard playing their rousing music. They were talented and gave the tavern the ambience Ellen had been dreaming of, but she preferred not to be directly in their blast zone. Far back in the tavern, the strange man she’d bumped into before sat with a group of similarly rough looking compatriots. One human and the other oruk and all three of them looking battered even from the other side of the dining room. Ellen made sure not to look too long as the oruk noticed her.

Wosche tapped her lightly on the shoulder as he passed her by, bee-lining his way towards the booths that were set against the windows on the side of the dining room. Expertly weaving through the tables, Wosche held his ale up high and shared several choice comments with those he passed. The two ladies chuckled as he stepped past them and almost spilt his drink. With a look back at Ellen, he winked and beckoned her forwards into the chaos.

Joining the tavern proper felt awkward, like she had walked into another world that she had always wanted to visit but now realised she wasn’t welcome in. Unlike a festival or an event, the tavern bustled with a natural, riotous energy that assaulted Ellen’s senses and gave her an odd sense of ill-ease.

Watching Wosche sprint towards one of the last booths that was free, already clearly belonging in the crowd made her feel even worse somehow. He’d made it all the way through to an empty booth on the far side and Ellen had to force her way through the narrow passages that snaked through the tables. A dribble of the ale cascaded over the lip of her drink and soaked into the front of her shirt but she pressed on. The little oval stain was yet another disappointment that she’d have to wear for the day. Moving on was what she needed to focus on after all was said and done, with her first step to that being getting some food in her stomach.

By the time she made it to Wosche, he had already settled into the soft cushions of one side of the booth and held his ale in both hands as if it were warming him up. With a proud grin, he welcomed her to the booth, “I got the booth.”

“Clearly.” Ellen replied as she sat down opposite him. Several dishes were still piled up near the large window with a half- drunk glass of wine sitting at the edge of the mess. As she scooted down to the far end of the booth, Ellen placed her cup on the table and switched the dirty dishes all the way to the far end of the table.

Settling into her seat, the last rays of sunshine greeted her warmly through the window as night fell. Outside, the world continued without her, from the folk on the outside tables laughing and carrying on as they enjoyed their day to the folk who passed by without a second thought to the Ellen or the Silver Spoon Tavern.

“How cool is this?” Wosche asked her, “Doesn’t this feel like the start of something awesome?”

Ellen tried to hold onto the anger but found it harder than she’d anticipated, “You ass.”

Wosche hid a grin behind a sip of his drink and Ellen followed suit. First a tangy sweetness then a bitter finish made Ellen wince.

She had no idea how people liked the taste of ale. Yuossaf, her brother, told her he could drink a barrel of it by himself. Ellen couldn’t imagine anything worse but tried to at least feign enjoyment for Wosche, “Delicious.”

“It is actually a good ale,” Wosche informed her, “but I’ll drink yours if you can’t handle it.”

Ellen pulled her glass to her chest, “You wish. If it is an acquired taste; I shall simply acquire it.”

“We should get a good amount of practice next year, I’d bet.” Wosche responded enthusiastically, “Look at us. Every weekend, we should come down here, get to know some of the regulars and swap stories of the contracts we’ve been on.”

A sudden, sickening heat rose up from Ellen’s stomach as she listened to him, “You know the rest of us are being punished, right? We didn’t have a choice but to come down here.”

Wosche leant back in his chair, “I know, I know. I won’t be so flippant with the others when they’re here. But Ellen. This is going to be a blessing in disguise. We talked about how sick of the Academy we were. Now, look at us.”

“It’s different when you get expelled, Wosche. You can head back to Kudraul next year and no one bats an eye. You did some gap year bullshit, gap year bullshit for the second time in a row I might add, and then you come back to regale everyone with your interesting stories of travel.” Ellen knew she was venting at him but now she was going, it was impossible to stop, “I got expelled. Teon, Riu, Olive and I got expelled and there’s no place for us back in the capital and there’s probably no place for me here.”

People looked at Ellen and Wosche from the tables nearby when her voice started to become raised. Ellen cleared her throat and calmed herself down, “Just be careful when you see them. You choosing to come here isn’t the same.”

“Alright, yeah. I understand. Sorry for being a dick.” Wosche responded, slightly dejectedly.

“Apology accepted.” She forced a smile and offered her glass to cheers.

With a faux look of shock and hurt, Wosche pouted at her, “You’re meant to tell me that I'm not being a dick?”

“Just take the peace offering.”

Wosche’s face quickly changed to a glare before he tapped her glass and took a swig of his drink.

Ellen forced another mouthful down and placed her drink back on the table to find Wosche had drained almost half of his drink already. Both of them had drunk before but with their parents in the same building and in public, Ellen couldn’t help but feel slightly scandalised.

If Wosche noticed her concern, he gave no indication of it as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, “Have you heard from any of the others recently?”

“Not yet, I have been stuck in the study every day.” Ellen worked the saliva in her mouth to try and get rid of the lingering taste of the ale, “My father found a way to get the lesson notes from the teachers at the Academy and he has made the tutors teach me everything that they are studying back in the capital. Some part of him is convinced he can find a way to force them to let me back before the Exams happen.”

Wosche said nothing and watched her ingenuously. Whenever she was mad, he liked to stare at her even though she’d told him that she hated it.

Ellen shifted around to look at the tavern around them instead. Close by, the group that had heard her yell at Wosche were distracted again and none of the other tables had even noticed her at the beginning. In a room full of strange, loud folk, they were just another two minding their own business.

Like an electric shock, Ellen realised she’d never sat in a tavern without her parents before. Or without a chauffeur outside of Kudraul even. Whenever they were out in the capital, her father or one of their servants had stuck to her like glue to a shoe.

She let the strange realisation wash over her as she picked up her drink again. After one last inspection, she poured as much of it as she could into Wosche’s drink before she slid the glass over to join the rest of the other dirty dishes.

Picking up the conversation again, Ellen commented lightly as she looked at Wosche again, “Olive hasn’t responded to any of my letters yet. But I know Riu is definitely moving down south. Her parents were trying to convince mine to split accommodation for some fancy tavern near the Hiford Estate but my father refused. And then, Teon is moving with her aunty and uncle in town so she’ll be here with her family.”

“Oh yeah, Teon’s aunty lives down here. It will be nice to see her.” Wosche took another large sip from his drink, “And where will you stay if you are staying?”

“Apparently, my father has organised a room with the First Family of the Hiford Family in the Estate. I am meant to play nice with them because there was some discussion that I could be marrying one of their sons someday. Or I might have been before.” Ellen had been told the summer beforehand. Her father had insisted it would help her set a place for herself in the courts but that felt like a lifetime ago.

“They really had it all planned out, hey? With a southern noble.” Wosche looked out the window distantly. Wosche had told her before that he’d planned to never marry but he knew he might not get much of a say in it. Even his parents could only be so flexible.

“And you? Where will you be staying?” Ellen adjusted herself in the seat, fighting her scabbard as it refused to sit nicely in the booth. She shifted it and unclasped the sheath from her belt to lay her sword out on the seat next to her.

“My parents have a few friends down in Ol’Haran so I will stay in one of their rooms to begin with, I believe. But then, once I can move out, I want to get myself a house down here, something quaint for holidaying in the future, you know?” Wosche looked back at her and then over her right shoulder with his face suddenly lighting up.

Shifting over to the edge of the booth, he met the waiter as they tried to put their stews on the table.

The waiter held Wosche’s stew back and fixed him in place with a look, “It’s hot.”

Wosche placed his hands at his side and smiled as the waiter placed both of the stews on the table.

“Thank you,” Ellen offered her hand up and grabbed the utensils instead her bowl, “So a house? How much do they cost down here?”

“A bit. But I have a bit of money saved up and my parents will probably want a place to stay when they visit me so they’ll chip in. And a good house is worth the money for traders like us, anyways.” Wosche explained before shovelling a large chunk of potato and broth into his mouth. Immediately, his face convulsed and he was forced to spit the stew out onto the table, “Oh, that is too hot.”

“She told you.” Ellen tutted him as she blew on a spoonful of her own stew. Taking a bite was too bold for her, at least for now, “A house up on the hill then? I’m not sure how the Hiford Families will feel about that.”

“Oh, they like us plenty. They’ve offered a few shops to my mum before. If they do buy something, I’ve asked her to make sure the store has an apartment for me.” Wosche took another swig of his ale and then went about stirring his stew, “You’d be welcome to stay over if you’d like.”

Ellen scooped out a spoonful of food and chuckled, “That would go about as well as a sack of stones with my father. Something something chastity, something honour. Even down here, I doubt he’ll give me that much freedom.”

Wosche held his spoon up, “I don’t know, we’re a long way from the capital now.”

Ellen pursed her lips but said nothing, preferring to try the stew than waste her time explaining. The stew was surprisingly delicious. With hearty chunks of carrots and potatoes breaking apart in her mouth from hours of simmering, they mixed perfectly with the umami of the rich beefy broth. She relished the flavour, conscious that the bites she had now could possibly be the only dinner she was going to get.

No doubt in a few minutes, her father would stride over and tell her to pack her things and they’d head back to the Estate. He’d be furious all night but hopefully, by the morning, his anger would blow over. One advantage of travelling to Breisachia afterwards was that there would be plenty of time for her to make amends with him.

“The whole house to yourself, but Wosche, who is going to do the chores?” Ellen forced herself to push the conversation forward as she spooned out a piece of beef from the stew.

Wosche was midway through dipping his spoon but stopped to give an exaggerated gasp, “I will be looking after the house, thank you very much. You know I can cook.”

Ellen blew on her spoon, put the piece of delectably tender beef in her mouth and simply watched him. However whimsical, they’d been friends long enough for Ellen to know when she’d actually got through his skin. Putting her hand over her mouth as she chewed, Ellen relished the taste for a moment before speaking, “Well, yeah sure, but the cleaning and the clothes and the dishes. I just assumed you’d get a maid is all. Some nice old lady or a nice strong man to do all the housework you don’t want to do.”

Wosche’s eyes narrowed and he took another sip of his ale.

Ellen let Wosche be mad. The assumption that he’d get help was a ridiculous reason for him to be upset. His family was Housed in all but name, with a personal wealth above many of the Families and their lavish home in the capital had a full retinue of staff for the three of them.

It was no matter, Ellen let him grumble away while she found her appetite coming back in full force. The stew was still piping hot but her stomach demanded satisfaction. The freshness of the ingredients made such a big difference for a stew and that was clearly something the Silver Spoon chef appreciated. The focus that they’d put on the deliciousness was notable and Ellen appreciated it on such an overwhelming day.

Most others in the tavern had dinner of some sorts as well. From the stories she’d heard of country taverns, she’d expected far more cavorting, drinking, and possibly even fighting but even a Board tavern like this one was quite tame.

As she settled in, hints of the adventurers surfaced for her to see. Ordinary folk with heavier clothes saddled onto large bags either at their feet or on the chairs next to them and nearly every person in the place in heavy hiking boots. There was no fantastical armour or finery that Ellen had heard of in the stories and the first word that popped into her mind when she scanned the crowd was weathered.

Only a few tables over, two mousey looking individuals looked particularly unkempt as they huddled next to each other. Their eyes darted around the room, avoiding Ellen’s gaze as they searched for something or someone else and they quietly talked together, “Told me that the Board would be back in a few hours. I told them it was an emergency.”

Ellen moved on, scanning the other side of the tavern as she continued. Listening in on their conversation was beneath her and they were by no means the most interesting people in the dining room in any case.

Without her realising, she settled on watching the man in red again. With his back to her, he was deep in conversation with his friends as they drank. He let out a booming laugh and spilt his ale across the table as he replied with his hands waving madly in the air.

There was something about the strange man that fascinated her. She couldn’t quite put her finger on it but she’d heard of him before, somewhere. With dark olive skin that was more common in the eastern human lands, he could have been an outlander if not for the fact that he looked perfectly at home. Built like a wall and as loud as a thunderstorm, Ellen would be shocked if he wasn’t a born Weidenman.

Pursing her lips, the idea was on the tip of her tongue but continued to elude her. Perhaps the red outfit was throwing her, or the fact that she was the only one in the tavern that had seemed to notice how odd he looked.

Then, he suddenly stopped and shifted in his seat to look back at her. Flinching as their eyes met, Ellen’s gut told her to look away. Instead, she locked eyes with him, conscious of the crazy look in his eye.

After a few seconds, he swivelled in his chair to properly square up to look at her, matching her gaze unabashedly as his glass came to his mouth. A swig for him and a spoonful of stew for her and neither blinked as their contest continued. His friends continued to talk behind him until he leant backwards and tapped on the table. Saying something, he gestured over to her and they swivelled to look as well.

Ellen caved, shifting her gaze over to the bar to pretend like she didn’t care in the slightest. The three of them kept staring, their eyes burning at the edge of her periphery. At the bar, a familiar face waved to get Ellen’s attention. Viera parted the crowd as she strode confidently through the tables with Alexia in close pursuit.

Relief washed over Ellen. She didn’t care if the strange folk over the way saw as she waved emphatically back to Viera. Amidst the uproar, both Alexia and Viera floated towards her, warm smiles on their faces as they happily chatted just out of earshot. In the crowd behind them, her father was nowhere to be seen.

Ellen pushed out to the edge of the booth, ready to get up until Viera gestured her back down. As Viera joined them, Ellen shifted back along the side of the booth, using the chance to afford herself a quick glance to see if the man in red was still watching. Without the slightest modesty, all three of them were still watching, leering as they talked to one another.

“Unbelievable,” Viera muttered darkly as she waved across to the group and shook her head. A grin spread across the man’s face as he toasted in their general situation. Regally, Viera turned her back on the group and stood at the front of the booth, “There you two are, set up nicely in the booth. A wonderful choice.”

Ellen put on a brave smile and shifted her sword to sit between her and the wall. In one sweeping movement, Viera dropped into the seat next to her and let out a satisfied sigh, “Much better. And you got some stew and a nice drink. Wonderful, shall we bring the food from the Boardroom out here?”

“Yes. Please,” Ellen jumped in first before Wosche, “but we can go back too.”

“I like it out here more too.” Wosche agreed and he made space for his mother to sit. Without a word, Alexia shuffled in to join them and grabbed Wosche’s drink for a small sip.

“Excellent, the Boardroom was more for your father anyway, Ellen.” Viera concluded. Turning to and waving down the waiter, Viera pointed to the Board room and then their booth before giving them a final enthusiastic nod, “It feels more spirited out here, which I can say I am quite the fan of. I can just picture what it is like to be a contractor out here. Or adventurer, I mean.”

“Viera, where is my father?” Ellen couldn’t see much of the dining room with Viera next to her and couldn’t see him anywhere in the tavern.

Placing her hand on Ellen’s shoulder, Viera responded in a steady, soothing voice that Ellen knew was put on just for her, “He needed to head off and he asked us to help you back to the Estate later. He thought he might have some time to rest after such a long trip. You’ll see him tomorrow; I am sure.”

Ellen nodded but felt sick at the idea, “Maybe I should head back now and see if I can talk to him.”

As she tried to get up, Viera stayed in her chair, blocking her path. On the other side of the booth, Alexia reached across to put her hand in front of Ellen, “Dear, let him cool down. It is getting dark out there and Wosche and I will take you back to the Estate later. Sit back down and have dinner with us, ok?”

Ellen hesitated then relented. Her heart pounded in her chest and her appetite disappeared as she imagined her father leaving without her. She put her hands in her lap and tried not to fidget. Alexia was right, even if she caught up with her father, he wouldn’t want anything to do with her anyway.

Ellen had another spoon of stew and focussed on the rich flavours. The others were watching her and she needed to make her Family proud.

After a moment of tense silence, the waiter returned, carrying two platters and the jug of water that he placed gently on the booth’s table.

Viera organised the platters so they covered the table and pushed the last plate back to the waiter, “Thank you, Heul. We’ll get the ale and the glasses here and two stews like the children and then the other platters, and this one here, can go over to Harlea’s table over there.”

Heul looked at her and then the direction her finger pointed before giving Viera a quizzical look, “Harlea?”

“Yes, Harlea. And please give him the message that he is annoyingly late. Thank you.”

“Absolutely, madam.” Heul said as he gave a slight bow and made his leave.

“Veira?” Ellen asked quietly, “Who is Harlea?”

“Ah, Ellen.” Viera began with a wide smile, “That man is one of your chaperones for the year. The leader of the infamous Red Damnables, no less.”