Elora Van Eck | Kaz Brekker

FIVE | THE STERLING PIGEON

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e l o r a

CLINKING GLASSES AND GENTLE LAUGHTER were what filled the bar with life and ease in the early evening. The joy that was carried through packed streets by the guests, filled faces with glee. The way they ate, drank, laughed, and danced drenched everyone's clothes in salvation, which could penetrate through their scarred skin. All were allowed to forget their pain and the cause of their twisting stomach for a few hours.

Elora's ears were filled with conversations and fits of laughter from the guests and an unconscious smile crossed her lips. Working in the bar was exhausting, even at this early hour, but the distraction did her being a favor. For long moments she forgot about her father, Flynn, her mother, and all the responsibilities that lay on the young girl's shoulders, crushing her bones to bits.

She turned away from what was asked of her – to marry a noble man for the security of her father's fortune. The consciousness had left a scratch on the dream world in which Jan put his feet up safely. He understood the unpredictability of the world he had chosen to enter. His name got him a lot of attention. Unfortunately, however, Van Eck was not on everyone's lips an admiration of the well-known merchant. Fearing for his more or less fair earned fortune, he sold his daughter's future without a trace of consideration for his own flesh and blood. By no means was this a plan for Elora's best, but simply to take a load off her father's shoulders. Jan would never want his children to pursue their passion. Such civil concerns did not interest him, and the girl surely was aware of her father's mindset. Still, though her heart pained in thought of her fore planned future, Elora did not say anything.

"Elora, darling," a soft voice lulled Elora in comfort, while she wiped one of the unoccupied wooden tables. A careful hand came to rest on her shoulder, "Would you mind table seven, please?"

Elora's gaze lifted and wandered across the room until it landed on one of the rearmost tables. Most visible tables stood free but nevertheless, the group of three decided to sit down in the darkest corner of the bar. A grin played around Elora's lips and with a wavering look at the woman, she nodded in agreement, "Of course, Mrs. Fanning." And Mrs. Fanning gave her a knowing smile before pulling back.

Mrs. Fanning and her husband owned one of the most famous bars in the Geldstraat area. The sterling pigeon held the record of the most visited, and the merits had nurtured the Fanning's pleasant living conditions for several generations. Even if the place were bustling with rich merchants at nighttime hours who were literally giving away their money, Elora knew she would never meet a certain person. Her father disliked such places where he was to be served on a silver platter to the public. Ultimately, the man was well aware of his enemies. And although the Fanning's had been friends of the family for years, they were only found in community in the living room of the Van Eck mansion for game nights with selected participants.

Mrs. Fanning was a small, fragile woman, her dark blond hair shimmered silver and she almost seemed too old to have a daughter Elora's age. Nevertheless, Elora's eyes caught sight of the figure of Koralina Fanning, who, in the company of two friends, took a seat at table seven in her parents' bar.

Elora stepped closer and with the snootiest voice possible, asked the order of the well-known guests. Immediately she was silenced by the copper-haired girl who implied throwing a blade at her. "Shut up and sit down. It sucks how elected the rich people express themselves," she snarled, avoiding how both, Koralina and Elora, rolled their eyes at these words. She despised the rich, nevertheless, she called the girls her friends, spent every free minute in the wealthiest area of Ketterdam. Nobody knew much about her, but Dunyasha Lazareva was still a name that sounded familiar to many.