The Curse of the Red Death | Hiatus

8 | A Whole New World

Her body had never felt heavier. Waking up to the early morning light with the muffled hubbub of the tavern below, she took her time to stretch out her travel-weary muscles. She was exhausted. Sitting up, she rubbed the grains of sleep from her eyes. The morning light was just beginning to seep in through the windows. The rest of her family was asleep. Rubbing the back of her neck, she slipped as quietly as she could out of the bed. Crossing the floor toward the window, she opened the shutters and peeked out.

The streets were empty and grey. Life had yet to reach the outside world this early in the morning. Jane tiptoed over to her back and began to withdraw all of her belongings. Who knew how long they'd be in this tavern? She might as well make herself at home. Stepping into the bathroom and shutting the door, she changed into a fresh outfit. The other one had been stained with sweat and dirt. Grimacing, she turned on the water in the tub and threw her clothes in. Once the water covered the clothes, she poured in a little bit of the soap and began to scrub.

By the time the others were awake, her clothes were scrubbed clean and hanging over chairs to dry.

"Good morning," she drawled and smiled in amusement at her brother's bedhead.

"Morning," her parents muttered at the same time. Both looked as weary as she felt.

What she would give for a day of rest! They all desperately needed it. While her family gathered their wits, she crept down below into the tavern. A couple of large groups were already in the tavern sharing breakfast with ale and juice. It seemed really early for ale, but who was she to judge?

She headed over to the bar and smiled at Jamethson. "Good morning, sir."

He gave her a sharp glance over, brow furrowed as he studied her. Recognition relaxed his features. "You're one of the people from yesterday. The ones from Rosehaven, aye?"

"Yes, sir."

"What can I do for you, miss? It's on the Guard."

"Oh, uhm." She frowned down at the counter. She didn't even know what to order. "Breakfast? Breakfast would be lovely. Whatever you have. We'll eat anything at this point, I think."

Jamethson chuckled and nodded. "Aye, we can do breakfast. For how many?"

"Four, please. Could you add extra bacon to one of the plates? My brother is growing and eats twice as much as the rest of us."

"Ah, young lads." Jamethson's face lit up with a warm smile. "Have one of my own back home. Growing like a beansprout that one. Sure thing, miss, extra bacon."

"Thank you so much." She took a seat at one of the barstools and turned around to view the other patrons.

Having never been out of Rosehaven, she was fascinated by the different kinds of people. Some with skin the color of gems and others with long pointed ears that extended much farther than any elf she had ever seen. She tried not to stare for too long. They were beautiful and fascinating, and she felt so ignorant. A small sense of shame gnawed at her stomach as she took in everything. How little she knew of the world. This was everyday life for some people.

The doors swung open and the little bell rang. Drawing her attention toward the door, a group of rough-looking men entered. Sailors, she assumed, by their various tattoos and other vestments. She leaned back in her chair, gnawing on her fingernail as she watched them take a seat at the nearby table like they owned it.

The bell rang once more.

A half-orc with dark green skin, which reminded her of ferns, stepped foot into the tavern. He was tall. Broad shoulders. A jovial glint danced through his eyes. She couldn't tell what color they were from here. Dark blue? Brown? No clue. His hair was long and black, half of it was pulled back and the rest fell across his back. Two braids, starting behind his pierced, pointed ears, draped across his shoulders. His beard was thick, but not long and neatly trimmed. It looked good on him.