Trial of the Valkyrie

Sweet and Right and Merciful

Chapter Six - Sweet and Right and Merciful

Song: Cherry Wine - Hozier

"It was easy to kiss someone when it didn't matter; it was more difficult when it might be meaningful."

― Silvia Moreno-Garcia in Mexican Gothic

A    Z    R    I    E    L

It had been decades since Azriel had visited this tavern. Hell, likely a century had passed since he'd set foot through that door and heard the soft jingle of the rusty bell overhead.

Inside everything was much the same – evidently not much had changed in his absence. Not that he was surprised by that. The Illyrians' reputation for being slow to change their ways apparently extended to all aspects of their lives.

He guided Gwyn to a table by the tavern-front window and pulled out her chair loudly. Azriel glanced about the tavern surreptitiously to see if anyone was watching the display. Surely this gallant act would earn them a point or two with the locals as a married couple.

Who saw? Azriel asked his shadows.

The male in the corner... The barmaid... The barkeep...

A good start then. Azriel headed to the opposite side of the table to his own seat.

While he wasn't exactly Windhaven's biggest advocate, he did appreciate sitting in a chair where he didn't have to be so mindful of his wings. That was a benefit to being here, he supposed. Everything was made to accommodate him.

Azriel took a few moments to memorize the layout of the restaurant – the exits, the windows, any unsavory characters. He scanned everything from the dark oak walls to the oil lamps mounting them. His shadows continued to advise who was watching, who took note of their presence. So far the most encompassing emotion was curiosity. It outweighed the hints of fear and judgment that his shadows had also picked up on.

Eventually, a server approached the table. Gwyn looked at Azriel, brows high in question.

Taking the queue to order for her, Azriel requested two bowls of stew and a bottle of pellori. The server bobbed their head and departed for the kitchen.

He turned to Gwyn. "I figured pellori may be helpful in further establishing our relationship, but you're not obligated to have more than a sip." The corner of his lip hitched up. "Especially after last night."

She angled her head. "Sorry what is pellori?"

He felt the smile on his lips threaten to broaden. "It's an Illyrian wine for newlyweds."

"Oh." She perked up slightly, interest clearly piqued. "What makes it for newlyweds?"

Before he could answer, the server returned, uncorking a stout green bottle. They set it on the table, along with two wine glasses, then departed with a polite smile. One that Azriel's shadows interpreted as... genuine.

Strange, he thought as he poured them each a helping of the dark red liquid.

Gwyn raised her glass to her nose, giving it an apprehensive sniff.

Azriel mirrored her, finally answering the question. "It's supposed to stimulate virility and fertility."

Gwyn went stiff, eyes rounding as they fixed on him.