The Duke's Stolen Bride

The Tavern

"Um, we're closed."

The lights were on, but that did not mean the tavern was busy. Ceila had closed the door quickly, the slam echoing throughout the building with her back against the door, and the cloak covering her face.

The initial room was large with dark oak flooring and a harsh green carpet at the beginning, beneath her feet. There were no windows but the walls were adorned with various paintings, trinkets, and decorations to the point where there was no real theme except for chaotic and personal. There were tables with 4 chairs each to match and a few booths pressed against the walls with a dark red velvet-type fabric. In the middle of the room, was the bar. A bit of a unique spot, generally it would be against a wall or attached to the kitchen, but this was right in the middle of the room like a large cube with space in the middle for the bartender to be making drinks. There were barstools all around it, watching them from each corner.

There were only a handful of people in the tavern, it was just the staff cleaning up. A woman stood in front of Ceila, the one who spoke, she was of average height and build with fair skin and pale purple hair pulled back into a ponytail. She was wearing a typical barmaid outfit with a white blouse tucked into a long, brown skirt. There was a broom in her hands as she swept up the main entrance.

Behind her were two darker-skinned workers, a male and a female, with matching dark green hair. One had curly hair while the other wore theirs straight. They had simple and casual outfits with the man having a bit more elegance to him. They were in the bar, cleaning up the area.

And they all turned to stare at Celia the moment she entered the room. The little luck she had in the beginning was all the luck allowed to her.

She stammered for a moment, trying to figure out what to say or what to do. She could hear the shouting getting closer outside, the guards from the baron's house were closing in on her. Leaving the tavern would only grab their attention but staying inside kept her trapped. No matter which way she chose, she was going to be caught.

"Are you okay? You look terrified." The original woman questioned, her eyebrow raising as she tossed aside her broom, letting it fall to the ground. She moved closer to Ceila, her hands out as if she was approaching a wounded animal.

Ceila didn't respond, she wasn't sure if she even could. Her voice felt non-existent, forgotten by her panic and heavy breaths. Every part of her was starting to hurt, with her ankle and lungs the worst. Both felt like fire crawling through her until she thought she could collapse. She wanted to collapse.

The shouts were growing closer.

Except the woman in front of her seemed to hear them now as well and her eyes narrowed, though not at Celia. They were behind her, towards the door the perfect lady held closed so desperately. It took the woman mere seconds to have an idea of what was going on.

"This way," she spoke in a hushed and quick tone. The severity of the situation was not lost on her.

Perhaps it was because she had no other choice, or because Ceila was so desperate to have somebody save her, that she decided to trust this woman. Without knowing anything about her, Ceila followed the woman.

The two behind the bar watched, but said nothing. There was no need, the woman seemed to know exactly what to do.

The woman brought Ceila over to the side of the room to a lone, small door. She opened it to reveal a small storage space and shoved Ceila in it as gentle yet forceful as she could. "Stay quiet."

And then she shut the door.

Breathing was getting hard now and Ceila clutched her chest as she leaned back against the shelves, letting them dig into her back. She'd rather that than let her legs tremble.