Lady of the Sea

Ch 16

As the sun dipped lower in the sky, casting the forest in hues of orange and red, she spotted something up ahead: a small village nestled between the trees. Smoke curled lazily from chimneys, and she could hear the faint sounds of life—voices, laughter, and the clinking of metal on metal. A blacksmith, perhaps.

Her stomach twisted, not from hunger this time, but from the uncertainty of what awaited her. She had no idea how the villagers would receive a stranger, let alone one dressed in tattered pirate garb with no clear story to tell. But she had no other choice. She needed food, rest, and more than anything, information.

Marina urged the horse forward, her heart pounding as the village grew closer. The path turned from dirt to cobblestone, and soon she found herself at the outskirts of the settlement. Children ran past her, playing in the street, while traders packed up their stalls for the evening. The village was humble but alive, the scent of cooking fires mixing with the earthy smells of the surrounding forest.

She dismounted the mare and tied it next to what appeared to be an inn—a two-story building with a sign swinging gently in the breeze, painted with the image of a crescent moon. The wooden beams creaked as she stepped inside, and the warm glow of lanterns welcomed her. A few villagers sat around the tables, drinking and speaking in low murmurs.

Behind the bar, a stocky man with a salt-and-pepper beard looked up, his eyes narrowing as they landed on her. "Help you, miss?" His voice was gruff, but not unkind.

Marina hesitated. "I'm looking for a place to stay the night," she said, her voice quieter than she intended. "And food, if you have any."

The innkeeper eyed her suspiciously, his gaze drifting from her bedraggled appearance to the horse tethered outside. "Got coin?"

Marina felt her heart sink. She had nothing to offer—no money, no trade, not even the earrings she had bartered away for the horse. Desperation crept into her chest. "I... I don't, but I'm willing to work. I can help clean, or—"

The innkeeper waved his hand, cutting her off. "No need for that," he muttered, wiping his hands on a rag. "We've had enough drifters pass through lately. But if you've got nothing to offer, there's nothing I can do."

Her stomach clenched, a rising sense of panic filling her. But just as she was about to turn away, a voice called from across the room.

"She'll be staying on my tab."

Marina's head whipped around to see a man sitting at a corner table, shrouded in the shadow of the flickering firelight. His long coat was weathered, and his boots were caked in mud from travel. A hood concealed most of his face, but his voice was rich, smooth, and commanding enough to make everyone in the room glance his way.

The innkeeper's eyes flickered between Marina and the stranger, clearly weighing the situation. After a brief pause, he gave a curt nod. "If that's how it is." He jerked his chin toward an empty table. "Sit. I'll bring something out for you."

Marina hesitated, unsure whether to be relieved or cautious. She wasn't in a position to refuse, so she made her way to the table near the fire, every muscle in her body protesting as she sat down. The stranger didn't look at her directly, keeping his gaze on the flames as he sipped from a tankard.

"Thank you," she murmured, glancing at him. "I don't know how I'll repay you."

"You don't need to," he said simply, his voice low and calm. "Not yet, anyway."

There was something unsettling about his words, though he didn't seem threatening. She waited for him to say more, but he remained silent, as though he were waiting for her to speak first.