Elven Legacy

Chapter 33

Tessa

On the fifth evening, they arrived to the city of Bachezze. They were making decent time, despite lagging far behind Zemisha and her captors. Tessa's mare, Dawn, and the four other horses were starting to tire. They weren't, after all, demons, and thus needed to be properly cared for.

Kitera and Jaden agreed on a place called The Cat and Mouse Inn, mainly because it had a charming outdoors terrace stretching out on either side of the front porch. It was situated in Bachezze's Temple District, with many passersby thronging the street even as the warm, cloudy night shrouded the city. Also, Tessa noted the occasional Red Patrol, as the Azurians called it. The dreaded militia uniformed in red, always men – women weren't allowed – armed with swords and cudgels, and notoriously unabashed when it came to using either one. Tessa kept her hood drawn low.

Underneath the cloak, she had on black leather ankle boots, tight black pants and gray long-sleeved shirt. Across from her, Moira made for a stark contrast, brightly charming in her corseted traveling dress, with her red hair woven in a fresh side braid. The two of them sat alone at their table in a corner of the terrace, ironwork railing curving around them with hanging geranium pots.

Frankly, it was rather awkward.

Jaden and Dharkan had gone to find the nearest public baths, since the inn didn't offer that particular service. As for Kitera, she'd already retired for the night a few moments ago. The silence that now lay thick between Tessa and Moira was a palpable thing, offsetting the lively conversations that rose around them. This far south into the empire, everyone spoke Azurian.

All in all, it was a pleasant night. Tessa could easily understand why so many people enjoyed frequenting these sorts of terraces. The wind breezed along in an ideal mixture of warmth and briskness – you certainly couldn't find this type of weather in Fellera on an early autumn night.

The wind held with it the scent of carriage-pulling horses and torch smoke from the bracketed street torches. However, stronger and much more pleasing were the scents of the terrace itself – fragrant teas ordered by patrons, as well as the lemongrass candles set on each wooden tabletop to keep insects away.

If she turned her head to the side, she could see the massive sandstone temple across the cobbled street, with its matching grand sandstone staircase leading to the triple set of ebony doors. The roof of the building tapered upward to form an ornate row of spires. Even at this hour, the temple breathed a steady flow of people in, and spilled others out.

Tessa might've fancied a visit, to see if her history tutors had been correct about all the shrines, paintings and statues of the many gods and goddesses. However, with her peculiar appearance and the whole cloak-and-hood affair, it was perhaps best not to trouble the temple's routine, whatever it may be.

As Tessa half-heartedly sipped her wine – she'd already taken her vial of sin and preferred not to add too much alcohol to the mix – she eavesdropped on some nearby conversations.

One couple argued, over their steaming teas, about which version of the pantheon's origin story made the most sense when you thought about it from a scientific angle, what with the newest astronomical theories. Tessa soon ignored them and instead paid attention to a group of three men seated just behind Moira.

They were critiquing Emperor Neros. His policies – or lack thereof – and his plummeting funds, resulting in raised taxes for ordinary, hard-working people like them three. With a furtive glance, Tessa estimated their ages between thirty and forty.

Moira misunderstood the glance, most likely assuming Tessa had looked at her, because she asked, "Is there something you want to say to me?"

Well, Tessa hadn't been doing so before, but she threw the eighteen-year-old a glance now – it couldn't be helped.