The Blood Heir

Chapter Three: An Announcement

Part 1: Royal Pain

His face stung from where Nyla had slapped him. Ren thought he had known she would react brashly, maybe even pull that dagger on him, he had even wanted her to. Just to get a reaction. But after she hit him, she had stormed out of her own rooms. He sat in the same chair that she had left him in. She did not return to him that night.

Nyla crept carefully down the alleyway, her feet silent on the cobblestone. The hem of her dress was wadded in her hand. Ren was an idiot, if he was even serious. She gripped her dagger in one hand and a small bag of gold coins in the other. Her heart sank as she realized getting into a tavern dressed like she was, was suicide. Although, she could defend herself easily. She didn't want the attention. She was already too far from the castle to go back for her own, so she approached a homeless drunk that was unconscious and slouched against the side of a decrepit building. She ever so carefully pulled off his raggedy cloak and dropped a couple coins into his lap, aware of the fact that if anyone saw them, they would probably try and rob the poor man. But, if they weren't stolen, the golden coins would get him a better cloak and more than one hot meal. She wrapped herself up in it and made her way to the tavern down the street.

The smell of smoke and stale piss hung in the air as she sat at a table in the far corner of the tavern's bar room. A barmaid set down a tankard of ale in front of her and she nodded to her. The air was thick in her throat. Only a couple of tables were full, most of the patrons passed out on one another. She shook her head and took a swig of the ale. It was strong and after half of the tankard was gone, there was a buzz in her blood. It wasn't the kind of thing that happened when she was chasing her targets, but it was something more dangerous. She emptied it and waved to the barmaid for another. A flash of silver caught her eye and she looked up from the depths of her hood as her tankard was refilled. A familiar face closed the door to the tavern and sat at a table. Multiple men followed behind. She lifted the tankard to her mouth and drank deeply. She felt some run out of her lips and down her chin. Nyla just wiped herself off with the back of her hand. Then she stood and straightened her back, making the best effort to walk proudly over to his table. She failed miserably. But she made it without falling completely on her face. "Hey!" She said. Her voice was rushed and quiet. "What are you doing here?!" He asked, his voice hushed. Nyla frowned deeply and her legs started to give out. She steadied herself on the back of his chair. "What am I doing here? What are you doing here? You're supposed to be courting yourself a queen!" She hiccuped, "Not drinking at a tavern!" She slurred angrily. Dante frowned at her and his nostrils flared, as if he was smelling her. "Are you drunk?" He asked. She stumbled backwards a tiny bit surprised. He reached out and caught her as she tripped over the tattered edge of the sodden cloak. She righted herself, brushing off some loose dirt on the front of her. His warmth soaked through the cloak and even her dress. "Where did you find this?" He demanded, turning his nose up at the cloak. "Hey, are you going to play?" One man asked the prince and he let go of her. His sudden warmth was gone. She whined to herself and started to walk away. Strong hands grabbed her again and then she was being pulled backwards. The breath was knocked out of her. She closed her eyes, expecting to be killed right then and there. But she was sat down instead. She opened her eyes to find where she has been sat, is a lap. Dante's lap nonetheless. She glared at him from under her hood and he just smiled and went through the cards he had been dealt. Nyla growled in protest, careful not to knock the hood off of her head. "Shh, I'm playing a game love." He put his cards out, face up, and all the men at the table groan. "You win Dante." A burly man said. He looked more like a bear than a human. Dante raked in eighteen silver coins and pocketed them. She pushed against his chest, but he just put a strong arm around her waist and held her in place. He shifted her and she fell into a more comfortable position. "Okay, round two. Three silvers to join. Who's in?" The prince threw his coins into the center and the round started.