He led Chocolate to the bar, where a middle-aged bartender in a uniform looked up and smiled at him.
"First ti here, sir? What can I get for you?"
"A low-alcohol drink, preferably warm."
"ow~"
Chocolate chid in, her little paws scrabbling at his shoulder, as if to remind him there was a cat to consider.
"Oh, and so dessert. Let see."
He craned his neck to look at the shelves behind the bartender. "That one, and the one over there. That should be enough for now, I think."
The bartender used the stub of a pencil to jot down Jenkins's order on a pad of paper bound with wire. Then he asked:
"For the low-alcohol drink, would juice be all right?"
"Of course. That would be perfect."
He had assud the taverns in Ruen only served strong spirits.
The tavern's tables were round, fashioned from cross-sections of logs. Jenkins chose one in the back. With food on the way, the cat wouldn't wander off, so Jenkins, now free to relax, surveyed the other patrons while pondering how he should handle his relationship with Briny from now on.
Perhaps because the tavern was expensive, its clientele was of a higher caliber. The few occupied tables were quiet, with no loud conversations. The loudest sound in the room ca from a harp cradled near the wall.
The musician was a handso young man, his eyes closed as he swayed gently to the soft rhythm of his own music, completely lost in the lody.
Jenkins had never heard a style of music quite like it. It reminded him of dappled sunlight filtering through leaves, of white doves gliding past giant trees, and of a lake's surface shimring in the sun.
Everything felt so peaceful. His mood involuntarily eased, and even Chocolate grew unusually quiet, listening intently.
Soon, another custor stepped into the warm tavern from the swirling snow outside. It was a woman in a cloak, her hood shielding her from the storm. Though he couldn't see her face, Jenkins recognized her as Miss Stuart's personal maid, Julia.
The woman ordered so food and a drink from the bartender, and as she turned to find a table, she saw Jenkins. A surprised smile lit up her face, and she ca over to sit across from him.
"Good evening, Miss Minnewick. Are you here on an errand for Miss Stuart?"
"Good evening, Mr. Williams. I'm quite surprised to see you here. No, I'm just out for a stroll. Her Highness was invited to a party tonight by the younger daughter of Duke Congreve, so she doesn't require my services. What brings you here?"
It was a rare mont for the two of them to be alone. Usually, it was Jenkins with Alexia, and Julia with Miss Stuart.
"Alexia is away for the week, and I was in a foul mood tonight, so I decided to wander around Ruen. I'm in the middle of a train journey, and it's been absolutely dreadful."
The man grumbled softly.
"Miss Miller didn't tell us where she was going either, but I imagine she'll be back before the week is out. If you're feeling on edge, you should co here more often. It's a bit pricey, but this tavern is truly wonderful."
The maid consoled him, her voice full of empathy.
"Is sothing troubling you as well?"
Jenkins asked in return.
"Everyone has their worries."
Julia replied softly but didn't elaborate.
He knew a little about the maid's past. Her story was even more tragic than Fini's, because Fini had at least known her parents, and before eting Jenkins, she had relatives willing to look after her.
What Julia and Fini had in common was that they had both t a "benefactor." Eight years ago, on a snowy night, Miss Stuart had picked the girl out from a crowd of beggars with a single glance. From that mont on, Julia Minnewick's fate was transford. The first ten years of her life and everything that followed were so different they seed to belong to two separate people.
Julia had never spoken of this past to Jenkins, and he wasn't tactless enough to ask. He only thought of it on occasion, when he saw Fini, since he now played a role in her life similar to the one Miss Stuart played in Julia's.
"I've realized you're truly different from others."
Julia said, her spirit soothed by the harp's music. It emboldened her to say things to Jenkins that were perhaps inappropriate for soone of her station.
"If you're going to say that I treat you differently than others—as an equal, not as a servant—then there's no need."
Jenkins advised, sohow, in this relaxed state, he could easily read Julia's thoughts. Her words connected to his other life, and after the intense tension and terror of the evening had given way to relief, he suddenly found himself missing that other place.
"You really are different."
The woman murmured with feeling, tilting her head as she watched Chocolate, now full, curl up beside Jenkins's hand to rest.
After about twenty minutes, the conversation sohow turned to the harp.
"Look at that man by the wall, playing the harp. Doesn't he look like a bard from the old legends? You know, the Enchanters who relied on spells and musical abilities. It's quite fascinating."
Jenkins asked, still lost in mories of a bygone era.
"A bard? I didn't realize you read those kinds of epic novels. He does look the part, but our era is no longer as primitive and wild as those tis."
"Primitive... I actually quite like the scenes from the ancient legends. Adventurers traveling in parties, wizards in their towers plumbing the world's mysteries, dragons roaring across the sky, and gods watching over mortals from above. Taverns bustling with life, bards singing tales aloud, warriors boasting of their day's spoils, rogues toying with their daggers in the corner, and mages weaving new sches under their cloaks. The light of sorcery and divine arts illuminating the world, with strange creatures thriving on the fringes of civilization..."
He realized he was getting a little too excited, shook his head with a smile, and trailed off.
"That must have all been a very long ti ago."
Julia couldn't fully grasp what Jenkins was feeling. In this world, no one could understand the emotions of this stranger from another land.
A silence fell between them. To break the awkwardness, Jenkins stood up, intending to order more food for them both.
"What you were saying just now was very interesting."
As he brought out a glass of juice, the bartender complinted him. Jenkins hadn't deliberately lowered his voice earlier, since the things he described could also be found in popular novels.
"Truly interesting. It almost makes wish I could go back to that fascinating era."
As he spoke, he handed Jenkins a third drink, one he hadn't ordered. This last glass looked like plain water, very ordinary.
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