How To Fall From Grace [MxM]

Step 5: Fall into a door frame

Frey wrinkled his nose as he stepped inside the tavern. It probably was a fancier kind of tavern by a commoner's standards, but the mere concept of such a place seemed horrendous to him. All kinds of people would have rented the rooms upstairs. How could someone even imagine lying down in one of those beds?

"You didn't say we were going to a place like this. Why did we have to come here?" he whispered to Damien. "Why did I have to come here?"

"I need to get acquainted with the owner. With the tavern this close to the harbour, he picks up his fair share of relevant rumours and gossip." Damien gave him a tired look. "And you wouldn't have followed if I'd told you where we were going."

"Well, you're right about that," Frey muttered as he watched a staggering man disappear upstairs together with a giggling lady. He pitied the tavern beds. "You could just as well have sent servants to find that kind of information out."

"I want to hear it in person, especially if it's about sensitive subjects." Damien began making his way through the crowd, and Frey hurried to remain close to him.

"Lord Clausson! Lord Clausson, over here!"

Frey's eye twitched and he pursed his lips together as he turned towards the source of the voice. He didn't generally associate with people who spent their time at a tavern aside from the aforementioned Cromwells, but neither of them had a deep voice like that. His eyes fell on a curly haired, young man with twinkling brown eyes and a wide grin on his face.

"Stable boy," Frey confirmed under his breath, low enough so no one could hear. So that's where his friends had taken him. He began turning away but the other man wouldn't budge.

"I never see you here! Are you here on business?"

He'd clearly been drinking, not that his manners were flawless to begin with, but Frey's discomfort as people began turning their heads towards him made it hard for him to make a scene. He instead turned back and nodded briefly at the stable boy to acknowledge him, hoping that'd be the end of that, but another voice soon joined in.

"The Lord Clausson?" Another man at the same table stood up to look over the stable boy's head. "What's he doing here, Marius? Did you invite him?"

The rest of the table's inhabitants looked just as intrigued by this exciting encounter and began talking over each other while speculating what a lord could be doing there.

"Don't be stupid." Marius pushed his friend down onto his chair again. "He's obviously here to do some, uh..." He waved his hand in the air as if grasping for words. "Some important lord thing!"

"You should sit with us!" The friend stood up again and tried waving Frey over. "There's plenty of room and we're just getting started!"

"Stop it, Oliver. He's busy, probably..." Marius shook his head as if embarrassed, but still sent a look in Frey's direction as if expecting a reply.

"What's wrong, Marius?" The man called Oliver raised his voice further. "Are you scared we'll tell him how much you wanna fu—"

"I never said that!" Marius hurriedly talked over him, clearly delivering a kick to his shin under the table. "Shut up!"

"But it's so obvious the way you talk about him." Oliver kicked him back.

Frey wasn't really listening to the conversation anymore. He only tried to slowly move away from the table, acting as if he was above caring about all gazes currently being on him.

"Come on, Lordy. Sit with us!" Oliver tried again, and even if Frey had considered it before, the attempted nickname made him even more certain it wouldn't happen.