Each year the Kingdom of Khearia throws a festival in remembrance of one of their most beloved kings who had tragically perished along with his wife and second son. His first son, Prince Fabian, was the only one to survive. Witnesses claimed his cro...
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James waited but Alex never showed up at their room.
ㅤIf James pressed his ear against the wall, he could hear all three of the other men next door; Thomas, Riley, and Fletcher. They'd all settled down by the time James had snuck back in, the cool evening air pushing people back into the warmth, but Alex was nowhere to be seen.
ㅤJames peered out the window, looking down at the street. Drunken men staggered, hollering gleefully as they tripped over uneven cobbles, framed in orange from the fiery street lamps. It wasn't much quieter than the storey below him, laughter rippling through the floorboards he stood on.
ㅤThe women were dressed much nicer than the men, dolling beautiful dresses that James could appreciate. The fabrics weren't expensive, the commoners couldn't afford that. Instead, their garments were crafted in a way that would emphasise their existing beauty, hugging in all the right places, handmade and personalised. Opposed to the noble ladies who used frilly flamboyant dresses as a way to replace what they lacked, like plain sparrows donning peacock feathers, the women down here were unique and beautiful in so many different ways and their clothing reflected that.
ㅤJames smiled. King, his arse. Life down here was so much better and so much more exciting. He wouldn't give it up for anything.
ㅤHe did briefly consider going down to the tavern downstairs to flirt with some of the gorgeous ladies but he didn't think it would be polite to do so whilst he was still pursuing Alex. Maybe a little look around wouldn't hurt though.
ㅤTaking a cloak out from his bag, he wrapped it around his shoulders, pulling the hood up. He'd started keeping his hair out of his face recently so he ruffled it back over his forehead, nervous about people freaking out over the colour of his eyes. Many didn't care, but he couldn't be too careful.
ㅤKeeping Eris hidden under his cloak, he quietly toed through the corridor, not wanting to be heard by the other three.
ㅤDown the stairs he went, the chatter getting louder with each step. The best part about staying at an inn was the easy access of booze right below.
ㅤDarkened confusing figures squeezed past each other, the tavern packed tightly with people. The customers were outlined with what James thought was a brown or orange shine from the numerous lamps that hung in the corners. Even if it was tricky, James could see most of the details, so he didn't feel too anxious.
ㅤWeaving among the crowd, enjoying the warmth of other people as he brushed past them, he made his way to the bar in good spirits. The fact that no one here knew him felt comfortable, he could blend in or vanish at his pleasure, tetherless, free.
ㅤThe countertop was sticky as James leaned his elbows against it, his sleeves clinging to the wood and picking up the smell of stale beer. A young woman was pouring something into a cup from a barrel's tap, her back turned to the customers. James let himself admire a little.
