Regal |Fantasy Ryden AU| DISCONTINUED

-7-

The pungent scent of mead and an amalgamation of drunken laughs washed over the quartet in a blast of warm air as they stepped inside the tavern.  Torches adorned the stone walls and gave a soft warm glow to the room, illuminating the tables at which groups of battle-hardened men sat and drank.  There were even two bards in the corner, drunkenly strumming on their lutes and drums and belting out songs without a care in the world.  The atmosphere in the tavern was startling, to say the least, and Jon seemed to be the only one who wasn't concerned in the slightest.

"This is a madman's house,"  Brendon muttered under his breath, his eyes wide as he surveyed the room.  Two of the men had large axes slung over their shoulders as they let out hearty laughs and downed bottles and bottles of mead.  Another one of the men even had a massive warhammer on his back, and the mere sight of it alone sent shivers down the prince's spine.

The people of Wimborne were unhinged.

Swallowing the lump forming in his throat, Spencer tried his best to put on a reassuring smile.  "Fear not, Your Highness,"  he said, straightening his posture.  "It's only for one night, and I can assure you that staying here is much better than making shelter somewhere outside."

"It's not the state of the tavern I'm concerned about, my dear Smith,"  Brendon said, disgust written all over his face as he watched the warhammer man dump an entire bottle of mead on his head.  "It's the fact that we may be murdered by drunken lunatics that's bothering me."

"Oh, come on, Your Highness,"  Jon said with a laugh, his arms crossed as he nudged the prince in the ribs.  "These guys look friendly.  Look at him.  Now he's pouring mead all over his warhammer and licking it off.  What a champ."

"Did you happen to miss the dried blood on the hilt, mage?  This man looks far from friendly."

From the prince's other side, Ryan gulped, fear glimmering in his eyes as he turned to look at the royal trio.  "I don't like this place,"  he murmured, barely moving his lips in fear of one of the frightening battle-hardened men hearing their conversation.

"None of us do, my dear village boy,"  Brendon said, crossing his arms over his chest.  "This place is the home of a lunatic.  I'm starting to think we'd be better off--"

He suddenly trailed off as a beautiful young woman with blonde hair as pale as her skin made her way toward them.  Confidence radiated off of her as she came to a stop before the quartet, her arms crossed and her hip cocked to the side.

"On second thought, this tavern might not be so bad,"  Brendon said to the others, a salacious glimmer twinkling in his eyes as he turned back to look at the young woman, his bottom lip caught between his teeth.

"What can I do for you folks?"  she asked, her voice buttery and her expression as blank and disinterested as can be.  "Need a room?  A drink?"

"I could go for a dr--"  Jon tried to say, but he stopped when Spencer hit him on the back of the head.

Completely ignoring Jon's comment, Brendon focused all of his attention on the stunning young woman standing before him.  "Good evening, darlin',"  he said.  He couldn't keep his gaze from drifting down to her breasts.  "Yes, we'd like to rent a room for the night.  Two, to be exact.  One for them, and maybe a separate one for you and me."

The young woman smacked his hand away when he tried to snake it around her waist.  Still, her expression remained stoic and unbothered.  "I don't know who you think you are, sir, but I'm not interested in having meaningless sex with the likes of you,"  she said without missing a beat, indifferent to the look of shock on the prince's face.  "That'll be forty coins for two rooms, and that's counting me out."