𝖗𝖔𝖌𝖚𝖊, 𝐡𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐲 𝐯

( 01 )

      𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐙𝐀𝐁𝐄𝐓𝐇 𝐖𝐀𝐓𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐃 as a handsome boy stumbled around the tavern, his smile wide and his breath tinged with the smell of ale. Tapping her fingers on the tabletop, Elizabeth watched curiously as he grabbed onto a friend and laughed loudly, jesting with the rugged man as he sloshed his mug back and forth.

      Tonight was the first time Elizabeth had entered the Boar's Head Tavern, and though it was a dirty place, she found herself thoroughly pleased with the environment created by the small tavern. Everyone was happy, albeit because of the drink in their bellies, and as she sat quietly in the corner, Tristan sulking at her side, she couldn't take her eyes off the boy across the room.

      "He is a deviant," Tristan grumbled, his arms crossed over his chest as he glared at the boy Elizabeth was so enamored with.

      She chuckled as she sipped on her sweet wine. "Well, of course," she said with a smirk. "Anyone who so much as looks at his face could deduce that, Tristan." Her friend grumbled and turned away, his chest puffing up and deflating with a heavy sigh. Elizabeth clicked her tongue and nudged the Knight with her elbow. "Come on! Smile! Enjoy yourself!"

      Elizabeth continued to bother Tristan with her amused attempts to cheer the grouchy Knight up, but her efforts were futile. No matter what she did, he would never be pleased to frequent such places.

      Unlike herself and Perceval, Tristan had always been a stickler for the rules. It was a miracle Elizabeth had even convinced him to join her that night! Usually, it was Perceval who accompanied her to the taverns and inns.

      With a heavy sigh, Elizabeth turned away and shook her head, her curls bouncing lightly as she set her mug down. "Fine, be a grouch." Once again, Elizabeth found herself enamored with the boy across the tavern as he turned around and belted out the lyrics to the drinking song many of his fellow patrons were singing. His song was abruptly ended by a foul burp as he fell into another fit of laughter.

      With a slow grin, Elizabeth twirled her mug on the table. The boy's soft, dark curls danced in his face as he shook with his laughter. Something about his smile was so very contagious, and it didn't take long for Tristan to take notice of her intense stare.

      "My Lady," he started, his hand raising to cover Elizabeth's as she made a move to stand up.

      She raised her brow at him. "I'll just be a moment," she said softly, sliding her hand from under Tristan's as she slid around the table and stood, smoothing the wrinkles in her plain skirt.

      Tristan wanted to protest, but Elizabeth didn't give him the chance to. However, before she could step even three feet away, the boy suddenly slid into view, his stance unsteady as he stood before Elizabeth.

      "You," the boy slurred, his alcohol-tainted breath washing over Elizabeth's face. She struggled to hide the grimace that curled her nose.

      "Me," she retorted with a smile, her eyes scanning the boy's face now that he was closer. She immediately noticed the odd scar on his left cheekbone.