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“Very well,” Nikolai said. “I will tell you.” * * * * * Wild cinnamon hair and deep-set brown eyes that were smiling, always smiling, even though life had clearly beaten her down. Her clothes were ragged, although she seemed to have done her best to wash and arrange them attractively. Ratty string replaced the broken strap of one sandal on feet that were red and swollen from too much walking. Here was a woman who, despite her pride, needed some charity. The second she stepped into the tavern, Nikolai knew she wasn’t a paying customer. The dog trailing behind her, all skin and bones, took in the scent of food but lacked enough hope to even drool.
And she did, giving most of her free time to Roran. She even ignored the customers, choosing instead to sit with Roran at his corner table, her eyes locked on her brother as he muttered words too soft for Nikolai to hear.
other, weary but happy as chairs scraped across the floor. Sura had the gall to open the tavern! Nikolai called out, surprised at how dry and powerless his voice had become, but the festivities above were already too loud. The miners worked in shifts and came to the tavern in large groups, the atmosphere escalating from still to rambunctious within seconds. His only chance would be when one of the miners went to relieve himself out back. The rear entrance and the cellar door were side by side. Only there, in the stillness between forest and tavern, might one of his former patrons hear him call out.
rustling of trees calling him home, but he wasn’t done yet. His hair bristled. Sura was watching him from inside the tavern. He could smell her excitement and fear, sweet and sour. The scent disgusted him. She moved deeper into the building.
Lali would have to leave. She knew she would, regardless of what else he had to say. She needed to show him that she didn’t need him, wouldn’t depend on him or use him for anything. She wasn’t like Sura, but he couldn’t see that yet because she had been walking in those very same footsteps.