As I twist free of the blankets, I struggle to decipher which way is up. Sinking my nails into the sheets does nothing to stop the residual spinning. The dizziness only grows stronger when I hiccup and taste faint remnants of the liquor. Atop the nightstand is a pitcher of water and a glass, the latter holding down a note.
"Drink lots of water. You're going to need it. There's food at your height in the kitchen when you're ready. I'll be in my workshop if you need me.
- Too many us sounds."
Lumbering around the house covered in blankets, I spend the day chugging water and nibbling on salty fried bread topped with some kind of zingy spread. Ares is already gone, the hearth looking like a tornado rampaged through it. The low couch is shoved back against a wall, I can only assume to have made space for him to pass out. Despite him kicking off the blanket, there are several and even more pillows strewn about. Desperate to be useful, I fold and stack things away in a closet.
Time to be brave. Ish.
Outside the front door, the town is reassuringly quiet. It's mid afternoon and bitter cold. Before I can change my mind, I adjust the backpack on my shoulder and close the door behind me.
No one seems to care about seeing a human. Barely anyone glances my way as I get lost wandering the gravel streets. There's a relief in being ignored, after all the weeks of people fawning over my ring and impending wedding. I rub at the blank space on my left ring finger and suck in a deep breath of crisp cold.
"Flora?"
I start with a jump and spin around to see Laith.
"Sorry, wasn't trying to scare you. Are you looking for And?"
"No. I'm just," I look around and shrug, "exploring, I guess. And it's Vitkus."
Laith somehow grunts out an amused sound without even a slight smile, "Well done."
"What are you doing?"
"Getting lunch. You can come with me, if you like."
Laith walks past me, looking unconcerned with if I follow him or not. I rush a few steps ahead to keep up with him. An icy breeze blasts down the street. Laith shivers and buttons up the dark coat he's wearing over a high collared sweater. Without a coat, I wrap my arms tight around myself for warmth.
"You should probably buy a coat," he mumbles with a furrow in his brow.
"I will," I answer, not mentioning that I have one, but can't bring myself to wear it because of who it smells like. What it reminds me of.
A thick juniper tree grows beside the door of the stone building that I follow Laith to. One branch, dotted with blue berries, droops over the signage. Puffed up birds litter the greenery and frantically pluck as many berries as they can fit into their beaks. The creak of a door calls my attention away and I rush through the door Laith holds open for me.
The low tables look even stranger when there are multiples. The floor in front of the long, low bar is bordered by a raised leather cushion. Laith settles down on it with his tail flicked over his back legs and reaches over the bar for a menu that he barely glances at. I kneel on the cushion and look at his menu instead of feeling around on the other side for one of my own.
"Oh, Pipsqueak, you survived the night."
I squeak out an offended sound and look up to see Ares.
"My name's not Pipsqueak."
"That sound you made isn't helping your case."
Movement catching my eye makes me turn away before I can think up a retort. Beside me, Laith is covering his mouth with a hand and failing to hide his snickering.
"You're both jerks," I pout.
"Oh, don't be sore," Ares hand musses my hair, "I'm just impressed you're standing twelve hours after taking a shot of our liquor. Would a free lunch make us friends again?"
I swat his hand away, "It would help."
"Does that mean I'm getting a free lunch too?" Laith inquires.
"Nah, you already know for sure that I'm an asshole. That ship has sailed."
Laith laughs covertly again, except I join in this time.
The pub is quiet but for a few human travelers that stop in for a hot drink or folded to-go boxes of food. Between the interruptions, Ares and Laith mostly discuss work. The former tells seemingly endless stories of throwing out unruly patrons, that seem to be disproportionately my kind. I can't fathom how or why any creature my size would try to act macho in the face of someone like Ares. The latter talks about his eyes growing tired from shaping and resetting a mess of tiny tourmaline stones all day. Ares points out a burn on Laith's hand at one point, snatching it from across the bar as he does and forcibly wrapping a bandage over it while Laith protests and goes red in the cheeks. The word overprotective resounds in my head. I keep my mouth stuffed with sandwich and parsnip chips to avoid having to pretend I know anything about what they're discussing.
"What about you?"
I look up to find both of them watching me expectantly.
"What about me?" I say around my final mouthful of lunch.
"What do you do?" Ares elaborates.
"Do?"
"For work." Laith softly adds.
"Ummm."
"You must've done something back in Leaven, right?"
"Oh, well, um," I dab at my lips with a napkin and wilt under their eyes, "no?"
They look at each other in silent surprise. I think about telling them what I know of my father's textile business, but speaking of that like it's my own feels embarrassing. Potentially even more embarrassing than admitting the most work I ever did was selecting color schemes and decorations for parties.
.
"Do you want me to walk you back to And's?" Laith asks outside as he rebuttons his coat.
"No, I'm alright on my own."
The cold out is even more bitter and bitey now that the sun is nearly set. A piebald centaur passes by me in a wool wrap of flaming red, rubbing the frozen tips of her ears between her fingers. I pull the sweater sleeves down to cover my hands and take the tighter, warmer alleys back toward the house.
Inside, the warmth Andrius is stoking to life in the fireplace makes me shudder in relief. His golden hair is wet and mostly bundled atop his head. As I close the door behind me, I can smell the honey-cream fragrance of his soap. He looks over his shoulder at me and his brows raise.
"You didn't take your coat?"