The bellowing of the men's laughter as they slammed their mazers against one another, collided with the loud voices of the giggling ladies as their hands snuck into the men's garments in a sensuous manner, rubbing them off the coins they had carefully tucked away before they came,
The music struggled with all the noise, still managing to be defined in its melodious combination, over the loud conversation, as the scantily dressed ladies on the stage, floor, and tables, danced to it.
This was the Tavern.
A place far from the Capital's Market Square, and hidden away.
Life here was different from the life of the people closest to the Square.
Here it was music, it was alcohol, it was sex, it was violence.
It was easy to kill someone here and get away with it.
The Tarvern was a safe place for many atrocities, having only one major rule to be followed - Whatever happened the Tarvern, stayed in the Tarvern.
A woman in a red cloak and hood stepped in, the heels of her boots silent against the floor, as she approached the bartender. She tossed a small sack of coins on the table, one which he quickly snatched away without breaking the conversation he was having with someone else.
He titled his head in acknowledgment, passed someone a mazer, and slid a key over to her.
With the key dangling around her long polished red nails, she went upstairs, the noise reducing the further she went. She stopped by a door, made use of the key, and entered the room.
Someone was waiting for her, as expected.
Once the door was locked, she took off her cloak. She could show her face here.
It would not be good for the people to see the Right-hand woman in the Tavern. Asides from them being afraid that she would rat them out to the King, leading to their haven's lockdown, it would raise suspicion about her mission here.
She didn't want that.
"I thought two years ago was the last time I would see you.." Kestra said, her hands fiddling with the sleeves of her dress.
She missed her flamboyant red dress.
This room had been decorated for her, she noticed. Everything was in matching red.
He knew what she liked, she had taught him well.
"My brother's doing." He smiled, moving away from the wall he had been leaning against.
Her eyes followed him like he was a prey she didn't want to risk losing.
Sometimes she forgot he and Anok were related. They were just so different. It almost reminded her of another set of brothers she knew.
Ah, of course! That was why Anok was so loyal to the King because he saved his brother's life.
Why was she always forgetting that? Maybe because of how insignificant it was.
"You are not supposed to come back." She clicked her fingernails against the goblet as she picked it up from the table, pouring alcohol into it before she raised it to her lips. "You know that."
He laughed, the sound like a dragged rough breath. "I am a fool for your charms, Kestra. You know that."
"Fool, indeed." She hummed, the alcohol stinging her lips. Then, she set the goblet aside. "Come here."
His steps quickened with eagerness.
"Did you like the stones I set at your doorstep?"
Kestra rolled her eyes.
If she had known that he was back, he would have been her first suspect.
She had stumbled into his arms one night, after the King had lost his then bride to the Bride Thief antics, and was a little withdrawn from her. He was her prey, easy to fool but hard to get rid of.
She had only wanted to see if the King would be jealous if she got with someone else, if he had any feelings for her at all, and only needed something to be done to invoke it.
The King had not been jealous, instead, he had expressed his relief that his feeding nature hadn't completely held her back from doing whatever she wanted with her life.
Even now, she could still feel the rage that had crossed through her, when he had said that.
He was just so blind to her feelings!
"On your knees," she spat.
He chuckled. "You still haven't chang---"
Her boot connected against his leg, cutting him off and bringing him to his knees, a gasp slipping past his lips.
Pain and pleasure were always an interesting mix.
They got down to the pleasure part soon, and just like it had been two years before, another man's name slipped out of her mouth in pleasurable moans.
How hard was it, exactly, to whisper the name 'Kenji'?
___
Belladonna woke up with her start, stumbling to her feet and out of the sofa she had fallen asleep on.
Eli still wasn't back but her heart was pounding too loudly for her to remember what she had been worried about before she fell asleep.
She had a dream.
It was a confusing one.
She had dreamt of the gem, of Pamela in it, as if she was trapped in the glowing blue globe.
She had also dreamt of doors, so many doors.
A memory flashed in her mind, one she had totally forgotten until now. Like it had just been set free in her head.
She had seen that gem before, it had been one of those gems in the forbidden room, the room Eli had said belonged to his brother.
He had said--- he--- ah--- her head!
It was throbbing.
Like someone was pounding something in it.
She raced out of the Piano room and grabbed the bundle of keys on the table.
Without thinking, she went out of the room and ran straight up the stairs. She was about to get to the gem's room when the line of doors behind her caught her attention.
She squinted, turning her focus away from what she had earlier brought her here.
Those doors.
She had dreamt of something like that and--- wait!
Clio had said they stayed here.
Wait, Clio was a maid.
The three bubbly ladies were maids.
THEY WERE MAIDS!
Maids didn't stay on a floor above the King's, from what she had learnt recently, they had their own floor and it was nowhere near the King's chambers.
Why had she never thought of that?
Something was off.
Really off.
Belladonna turned away, going in the direction of the room she remembered Clio claiming to be hers and the other ladies.
Sucking in a shaky breath, she knocked.
Her heart drummed, as she waited for a response.
There was no response and a knot tightened in her stomach as she reached for her key, hoping with all her heart that it wouldn't work, so her suspicions could just die.
Why would the King have the key to a maid's room and carry it everywhere with him?
Why would he---
Clicked.
It worked?
She dragged in a ragged breath and pressed down the doorknob, not knowing what to expect from the other side.
Shock stilled her to her feet, goosebumps raising on her skin as fear settled in the pit of her stomach.
Coffins.
Too many coffins.
They were stacked against the length of the walls, like hung frames at the four corners of the room, and numbered one after another.
Her gaze zeroed in on the last coffin and her heart raced when she read what was engraved on brown mahogany.
"Moria Nakunriver.
Village of Nakunriver.
199."
"Donna?" A voice startled her from behind.
The voice she had been waiting for the entire night.