Six of Ruin (Heirs of Irenwell #1)
Chapter 40: Thirty Silver Coins

The town of Dahn was something else. At first glance, it was nothing but a small, secluded town, hidden behind the largest wall I’ve ever seen. Stone houses circled the small square in the middle. The fire burned in the middle and a couple of people danced around it. It had no imposing buildings, no castles and no marvellous pieces of architecture.

Yet, everyone lived here. Spirits, humans, florans, giants. Everyone lived in peace, everyone contributed in a way. They had a deal with the rest of the Spirit territory for this precise reason. Everyone could live here, no matter the race or species. If you were allowed in, no one could touch you. Therefore, once we stepped inside, the residents treated us like we’ve been here for ages.

Guilt turned my stomach upside down. The gatekeeper did not truly let us in, I made him do it.

I downed the strong, fruity drink, letting liquor burn my insides. Dim, scarce firelight flickered around me, gently illuminating the wooden tavern. Out of tune flutes pierced the air, and I ascribed the slight headache in my temples to the unpitched sound, despite knowing it was in fact the residue from the magic use.

Ace put his dirty, bare feet on the bar and wiggled his toenails. His bloody robe fell off his leg, revealing a thick layer of healing salve covering the badly sown wound. He refused the healer’s help, which I deemed insane, and insisted on fixing his leg by himself. The mage chugged his third flagon of ale and burped unapologetically.

“You look like a homeless person.” I commented, glancing over his dirty, grey hair.

Ace spun his finger, ordering another flagon, “I haven’t had a shower in two months.”

Disgust gripped my face, “We did not need to know that.”

“We can smell it.” Nickeltinker hopped on the stool next to me. “Healers took care of Danilo. Torvald is resting.”

“Good.” I nodded. “Goddess knows we can’t stay here for long.”

“We have until morning.” Nick mumbled. “Soterios might catch up with us otherwise.”

My head fell down, exhaustion washing over me, “When is this going to be over? I swear I can’t deal anymore.”

“So, I’ve been snooping around.” Rixen appeared between Nick and me, grabbed a stool and sat. “Something’s going on in the real world.”

“In the real world?” Nickeltinker chuckled. “Are we so detached?”

“Yes.” Ace and Rixen said at the same time.

I sighed, “What’s going on in the real world?”

“Bastia is a mess.” Rixen said. “Bastians are scared out of their wits. They think cultists are going to kill them all. King Bernard isn’t helping, he’s propagating this idea.”

Nickeltinker leaned against his elbows, “I’m never getting paid.”

“Wait, aren’t cultists following us?” I frowned.

“There hasn’t been an attack on Bastia since we left Balr.” Rixen looked at me, the dim firelight reflecting off his golden irises. “But at this point, it doesn’t matter. King Bernard said publicly it’s impossible to tell who’s a cultist and who isn’t.”

My heart skipped a beat, “People don’t trust each other.”

“Not one bit.” Rixen called the bartender. “They began suspecting their neighbours, friends, even family.”

“Why would King Bernard want this?” I asked.

I’ve never been truly interested in politics. Whenever my father brought me to one of his meetings, I spent all my time staring at the handsome army generals. Now, sitting in a tavern in the middle of nowhere, I regretted not paying attention.

“Gives him more power.” Rixen sipped his ale. “People are too busy fighting amongst each other to pay attention to what he’s doing.”

“And what is he doing?” My voice turned to a whisper.

“They don’t know.” Rixen swallowed a gulp of ale. “Probably nothing good. Irenwell isn’t in the best shape either.”

Having been so far away from home made me forget that Irenwell wasn’t in the best shape when I left. I bit my lower lip, feeling guilty. Goddess knew Rodrig was too inexperienced to handle ruling and I left him alone. Not that I would’ve been much help.

“What’s going on?” I whispered.

“Some are afraid of King Bernard.” Rixen said. “They think he’s going to invade. It has no real foundation in reality, though, but a certain frenzy is ruling the continent. Nobody knows what’s going on and everyone is panicking.”

“Lords of Inse and Iqua are probably eyeing the throne.” I scoffed. “We’re going to return to ruined kingdoms.”

“If we return.” Nick mumbled. “And I’m beginning to think the chances of that are slim.”

My head snapped at Ace, “Care to share your thoughts, oh, great wizard?”

The mage looked at us with disinterest, “Your attempts at controlling your life are futile, your decisions ultimately insignificant and if you died right now, nothing much would change.”

Rixen arched his eyebrow, “What’s up with him?”

“He’s depressed.” Nick said.

“He’s drunk.” I corrected and glanced at Nick. “Why aren’t you drinking anything?”

Nick’s head dropped on the bar, hitting the smooth wood, “I don’t have enough coins. Why is this town so damn expensive? It’s in the middle of nowhere!”

“They’re taxing us for keeping the spirits out.” Rixen said. “The room in the Inn cost a fortune.”

Remembering I now carried most of my belongings in a satchel, I fished out a bunch of silver coins, spilled them over the bar and called for the human bartender. The tall, strong man, whose gentle eyes widened upon seeing the coins, now paid all of his attention to us.

“How much can we drink for this?” I asked.

“Uh... a lot.” The bartender murmured and counted thirty silver coins.

“Get us everything these coins can buy. And ask the rest what they want to drink.” I said.

The bartender grinned, nodded and rushed to pour himself a drink.

Ace saluted, waking up from his coma, “Let’s get mind-numbingly drunk!”

Rixen let out a laugh, “You might still need the silver.”

“I need it right now.” I countered. “To forget for a moment everything is falling apart around us.”

“Cheers!” Nickeltinker slapped the wooden bar as the bartender put flagons of ale in front of us. The green-skinned boy immediately chugged half of the flagon.

Once the rest of the tavern realised who was buying their drinks, they cheered and saluted us. Many of them came to thank us and talk to us, realising who we were. At least the rest of the continent would have something to gossip about tomorrow.

A couple of floran girls hopped over and shook our hands. Nickeltinker immediately fixed his green hair.

“News came from Balr that you spent your entire time there drinking.” One of them, a gorgeous green-skinned girl with doll-like eyes, said.

The other one whispered in her friend’s ear, “That’s why they call them The Idle Six.”

Rixen leaned towards me, a smile dancing on his lips, “I thought we were keeping a low profile.”

“All of our enemies are already after us.” I shrugged.

“We heard you have a dragon in your group!” The floran girl said.

I let out a laugh, “Sorry, girls, no dragon. But we do have a high-maintenance mage.” I glanced at Ace, who rocked on his stool and spilled ale all over himself.

“And we’d gladly trade him for a dragon.” Nick added.

The green-skinned boy ended up chatting with the floran girls, until he eventually took both of them back to his Inn room. Ace dozed off on the stool, his grey hair spilling all over the bar, ending in a puddle of ale. The crowd continued drinking and stopped paying attention to us. The world around me blurred, the liquor lulled me into comfortable numbness.

In a tavern full of people, Rixen and I were once again alone.

“How are we ever going to return?” I asked, without real purpose or goal. Describing how I truly felt turned difficult, especially after so many cups.

“What do you mean?” The shadowman glanced at me.

“Aren’t there some experiences so strange that they disable you from belonging anywhere?”

“Scared you’re not going to fit in once you return to Irenwell?” Rixen sipped his drink.

“Something like that.” I let out a sigh.

Rixen shifted on his stool, shifting along the air between us, “What happens when you’re back in Irenwell?”

Fear shot through me, fear of this conversation, “We don’t even know whether we’re going to return.”

“You’re avoiding.” Rixen smiled, but it did not reach his eyes.

I strung him along. Of course, I did. But selfishly, cowardly, I was afraid to admit it, or even ask myself why I did it.

“I’m scared.” I said instead, realising fear was easier to communicate.

The shadowman sighed, “After running away from an angry army of spirits, we’re capable of facing our fears.”

As always, he was right. But I wasn’t merely afraid of having this conversation, I was afraid of breaking the spell we were both under. The spell that allowed us to hope we could actually be together. But he was right, I owed him the truth, no matter how uncomfortable or painful.

“I’m still a princess.” I barely uttered the words. “I still have responsibilities waiting for me once I return.”

Rixen stared ahead, his throat bobbing, “What if you don’t return?”

Warmth flooded my chest, equally soothing and painful at the same time. I grabbed the cup to keep my fingers from shaking.

“Before this journey, I didn’t care much about any of it.” I admitted, the truth bubbling in my throat. “I knew Rodrig would marry me off and I only hoped it wouldn’t be to some fat, old lord. Then came Danilo and I thought my dreams came true.”

Rixen sighed, “They still can.”

“No, they can’t.” I shook my head. “Not when they go against this crushing responsibility. The ironic part is that I’ve never really opposed to Rodrig marrying me off, not until now. But now I understand the necessity of it.”

Rixen’s eyes closed and he took in a deep breath, “Kingdom of Irenwell might need it. Rodrig is too inexperienced and if you married someone powerful, he could help Irenwell.”

“Exactly.” I said. “Which means I have to play this game of politics and my hand in marriage is a strong card.”

“I won’t ask you to choose between your Kingdom and me.” Rixen took a large gulp of ale and chuckled, “I have so much useless royal blood in my veins, but I’m still just a low-life bastard.”

I dared to look at him, getting caught in the way light reflected in his golden eyes, “You’ve never told me about the Orathian part of your ancestry.”

“My mother’s father was the last Orathian king’s brother.” Rixen said. “My mother was an illegitimate child, as well. That’s the closest shadowmen get to a throne, as bastards, slaves and concubines.” His eyes fell on me, “And I’m sorry, Princess, but I will not be your concubine.”

I let out a laugh, trying to dim the seriousness, “Are you sure? You could be my lover.”

Rixen didn’t replace it funny, “I will not repeat my ancestors’ history. So, no, I will not be your lover.”

Unexpected pain burst through my heart, caused not only by Rixen’s refusal, but also by the realisation I would truly ask something like that. It’s always been that way with me; I required everything, I wanted to have my cake and eat it too.

With shaky, scattered breath, I spoke, “You’re not in love with me, Rixen. You’re in love with the version of me you’ve met here, without the wandering eyes, without responsibilities, but that’s not me. I’m way worse in real life. And you cannot be in love with someone you don’t know.”

Rixen’s gaze quickly landed on me, “That’s not true.”

My heart fluttered.

The shadowman grinned, “I do know you. I know you’ve slept with half of Irenwell.”

I scoffed, “I did not!”

“And I know the only reason you came here was because you wanted to get rid of your magic.” Rixen continued. “You didn’t do it because you wanted to save the world, but because you’re selfish.”

My gaze fell to the wooden cup in front of me, “That’s somewhat changed now.”

“I also know you almost left Ace outside because he wanted to leave Danilo behind.” Rixen cocked his head towards the sleeping mage. “I know you sent your silver bracelet to Shira because Nick said his family didn’t have enough money. And I know you spent two months with us on this journey, and despite bitching about everything every step of the way, you’ve never made us feel like we were lesser than you.”

Pain gathered in my throat, threatening to spill out in the form of tears.

“I’ve known you before I even met you.” Rixen let out a breath. “So, trust me, I wish I was lying to myself, I wish I was in denial, and I wish everything I felt for you was just a whim, but it’s not.”

The fluttering in my stomach turned unbearable. There were so many things I wanted to say. I wanted to tell him I’ve never felt anything like this, I’ve never even thought feeling this way was possible for me, but it wouldn’t help. This story was already doomed enough; inflicting more pain to the dying body would be cruel.

Rixen swallowed the rest of his liquor and stood up, “I’ll only ask you once, Irina, and I’ll never mention it again.”

I knew what he’d say before he opened his mouth.

“Will you stay with me?” His golden eyes dimmed, his lips relaxed, like he dropped every possible pretence, uncovering rawness and vulnerability. “Please, stay with me. We’ll live here. Spirits will forgive us. I can build a house, I can work, I’ll do whatever it takes. Just... just stay with me.”

I had to keep him out of my head on purpose, not because of me, but because of him. If he saw into my heart, he would never walk away.

Tears blurred my vision, “I- I can’t.”

Rixen’s eyes turned glossy, “I understand. I’ll never ask again.”

The word never reverberated through my mind as he walked away, leaving me alone with a drunken mage. I let out a shaky breath, replaceing hatred towards my title in my heart. For the first time in my life, I regretted being born as a princess.