3: the thief in the cloak

Ryo POV

“Hey.” I raised my hand to catch the bartender’s attention, and it worked. He walked over.

“Give me something strong,” I said, before he could ask.

He turned without a word and came back a moment later, setting the cup down in front of me. I gave him a nod of thanks.

Just one sip and I felt whole again. I’d been on this journey for a while now, and finding a place like this quiet, anonymous, far from anyone who knew my name felt like the closest thing to relief I’d had in days.

I was halfway through my drink when a woman walked in, and the whole room shifted around her. She had the kind of dress that didn’t belong here, hair slightly windswept and undone, like she’d ridden hard to get to this town. For some reason, she had me sitting up a little straighter too.

The regulars weren’t used to women walking in especially not one with a sword strapped to her hip. She strode past the stares like she didn’t notice them, heading straight for the bar like she had every right to be there.

Slowly, the room went back to its business.

She climbed onto one of the high stools across from a different bartender than the one who’d served me older, heavyset, somewhere in his fifties, with a shock of white hair and a beard to match.

“What do you want?” he asked, voice like gravel.

“What do you recommend?” she asked.

I went back to my drink. But something about her voice kept pulling my attention back.

“I don’t know,” the bartender hesitated. “You’re a lady. We’ve got a lot of strong”

I found myself sitting fully upright now, listening.

“Just get me a glass of milk,” she said. “Actually, make that two. One for me, one for Blaze.”

“What?” Even the bartender sounded done with her.

“Oh, Blaze is with me.” I glanced around the tavern, half-expecting to see who she meant.

“Oh, no of course you don’t think I have an imaginary friend. Nobody does that anymore.” She gave the bartender a sheepish smile. “Well. Maybe I used to, as a child. But not anymore.”

I laughed before I could stop myself.

It was already too late. She turned, and from the look on her face, she’d only just noticed I was there.

“Something funny, mister?”

The look she gave me made it very clear I’d just inserted myself into a business that wasn’t mine.

She turned back to the bartender. “Sorry about that. Blaze is my horse. He's tied to the tree outside. He’ll take a glass of milk too, though it’d probably be easier in a bowl. You know, for the “ she gestured vaguely, “ shape of things.”

Both men went quiet. I kept my head down, fighting the urge to keep staring at the strange, fascinating creature two stools down.

“Of course I have money to pay,” she added when no one answered. “How much does it even cost?”

“We don’t sell milk here, miss. This is a tavern. Not a daycare.”

“Oh. I see.” She sounded genuinely embarrassed. “But why not, though?”

“Miss, I can’t answer that.”

“That’s surprising, and frankly a little discriminatory. Everyone’s choices should be accommodated”

She kept going, getting more interesting by the sentence. I finally lifted my head fully to look at her.

“Yeah, whatever,” the bartender muttered, tossing his towel over his shoulder and walking off.

I didn’t know I was laughing again until it was already out of me. It was a good sound I hadn’t laughed like that in longer than I wanted to admit.

“Okay, mister, the joke’s over.” She was clearly annoyed now.

She studied me for a moment while I tried to look unbothered, reaching for my glass. The hood of my cloak still shadowed most of my face, but she kept staring anyway, like she recognized something in me she couldn’t place.

“Miss, are you alright?” the bartender asked.

“Yes yes, of course. I’m just perfect.”

“You look perfect to me,” I said, before I could think better of it, and then immediately stood and walked off toward the door before she could respond.

I’d already stayed longer than I meant to. I finished my drink, dropped a few coins on the counter, and headed out. I could feel her watching me the whole way.

*****

She was outside before I was, already mounted on her horse. I’d barely stepped through the door when I felt the cold edge of a blade against my chest.

In the dark, I could only make out the shape of her face.

“I thought you were just crazy,” I said, my voice dropping into the low, deliberate register I used when I wanted to unsettle someone. “Seems we should add *thief* to the list. Terrible qualities for a lady.”

“Wait what? Thief? *Me?* How dare you”

While she was still sputtering, I drew my own sword and leveled it at her. I wasn’t in the habit of pointing a blade at a woman but something about this one made me want to see what she’d do next.

“I think this is about to be a fair fight.”

She raised a hand, sword still steady in the other. “Okay. Easy. No need for bloodshed.”

I chuckled.

“I just need my gem back. The one you stole from me.”

“What gem?” I asked, genuinely thrown. As far as I knew, I’d never laid eyes on this woman before tonight.

“Don’t pretend. The heart-shaped one. The one you’re wearing right now.”

I studied her for a long moment. “You’re not serious.”

“I don’t know, yes!” she shouted.

“Whoa, okay. Easy.” I kept my voice calm. “I didn’t take this from you.”

“Exactly you didn’t take it *from* me.” She jabbed a finger into my chest, again and again. “You *stole* it. You’re the real thief here.”

“Ow okay.” I caught her hand mid-jab. “You don’t have delicate lady fingers. That actually hurt.”

We stood like that a beat too long before she yanked her hand free. I almost laughed again.

“I might be losing my mind,” she muttered, “but I cannot believe I’m negotiating with a thief.”

“Don’t call me that.”

“It was fine when you called me, that.”

I shrugged, unbothered.

“Mister, I have a long journey ahead of me, and this gem means everything to me. My father gave it to me. I can’t lose it. So please give it back, and I won’t…”

“I didn’t take it from you,” I said. “And for the record it means a great deal to me too.” I paused. “I got it yesterday. That’s the truth.”

“I lost it on my way into town. Some good-for-nothing scallywags cornered me and took it. They were shabby. Disgusting. Smelled like”

I cleared my throat, mock-wounded. “Do I, in any way, fit that description?”

“Ye….” She stopped, looked me over properly for the first time, studying my face with an intensity that made my pulse pick up more than I expected.

Then she stepped closer, leaned in, and pressed her nose to the side of my neck. Inhaled.

“Okay. This is incredibly uncomfortable,” I muttered.

“No,” she said quietly. “Not… exactly.”

“Right.” I stepped past her and started toward the tree line.

She followed immediately. “I swear it’s mine.”

“I got it from some fine well, not exactly fine gentlemen. Good-for-nothing scallywags, as it happens. Thoroughly obnoxious ones.”

“So you understand my point, then.”

“I’m sorry, love. I can’t give it back. I paid a great deal of money for it.”

“I could pay you back.” She dug into a pouch at her hip and pulled out a few silver coins.

“I paid more than that. A bag of gold.”

“No.”

“Yes. That’s what it cost. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I really must be on my way.”

She drew her sword and laid the flat of it against my shoulder. “I’ll fight you for it.”

I smiled, not bothering to turn around. “I don’t fight women.”

“I’m not just any woman.”

“That much was obvious from the start.”

“Damn you.” She swung.

I didn’t strike back, only deflected, blade meeting blade just enough to turn her away. “I’d advise you to stop.”

“I’d advise you to give me my gem.”

I thought fast, trying to find a way out of this without hurting the strange, stubborn creature in front of me. The fight lasted only a few minutes before I pulled my cloak free and threw it over her, blinding her for just long enough.

I pushed her back, gentle but firm, and by the time she’d torn the fabric from her face

I was already gone.

“What the hell?”