Story Spirits Novels & Stories

“His image,” Vera finally said. “And his vices.” Now they were getting somewhere. Isaac tilted his head, keeping his voice light and breezy as he murmured, “Vices? What kind of vices?” Vera glanced toward the palace, as if worried they might be overheard. “He pretends to be so proper, so traditional,” she said, lowering her voice. “But there’s this Lycan liquor he loves—Blue Moon Spirit. It was banned from export to the Werewolf kingdom during the trade disputes a few years ago.”

Rancel ordered their drinks with confidence, while Meagia looked around in awe, taking in the sights and sounds of the bar. Meagia’s sobbing had died down and she glanced around only to see the row of bottles, adorned with golden labels and topped with glistening stoppers, lined the back of the bar. The bottles stood tall and proud, casting a rich and alluring display which could only be afforded by the elites. The assortment of spirits ranged from amber-hued whiskeys to crystal-clear gins, promising a world of flavours and delights.