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The city of Lysereth didn't slow down—not even for the newly cursed.
By midday, my feet ached, my stomach grumbled, and the sensory overload of this new world was starting to fry my brain. Magic was baked into everything. Floating carts. Singing bread. A rat in a waistcoat tried to sell me a map at one point. I hadn't even decided whether I was hallucinating or just becoming part of the insanity.
I ducked into a narrow street, hoping for a break. That's when I saw the tavern.
The Winking Basilisk.
Fitting name. It looked like the kind of place where good decisions went to die.
I stepped inside and was instantly hit by the scent of spiced ale, roasted meat, and bad intentions. Lanterns swung low, giving the room a golden haze. Laughter rolled through the place, a dozen conversations bleeding together in a constant, drunken hum.
I was just scanning the room when my breath caught.
She was here.
Red silk. Black hair. Dangerous curves and a smirk that could probably be weaponized.
She was leaning against the bar like she owned it, one leg bent, dagger still strapped to her thigh like it belonged there more than her clothes did.
The girl who tackled me, teased me, and vanished—after I accidentally groped her."
I stepped closer, heart thudding.
She looked directly at me.
And then looked away.
Like I didn't exist.
I blinked. No recognition. No spark. She turned back to her drink, smiling lazily at the bartender.
…What?
I stood there, awkward and unsure, before forcing myself to the bar a few stools down.
She still didn't acknowledge me.
The bartender walked over, eyeing me like I'd just tracked mud into his soul. "You drinking or standing like a statue all day?"
"Uh… something light."
He grunted, slammed down a chipped mug, and moved off.
I risked a glance her way again. She was sipping her drink, humming to herself.
I leaned a little closer. "You know, the last time we met, you nearly collapsed a fruit stand with my body."
She paused—just for a beat.
Then looked over with a slow blink.
"I think you've got the wrong girl, handsome."
A playful smile, innocent as sin.
" Remember me?," I said, voice low. "You literally landed on my face."
Someone at the next table choked on their drink.
She tilted her head. "Huh. Sounds like a lucky guy. But again, not me."
And just like that, she downed the last of her drink, flipped a coin onto the counter, and sauntered toward the exit.
I didn't hesitate. I followed.
She slipped through the tavern door like mist.
Outside, the sun had just started to dip behind the rooftops, casting the streets in warm gold and long shadows. I caught up just as she turned down an alley.
"Hey—wait!"
She didn't.
So I did what any sane man with a curse and too many questions would do—I chased her.
She led me through winding streets, faster than someone who just had three drinks had any right to be. It wasn't quite running… but it wasn't casual either.
And then she stopped—dead in her tracks.
I skidded to a halt behind her, about to ask something when she spun and slammed me against the wall.
My breath caught. She smelled like leather and cinnamon.
"Shhh," she hissed, pressing a finger to my lips.
Heavy footsteps echoed nearby. A pair of city guards jogged past the alley entrance, spears gleaming.
She didn't move. Just pressed herself against me, chest to chest, eyes locked on mine.
My heart pounded.
Her body was soft against mine, yet her expression was razor sharp. "Don't breathe too loud," she whispered. "They're hunting something."
"Let me guess," I whispered back. "You?"
She didn't answer.
The guards moved past.
She waited a moment longer, then slowly backed up, her body dragging against mine as she moved.
"Coast's clear," she murmured.
I tried to get a grip on my breathing. "So… you do remember me."
She smirked again and walked off.
I followed.
"Seriously," I said, matching her pace as we ducked into another alley, deeper into the city's underbelly. "You're going to pretend that entire crash-tackle-grab-ass moment didn't happen?"
"Wasn't pretending," she said casually. "I just enjoy messing with people who look too serious. You were practically vibrating with confusion back there."
"I was vibrating because my system—" I stopped myself.
She quirked an eyebrow. "Your what?"
"Nothing. Just… look, I'm new here."
"Obviously."
We crossed another street, into a section where the houses got smaller and more packed together. Laundry lines stretched overhead. The smell of stew and chimney smoke filled the air.
"Where are we going?" I asked.
"My place."
I froze. "Your…?"
She looked over her shoulder, amused. "What? Nervous?"
"No, I just—"
"You followed a strange girl through back alleys. Might as well commit."
"…Point taken."
We turned down one last stairwell behind a shuttered bakery. She knocked twice, then three times, and the wooden door creaked open. No one was behind it.
She stepped inside.
I hesitated.
She popped her head back out. "Well?"
I followed her in.
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