The inn never truly returned to normal after the attack.
Even though the unconscious attacker had been dragged away and the frightened patrons had slowly resumed their conversations, the atmosphere remained tense. Every laugh sounded forced. Every movement carried a trace of unease.
While some left immediately the fight was over.
Aurelia felt it pressing against her skin like invisible weight.
She sat at the small wooden table beside Malion, trying to steady her breathing while pretending to focus on the grain of the wood beneath her fingers. Her cloak was still slightly wrinkled from where the attacker had grabbed her earlier, and the memory of it made her stomach twist.
Across from her, Malion sat in silence.
His posture was relaxed in appearance only.
Aurelia could see the subtle alertness in the way his shoulders remained slightly stiff and the way his gaze never stayed in one place for long.
He was watching everything.
The door.
The windows.
The shadows.
