Chapter 1:
Areida sat on the flat rock, gazing at the town below her. There was something peaceful in the way the village did their daily chores. The wind ruffled her loose black hair, which was usually tied up in a neat bun. But today she would make an exception.
Today was Queen Ella's birthday ball. She was invited, and couldn't wait to attend. Dreams of whirling around the marble dance floor was all that was on her mind at that moment. Smiling, and laughing, and dancing with—well, that was a whole other matter.
She petted her sleeping little white terrier. Snowball was given to her two years ago by her mother. Her…late mother. Everytime Areida thought of her mother, tears would fill her eyes. She was her namesake, and only daughter, and they were very close. Her father died a few years before that. Now the only people still left in the family was Jacob, and Areida, who did their best to run the Inn by themselves.
"Areida!" said Jacob from the Inn behind her, " we have visitors!"
Areida scrambled up from her spot. "Come, Snowball," she said, and picked up the dog, who promptly woke up and started whining.
She jogged back to the Inn, and washed her hands, quickly putting on her apron. Two customers were in front of the counter, both in brown traveling cloaks, and hoods that covered most of their face. She frowned, wondering what the men had to hide.
"How may I help you, sirs?" Areida said in a polite tone.
"Ale and soup," the man on the right said, "and make it quick." His voice was strangely deep and scratchy.
Ale and soup, Areida thought, yes, how so very descriptive. She was annoyed at the fact that the man didn't tell her what kind of ale and soup they wanted, but she learned from experience that men like those don't like being questioned. She assumed it was brown ale they wanted, and poured the liquid from the tap into two quarts. She guessed it was chicken soup they wanted, and put that into two wooden bowls.
She put the two bowls of soup and the ale on a tray, and slowly put it in front of the men. "Anything else?" she asked.
The same man picked up his quart, and sniffed, wrinkling his nose. "Brown ale?How common!" he complained in his dreadful voice, "We want some Spring Ale, the kind that this Inn supposedly makes very well."
Now was I supposed to know they wanted some of that? Areida thought, taking back the two quarts, and dumping the ale back into the tap. She hesitated for a moment before pouring the Spring ale into the cups. Spring Ale was very hard to make, requiring at least 3 months in the celler to ferment and make exactly the right taste. It was expensive, no doubt. Hopefully the two men would have enough KCs to pay for it.
"Here, sir," Areida said when she was finished.
The man nodded, and Areida went to go lament to her brother.
"Annoying customers, aren't they?"Areida said to Jacob.
Jacob scoffed. "Don't worry, Areida, they're just customers," he said, "there's always a bad one in the crop."
Areida shrugged. "Yes, I suppose," she said, but there was still something that disturbed her about the two men.