Crow's eyes shot wide open, as a cornered animal's would. There were two things that he knew the Empire hated - undead and shadow mages. And he was both. He thought of running and escaping through the kitchen door.

But it was too late. They started entering the main hall, one by one, perfectly orderly. It would raise too much suspicion now…

Oh, how terrifying they were! Tall, unnaturally tall, with none of them standing below six feet, not even the women. And coldly beautiful, in a way that left you wondering if they were even human at all. High cheekbones, perfectly arched brows, eyes shining brightly, flowing hair with no tangles at all and the glimmer of pristinely white, sharp fangs when they opened their mouths. The only other time when Crow saw such beauty was when he gazed at sculptures of the gods.

The last came in their Commander. Crow could tell immediately who he was from his gilded armor and the rubies etched into his breastplate.

He too, like his soldiers, was beautiful.

It hit him in a completely different way, though.

If the other imperials were like ice shards, piercing and deadly, then that man was like glimmering embers among them all. Making the presence of the others somewhat bearable. Warm, inviting. Ready to stoke a fire within Crow.

“You mean to say that he's hot.” - His shadow always knew how to speak up at the least appropriate time.

He let out a pitiful little squeal completely against himself and pulled up his hood high so that it would completely obscure what little of his face wasn't already hidden by the scarf.

“Don't panic. I've got this under control.” - Arnath whispered to him supportingly

Crow wanted to scream “I don't have anything under control!” but in a surprising feat of restraint and wisdom, decided against it, instead nodding shakily and slumping in his chair.

“Commander Thanred!” - Arnath stood up and gave the man a courteous bow. - “What a pleasure it is to host you! And you're right on time, as always.”

“I wouldn't dare keep Khaede waiting, my friend. That, and His Radiance expects me to keep to my schedule.” - He chuckled lightly. His voice was soft and gentle. Why on all the gods above and the demons below did it have to be soft and gentle?! - “Tedrick, a meal and a mug of ale for my men, please. I hope there's something decent on the menu tonight? Our stomachs are rumbling.”

“Venison steaks served with a side of radish and sour cream. The radish is freshly gathered from my garden, you came just in time for it to be ripe. If you'd like potatoes with it though, I'm afraid they'll have to be ones from last year. This year's won't be ready for harvest until June, you see.”

“Damnable animals!” - One of Thanred's men yelled. - “Already trying to hide their best crops from us!”

The Commander let out a weary sigh of someone who was incredibly tired with their job.

“No. Potatoes are indeed not really a spring crop, Ilsur. Now, since you're so eager to speak out of line, you can learn patience by guarding the entrance to the inn as the rest of us eat and drink.” - He said flatly, pointing to the door. - “Don't make me wait.”

The soldier grumbled something under his breath, but did go outside obediently.

“Recruits…” - Thanred threw Arnath an apologetic little smile.

“Oh, don't worry about it at all, Commander. I hope you enjoy your meal.”

“At ease, soldiers.” - He commanded, and the troop started sitting down. When all the tables were filled, some of the local patrons stood up to make room for those of the imperials who didn't have a seat yet. None of them left though, instead crowding by the bar and on the windowsills. It wasn't very wise to act like you're in a hurry to leave the presence of the imperial overlords, just as Crow's intuition told him earlier. The atmosphere was dense and uncomfortable. The people of Khaede were just as nervous as the soldiers were hungry, and minutes felt like they were dragging on for hours. Lirius Thanred seemed to feel on edge as well, as he tapped his foot rhythmically under his table.

“No entertainment tonight, Tedrick? What happened? It's a Fortuneday, you should have a bard on the stage.”

“Well…” - Tedrick rubbed the back of his neck nervously. It was a tough decision. Should he let Thanred's men grow restless? The deer would take Yvor a while to prepare, and they seemed frustrated from the moment they walked into the inn, in a fashion that was worryingly not usual for them. On the other hand, should he risk putting Crow on stage? The weird, unsociable and a little bit unsettling Crow? - “We had one, but we chased him off the stage. He was quite terrible.” - He lied, hoping that it'll cut the subject short.

That, of course, since Crow was very insistent on protecting his dignity lately, and since he didn't want to be slandered in front of that handsome man, backfired terribly.

“NO, I WAS NOT, YOU OLD GREEDY FART! I'VE BEEN BRINGING YOU ADDITIONAL PATRONS AND REVENUE FOR WEEKS NOW, AND YOU DARE CALL ME “TERRIBLE”?! - He yelled at the top of his lungs, suddenly forgetting about all of his stress.

“Oh-ho-ho, it seems like you got him angry.” - Thanred said to the innkeeper with a grin. - “How about you let my men be the judges of his skill? We Eternals do have a higher understanding of the arts than your kind does, after all. Maybe you simply don't get this poor tortured performer.”

“O-of course, Commander.” - A bit of sweat shone on Tedrick's forehead. He knew that his lie would become apparent in a moment, but he was in no position to decline Thanred hearing Crow's performance now that he directly asked for it. - “Crow, boy, get your sorry ass on the stage.”

And Crow did, once again exercising immense self-control and not yelling that his ass was, actually, quite amazing, especially in comparison to other dead people.

He wondered, for a brief moment, what to play. He wanted it to be amazing, just to spite his terrible boss. And then, he looked Lirius Thanred in the eye. He was waiting, his pretty face tilted to the side with curiosity. Lirius. Lir. Unlike the last time he thought about him, he now hoped dearly that they knew each other before.

And then, as if on cue, his fingers and his lips moved on their own. The tune he played was sad, but sharp too. Filled with melancholy and an underlying hint of anger. He never heard it before, not in his un-life, but he knew it was his.

And so were the words.

In the last few weeks, he managed to make the tavern silent, yes. But never so silent that you could hear the crickets from outside. Thanred's men looked between each other and then to their Commander nervously. His face was contorted in an ugly, angry scowl. He stood up from his seat so abruptly that his chair fell back to the floor, and stormed towards the stage. Then, he grabbed Crow by the back of his blouse and started pushing him towards the exit door.

“DO YOU THINK YOU'RE FUNNY?! I'LL FUCKING SHOW YOU REAL FUNNY OUTSIDE!” - He screamed at him, and Crow suddenly wished that he never got that lute.