Edite’s mercy was generous. Her sleep was dreamless, deep, and lasting well into midmorning. But she left something behind. A shadow clinging to my soul that no rest could shake.

My body felt light. Energized. But my mind dragged like it had stones tied to it.

What the hell had come over me?

I’d let a man have his way with me. And it was for a trinket. No, not just that. For the way he treated me. For the marks he left behind. And gods, there were plenty. My body was a battlefield. And I’d given as good as I got.

Travin had been relentless in pursuit of pleasure, both his and mine. He demanded it like it was owed. And I… gave it freely. Not just willingly. Eagerly. And what I didn’t give, the bastard just took anyway.

The bracelet sat on my nightstand, soaking in a cup of water, just like the book had instructed. I didn’t know when it had last been recharged, and I wanted my most valuable possession to last. Of course I did.

Because it was mine.

I avoided my mother and Clara like the plague because I wasn’t exactly prepared for family eye contact. I made my way back to the inn when it was time to start my shift.

It was Tresdin. Kaeso’s night. I prayed, sincerely, to every listening god that Travin wasn’t at The Wayward Widow.

But this was Porto Croce. Nothing stayed simple for long.

A ship had been sighted off the southern coast, still a day out, and already the town was losing its mind. Cypress was beside himself. He was busy snapping at the delivery men, shouting about stew, and demanding kegs. Even ordered a whole goat for the pot.

A goat. For stew. I didn’t ask.

I was back in my scarlet dress and hit the floor running, tray in hand, smile fixed. The crowd was bigger than usual. Word of a ship always packed the place, which was good. I needed to stay busy. I needed the noise, the chaos, the excuse not to think.

Elise tracked me as I worked, her expression unreadable. I couldn’t tell if she was pissed or proud.

And of course, because fuck the Gods and my life, Travin was there too.

His eyes locked onto mine the moment I entered, and I swear my heart tried to climb out of my chest and run for the docks.

This was supposed to be over.

A simple night. A transaction. A little play for the gods and a gift to myself.

But nothing in my life was ever simple. He’d touched a part of me I didn’t even know existed. And worse, I wanted more.

His gaze pinned me like a deer in a clearing, and I felt every inch of my body tighten under it.

I made my rounds before finally stopping in front of his table.

“Well,” he said, that smug grin already forming. “If it isn’t the lovely Jolana.”

“And the dashing Travin,” I replied, sliding a mug onto the table and giving him my best, pissed off look. “I had to use a fucking healing potion last night.”

“Too bad.” He raised a brow. “I rather think that bruises suit you.”

I forced a casual tone. “I… never did anything like that before.”

“You’ve done some of it,” he said, lifting the mug in mock toast. “Just not at my level.”

“What the Hell’s inside you?” I asked quietly.

His expression darkened at the question. The charmer's mask slipped a bit, showing me a bit of what I saw last night. “Nothing that’s not in the heart of every man.” He said with gritted teeth.

“You weren’t my first.” I glared at him. “You’re not like every man.”

“I would hope not,” he smiled again, taking a sip. “You were praying to gods that didn’t even exist last night, and you fucking loved it.”

“You’re a bastard.”

“And you were an expensive fuck, I had to get my money’s worth.”

My mind went back to the passage in my father’s book, The Dewstone Bracelet, and its value.

“So if you just took me up there for five gold pieces, you would have gone easy on me?”

“I did go easy on you.” He sneered. “Your ass is still intact.”

“That bracelet’s worth more than a night with me.”

He shrugged. “That was my impulsive nature getting the best of me. But no, I think a night with you was worth more than that.”

“Thank you for the lovely gift.” I kept my tone cold as I met his gaze.

“Well earned,” he said, taking a drink. “And I know you’ll enjoy it.”

My smile faltered. “It’s the only thing in this world that’s mine.”

And just like that, I spun on my heel and left, not waiting for his reply.

I worked the floor, dropping off drinks, dodging Cypress, as usual, and trying not to look at Travin. Of course, I did. And he was still watching me. Then he wasn’t. His gaze drifted like none of this mattered, like he hadn’t bent me over a bed and torn me apart.

Did he even think about it? He shredded my body and soul, and I was fucking nothing to him.

Elise stayed busy, earning her coin with a few regulars and a new face or two. Which meant I was alone with my spiraling thoughts and nothing to do but pour drinks and try not to remember the taste of my own sweat on his mouth.

Eventually, the night wound down. Cypress vanished. Elise slipped upstairs with her final customer. The inn grew quiet.

And Travin stayed.

I took the chance and slid into the seat across from him. I had so much pent-up emotion, rage at what he did. It was directed at me as much as him. But still, sitting there. He was all charm. The charm was lovely.

“Sorry,” I said, sighing as I leaned on the table. “It was just… hard.”

Something shifted in his eyes. He dropped the roguish smirk for a moment and actually looked at me.

“I’m sure it was.” He smiled again, pulling at his shirt, revealing the scab on his chest from where I bit him. “You held your own. You’re tougher than you think, and I knew right away how far we could go.”

“You’re a fucking monster.” It came out almost like a jest.

“Everyone’s a monster.” He replied as he pulled his shirt back up.

There was a pause while his eyes ran over me, taking me in like he was studying a map.

“You’re a half-elf,” he said.

I blinked. “Congratulations. You can see ears.”

“Living in a human town on the southern coast.”

“Right again.” I gave a half-shrug. “Have you heard the story?”

His brows lifted. “That was you?”

“Depends,” I said, smirking. “What did you hear?”

“That you’re a fugitive from Brikru. Stole a priceless necklace and are hiding out, waiting for your next big heist.”

“Oh, absolutely. That’s all true.”

He grinned. “So, you’re not the half-elf wench working off a family debt that can’t ever be repaid?”

“No, that’s the other half-elf wench.”

“Good,” he said. “Your story’s better.”

I propped my chin on my hand. “What’s your story?”

He hesitated, eyes flicking to the sword lying across the table. “Nothing worth telling. I reach for that blade too often. Solve too many problems with it. Eventually…” He drummed his fingers. “I run out of places to stand.”

“A wanderer,” I said softly. “So I’m stuck in one place… and you can’t stay in one.”

“The gods do love opposites,” he said.

I leaned forward. “Have you ever been to the Equatorial Continent?”

He rolled the bracelet between his fingers. “More than I’ve been here. It’s rough. Honest. Fewer rules. Magic in the air, monsters underfoot, gold if you can live long enough to carry it home.”

“That’s where my father is,” I murmured. “He never told us much.”

Travin gave a crooked smile. “Harsh place to make a future. But it is a future.”

“You like it there?”

“I like it here, right now.”

I rolled my eyes. “Flirting in a tavern. Groundbreaking.”

“Can’t help it. I’m enjoying myself.” His eyes wandered over my body again, Hell's I could feel them like hands on my skin.

“You’re impossible.”

“A little,” he said, smiling. “But it’s wild down there. Beautiful. Like you.”

I folded my arms. “Why aren’t you there, then?”

“I tend to wear out my welcome. Came back to the empire to see if I’d left anything behind worth missing.”

“And did you?”

He held my gaze. “I will. After leaving you.”

I scoffed. “Stop.”

“It’s true.”

He drained the last of his drink. “Your little southern kingdom’s charming. I like the dwarven one to the northwest better, but... there’s so much more out there.”

“It’s a big world.”

He nodded. “And I want to see all of it.”

His gaze slipped past me, distant. “Gold is the key. Not much. Just enough.”

“Enough for what?”

“To get to the next stop.”

“And then what?”

“Then I move again.”

I stared at him. A man without roots. A storm without direction.

Not much of a tale to tell, really.

He flipped his mug upside down. Empty.

I sighed. “Fine.”

I stood, grabbed the mug, and tossed it onto my tray.

Just one more refill.

When I turned around, he was gone.

Only a single gold coin sat on the table, catching the tavern light.

A tip for my work.

Or a goodbye.

Maybe both.

Thank the fucking Gods he was gone. I could feel a wave of tension release. I wanted to slap myself for being friendly with him. He was just so… Fuck! It was hard to articulate. The Rogue and The Monster never seemed to be in the same room.

Kaeso arrived about an hour later. Of course, the place was empty. We performed our little charade for Elise, like always.

Then I went upstairs with him.