Page 9 of Empire of Flame and Thorns

I look up from my meal ticket and open my mouth to respond.

“The fish stew,” replies the woman who has suddenly appeared next to me.

My gaze flits from her to the tavern keeper. It was my turn to order. Not hers. For a second, I consider saying something. But in the end, I just let her order first. No point in being difficult.

Once she has received her meal, I finally meet the tavern keeper’s eyes.

“What can I get you?” he asks.

“The mutton stew, please,” I reply.

Since I work with fish every day, I’m usually sick of the smell and taste of it, so I always order the beef or the mutton stew.

He nods distractedly, one eye on the long line that has started to form behind me, before he heads over to the massive pots that contain the different stews. I roll the corner of the meal ticket while I wait for him to come back. My stomach grumbles, but I’m so used to it that I barely notice it anymore.

“Alright, here we are,” the tavern keeper says. A thud sounds as he sets down the bowl on the dark wooden counter before me. “One fish stew.”

I reach for it before his words register. Pausing with my hand halfway to the bowl, I meet his tired gaze and open my mouth to speak.

Indecision flashes through me. Should I tell him that he got my order wrong? I really don’t want the fish stew. But I also don’t want to cause any trouble.

My hand hovers in the air. The tavern keeper raises his eyebrows in question before his distracted gaze once more flits to the long line of people waiting impatiently behind me.

Anxiousness slithers through my stomach.

“Thank you,” I press out, and take the offered bowl while handing over my meal ticket.

Deep inside, frustration rips through me. I should have said something. Iwantedto say something. Because I didn’t want the fish. I wanted the mutton stew. But I just… I didn’t want to annoy him. People already keep me at arm’s length, and I don’t want to give them any more reasons to dislike me.

Blowing out an exhausted sigh, I take my bowl of fish stew and head straight for the table I spotted earlier. It’s a table for two, so I slide into the rickety chair and immediately pick up the spoon from the bowl.

The fish tastes like… fish. But I eat it anyway.

While I eat, one of the waitresses comes by and places a mug of ale in front of me. I watch her flowing brown hair sway across her back as she walks up to the next table and does the same. At the third table, she swaps out the empty mugs for full ones.

I shake my head. We only get one meal ticket per day, but all alcohol is free. Another cruel but effective tactic to keep us all on our knees. Drinking alcohol eases the hunger and numbs the pain and depression that most people feel. It also makes people addicted and keeps them too drunk to fight back.

With another sigh, I shake my head once more. We need to change this.Ineed to change this. And once I win the Atonement Trials, that is exactly what I will do.

CHAPTER FOUR

Steel rings faintly through the chilly midday air as I use a whetstone to sharpen my knife. One of my fellow guild members rolls a wooden barrel along the street. It produces a wooden rattling sound as it turns over and over. I keep my eyes on my blade.

“Here’s the next barrel,” he says when he reaches me.

With a grunt, he grabs the side of the barrel and tips it back up so that it’s in an upright position. I raise my gaze from the whetstone right as he uses a crowbar to pop the lid of the barrel.

The smell of fish wafts towards me.

I stare at the mountain of fish waiting for me in the barrel. It’s the same thing every day. Transporters bring me barrels or buckets of fish, and I clean it, gut it, and cut it. It’s boring, monotonous, and smelly. But at least it has helped me develop great skills with a knife.

“Thanks,” I say to the transporter who is dusting off his hands after straightening the barrel.

He nods and then heads back down towards Lake Andun, where the actual fishermen work to catch the fish that I and other low-level guild members get to clean.

My gaze flits down to my hands. After I finished the previous barrel, I had a few minutes to spare, so I was able to wash and scrub my hands. And since I want to enjoy the sensation of clean and soap-scented hands a little longer, I keep pretending to sharpen my knife even though I’m already done.

Hopefully, it won’t be too long now before?—

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