CHAPTER 73 - TRISTAN

“Fire me with Aglaean Wine,” Tristan said, sliding a copper piece on the counter towards the alehouse owner. A sweet, spicy drink would do before he would proceed on his goal. But one thing bothered him. He couldn’t sense the Guardian in this loud, awful place at all. “Where are you …” he whispered in a monotone.

Another woman stopped next to him and smiled, eyeing Tristan from head falling down to his lower, her fingers gently tapping on the table. “How can I serve a handsome young sir?”

Tristan closed his eyes. “The fact that you’re brushing your side against mine makes me want to cut you into pieces and put you in a filthy sack before throwing it to whoever shit who raised you.”

Tristan thought the woman was gone, until he felt her hand topping his on the counter. “My, my … how much bolder can you be? If you say so, then cut me into pieces, young sir.”

Tristan opened his eyes and shifted his dead glance at the woman. “Find