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Her eyes burned with tears as she stood quietly overlooking the cliffs above the sleepy town below. A single building with soft yellow light stood out amongst the gloom of night; life in a world full of people drifting on the edge of sleep. The hood that draped over her head hid her face from the brightness of the moonlight that hung low in the midnight sky. The only things visible were two golden pools that peered outward into the darkness. The woman turned from the cliff, her cloak billowing in the wind and disappeared from sight.
She stood quietly observing outside of a large window that looked into the tavern. The sounds of clanking glasses, conversation and drunken brawls poured out of the tavern creating a havoc of noise. Her heart thundered achingly in her chest as she struggled to breathe through the tears that slithered like daggers down her face. As she approached the door she paused noting the sign nailed above the entryway of the tavern. The words The Green Dragon Inn were etched upon the wooden board. It seemed worn from years of being exposed to the elements. The door itself seemed fairly new. She could only conclude from the sounds of brawling on the inside that it was replaced often. A gloved hand slipped from beneath her cloak and pressed against the heavy oak door, and as it groaned in protest it began to open slowly. Her cloaked form entered into the tavern and as she did the noise fell to a hushed whisper as eyes lifted and peered in her direction. The sudden fall of silence forced her to stiffen and take in a deep breath to help compose her, but her composure was failing as cold, judging stares focused upon her form in the doorway. The hood masked her tear streaked face and flushed cheeks and she felt a little relief for the safety of her garment. Just as quickly as the silence had fallen, it ensued. Eyes shifted, and noise returned. The woman walked silently to a table at the back of the tavern, the cloak sweeping across the floorboards with a soft hiss of sound. Slowly she lowered herself into a chair, and lifted gloved hands upward to remove the hood from her head. Crimson hair spiraled downward about her shoulders framing a face of noble stature. Long thick lashes topped vibrant orbs of gold that shimmered in the soft firelight of the tavern. Tears glittered in the light of the fire as she leaned back against the chair and finally took a long look at her surroundings.
“Milady you look troubled.”
She lifted her gaze quietly and looked upward at the gentleman who stood before her. Deep brown eyes peered down at her filled with curiosity and concern.
“I-I’m fine,” she stammered under her breathe and lowered her gaze to keep from meeting his stare.
“Your tear stained cheeks say otherwise,” he said quietly as he lowered into a vacant chair at the table.
