Page 60 of Blood Red Woes

That went better than the first time, I guess, though I don’t know what exactly it accomplished.

We head through the upper city, walking through the streets that are more well-kept and clean than the rest of Laconia. Not one speck of dirt on the stone ground. Not even in the shadows of the tall buildings. It almost looks sterile.

Frederick brings me to the marketplace, specifically one of the only stone buildings on the market level. We pass a small crowd of people, and I’m seconds from asking him where we are when we walk into the building. That’s when it hits me.

Large wooden barrels sit behind a makeshift bar counter, and an old man with a short gray beard and a dirty apron stands behind the counter. Wooden tables line the place, each seat full. Every person has a mug either in front of them or in their hands.

It’s a bar. Or a tavern. Whatever the hell they’re called here.

All eyes are on Frederick and me as we stroll in. We walk up to the counter, where the old man stands, waiting. The moment he saw us enter, he got out two more mugs and filled the cups with some kind of foamy liquid—alcohol, if I had to guess. Whatever weird shit they drink here.

“You must be that special empress everyone’s talking about,” the barkeep says with a wink as he pushes the mugs toward Frederick and me.

I glance at Frederick, watching him take his mug. “Word travels fast.”

“Prim wasn’t exactly quiet about her faith in you or what you were to her,” Frederick says as he leans an arm on the bar counter. “I… may have helped things along, after—” When I continue to stare at him, he adds, “You must understand, Rey,it’s been a long time since the people of Laconia have had any hope, even longer since they truly believed in anything. You may not want to admit it, but you are a harbinger of change, whether you want to be or not.”

Frederick gestures around us with his mug-free hand. “All these people are here because they saw you protect them from Gladus’s soldiers. They witnessed you do something they thought impossible: stand up against an empress and her power andwin. You coming back after your journey to Pylos’s castle only proves it more.”

A woman at a nearby table stands, raises her cup, and says, “To Rey.” She’s just a random face to me, but the way she looks at me tells me every word Frederick said is true. I may not know her, but she knows me… and she believes in me.

As I watch the entire crowd raise their mugs in solidarity, repeating the toast, “To Rey,” I realize they all do.

Beside me, Frederick lifts his mug with them, though he says, “To you,” before he takes his first sip.

Faith. Hope. It’s a lot to put on someone, especially a lot to put on me. I’ve never… this is all new to me, and I don’t think I like it. Not only the pressure, but the way they all keep looking at me, as if they’re afraid I’ll disappear. Or maybe they just want to soak me in.

I don’t toast myself, but I do grab the mug on the counter and raise it once everyone else’s toast is done. Nobody should be toasting me.

“To Prim,” I say, and then I drink.

Chapter Nineteen

Frederick wasn’t joking when he said everyone wants to meet me. It’s not as bad, being pulled to every table to meet these people, as it would’ve been staying in the upper district and meeting the nobles. These people want me to save them, while the noblemen and women in this city would probably only think about how they could use me to their advantage.

I still don’t think I’m their savior. I’m just a normal girl. But I don’t tell them that. I… I suck it all up, and I do it for Prim. This is what she’d want. This, the community coming together, is what she would’ve wanted. If only she was here to celebrate with us.

After a while, a group of people pick up old instruments and start playing, filling the bar’s interior with music. Music I’ve never heard of, but everyone else seems to enjoy it. The day grows late, the sun setting in the sky.

I don’t leave Frederick’s side for a while. It’s strange, watching him interact with the people here. Everyone seems to know his name, know who he is—and he has business with a lot of them. He might live in a shack, but he’s well-respected among these people. He helps them when he can, does favors for them with no hope of getting paid. The people respect him.

Eventually, I find myself outside the bar, watching a group of kids play some game on the stone twenty feet or so in front of the bar. Groups of people line the area, but the kids are having their own fun time playing a game similar to hopscotch, from what I can tell.

I sit on a crate, watching them with a sad smile. My hands are empty; I finished my drink a while ago and don’t really want any more. The ale, as Frederick called it, is very sweet. Not my kind of drink.

Prim should be here. She should be playing with the other kids. She should be over there, having not a care in the world.

But instead she’s dead, and there’s no bringing her back.

“Children are our future,” a soft voice speaks behind me, “and yet we cannot provide for them as we should. It is not right, but then again, few things in Laconia are as of the moment.”

I look over my shoulder to find Aolia has come down from the upper city to join the party. She looks out of place here in her regal blue and green robes, with the jewels around her neck. She moves to stand beside me, watching the children alongside me with a serene expression on her face.

When I don’t say anything, Aolia whispers, “I am sorry about the girl. I wish there was more we could’ve done for her. Frederick and our healers did their best, but…”

“I don’t really want to talk about her,” I say, picking at my jeans absentmindedly. I can feel Aolia staring at me, but I ignore her. Whatever philosophical shit she’s about to wax, I don’t want to hear it.

Aolia moves to sit beside me on the crate, her tall, slender figure dwarfing mine in the process. Her hands fold on her lap, a soft smile on her face. “I hope you do not begrudge us for how we treated you in the beginning. Laconia has never been trusting of newcomers.”

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