The water-rotten, wooden walkway groaned under his feet. The brisk harbor breeze brought a shiver down his spine. This port might have been new to him yet he had been here hundreds of times in a way. Places like Ordenna were always the same, keep one hand on your coin purse and the other on your dagger. The city was mostly made up of tightly packed shanties constructed from the wood of countless wrecked ships and leaky thatch. While merchants and traders did make the occasional stop, the city of freedom without a doubt belonged to pirates and thieves. A smile crept its way onto his lips. Despite its lawlessness, this place was not too unlike his home on the other side of the Salty Sea. Children clacked wooden swords together along the shore, women with salt-stained skirts strolled through the harbor, sailors hauled cargo from tall ships. Perhaps when his debut was paid to the pirates, he would return to Nievivon. Fetch Pasha, set up a real clinic…
“Sir!”
The sound of a woman's voice pulled him from his nostalgic haze. A woman of unassuming stature. A sea of dark cinnamon curls spilled out of her faded cloak and despite the distress in her voice, her golden eyes danced with joy and mischief.
“This might sound absurd but, would it be a terrible burden for you to pretend to be my betrothed?”
A hot blush broke out across his cheeks as he loosened his collar, “Pardon?”
“If anyone asks, pretend to be my betrothed.” She repeated glancing over her shoulder, “Please you would just need to walk me back to my mother’s shop.”
“Is someone following you miss?”
She sucked in a sharp breath, casting her gaze behind her once again.
“Yes. Please, I would be very grateful to you sir. The shop is only a short walk from the harbor.”
He nodded offering her his arm, “Alright, let’s get you home sweetness.”
A dazzling grin pulled at her full lips as she laced her arm through his own.
“Who is following you?” He glanced down at her with a raised eyebrow.
She let loose a bark of laughter sweet as church bells, wickedness flashing in her amber gaze.
“Well,” She mused, “I may have been accused of sleeping with a traveling merchant’s wife.”
“And did you?”
“Why, of course not! I was out on a stroll with my handsome fiance Mr…. Umm what is your name anyway?”
“Doctor, actually.” He corrected with a chuckle, “Julian Devorak.”
“Oh! A doctor! Not more normal sort but, my ma would be well pleased with the match.” She leaned in resting her head against his arm, “You can call me Fable, everyone else does.”
“Fable, what a lovely name. A musical name. Fable.” Julian brought his free hand to her chin, tilting her face up at him, “That suits you.”
“Much better than the shite one I was given anyways!”
Her statement piqued his curiosity. Truth be told everything about her did but the sharpness in her voice told him not to ask this particular question.
“You seem rather roughing for a physician.” She hummed sizing him up, “Your accent is foreign but, you have the look of someone who knows how to look out for themselves. You aren’t in the finery of a merchant-”
“Are you saying I look shabby?” He teased giving her a prod to the ribs.
“I’m just saying you don’t look like a merchant!” she stroked an invisible beard, “I have an idea!”
Before he could respond she gave his arm a firm tung yanking him into an alley hidden between two ramshackle buildings. The space was cramped, there was hardly space between them. His cheeks betrayed him, flushing red as a schoolboy.
“Give me your hand.”
“What?”
Fable rolled her eyes, “Give me your hand.”
Julian shrugged, giving her a bemused look, “Alright.”
She snatched his palm into her right hand. Her brow furrowed hand she nibbled her lip. Whatever she was seeing she was enthralled.
“Interesting.”
“What is? My hand?”
“You can tell a lot about a man from his hands Julian.” She winked, “For instance, I can tell you are perceptive and sympathetic. This line tells me you experienced loss when you were young. “
“Your hands are calloused, just like mine. You’ve been on ships all your life then. Alright, I think you are a ship’s surgeon. You were raised around piracy but you grew up somewhere much kinder than Ordena. Perhaps near the strait of seals? You are too kind to have been a pirate all your life. Somehow you ended up running with a crew and you were perceptive enough to get them to take you in.”
“That- That is uncanny…”
“Fortune’s are my ma’s trade,” She shrugged, “I could give you a tarot reading at the shop if you’d like.”
“You, my dear are a fascinating woman.” Julian could help but eye her up, “Can you see anything else?”
‘Let me see...Hmm, interesting, I see a taste for hedonistic. It would seem we are too of a kind.”
Julian took in hand swallow his back pressing against the wall in his attempt to put some space between him and the amber-eyed minx. She laughed that charming, musical laugh before leaning her fingers back through his own.
“Come on. You can tell me all about it when we get to the shop.”
She turned to lead him out of the alleyway but as soon as her boots touched down on the main path she was yanked from his arm. The force knocked back the heavy woolen hood of her cloak revealing a set of slightly pointed ears. A half-elf. He’d seen a few nonhumans on his travels but they were rare visitors in Nevivon.
“Let go of me!” She growled, throwing an elbow up at her captor with shocking swiftness, “What kind of beast snatches a lady on the street?”
She broke loose running back to Julian giving him a knowing look. The man clutched his nose, blood trickling between silk-clad hands. His eyes burned with rage.
“You bitch! I think you broke my nose!”
He stepped closer to them. On instinct, Julian stepped between them pushing Fable behind him. He was much taller than the merchant but far less bulky. Still, her plan could work. He cleared his throat before calmly speaking.
“I would thank you not to speak to my fiancee in such a way.”
The merchant let out a side-splitting laugh, “You expect me to believe that this whore is your betrothed! Ha! Look, son, I don’t know what she told you but that woman is nothing but trouble so stand aside.”
His blood boiled. He had only known her for a moment yet he couldn’t stand to hear the way the merchant spoke about her.
“You clearly have the wrong women.” Julian sated through gritted teeth, “Now go.”
“Bloody pirates” the merchant grumbled before taking a swing at Julian’s gut.
The impact knocked him back against the nearest wall. Julian stuck in a labored breath getting back to his feet. A devilish grin spread across his lips.
“Did you get that out of your system?”
He started towards the merchant again but Fable held out her hand to stop him.
“Now, now” She tisked, “That was impolite. Perhaps you should be more worried about the pool of acid you are standing in rather than my personal affairs…”
An ear-piercing scream broke loose from the merchant who was as far as Julian could tell, very much not standing in a pool of acid. Fable rushed over offering him a shoulder to lean on.
“We need to go,” She hissed, “he will see through the illusion in one minute.”
