She sighed and then straightened her back. Oh, how she missed her servants right now. Just someone to hold an umbrella over her once elegant dress. The rain had been drooling over her for some time now, and it showed! Even the plastic bag she’d found hadn’t been much of a savior. 

As Marelynn reached the tavern’s door, she crumpled up the bag and threw it on the ground. Quickly the 27 year old aristocrat wrangled most of the rain from the bottom of her dress. Then, head held high, Marelynn entered the tavern. 

The musty heat slapped her in the face. As it teamed up with her fatigue, it made her stumble. Immediately she regained her composure. ‘Never show weakness! It makes you a victim, prey’, thundered her father’s voice in her head, a head covered in wild black curls - now firmly held high. Beneath her breath she snarled: “I AM NOT PREY!” Immediately Marelynn’s stance changed. Her natural elegance and authority stepped forward as she flicked her hair back. Even in the sparse tavern lights her delicate features would rob a man’s breath. Looking around, Marelynn’s moss green eyes found the counter. 

Straight as an arrow the slender aristocrat floated in her dark blue gown towards the counter. Oh, how she craved a hot choco, with a generous dollop of whipped cream, and a handful of those cute, little marshmallows… ‘Hmmm, a healthy shot of brandy wouldn’t hurt either’, Marelynn mused. As she reached the counter, she slapped her palm on the sticky wooden surface. “One big brandy, right here”, she ordered in a silky smooth voice.