The busyness had slowed down marginally, or at least enough to Adrianna to steal a seat at the counter. Eventually her presence would attract one of the serving wenches. The overworked servers here were a far cry from the well-compensated castle servants that surrounded her before. A great many thing she had never experienced growing up as nobility. She was nothing if not resilient though. She certainly had to be to make it this far out into the scorched ground of Nagath. A less adaptable noble child – any of her brothers she was convinced – would have turned back within a day unable to continue.
A rough figure took a seat next to her. There was no necessity to, as other places were free that were not adjacent anyone else. ’Here we go again.’ She held back rolling her eyes, suspecting what was soon to follow. She expected the raggedy traveler to hit on her as a few had before. At best he would give up at her first dismissal. Worst would require a swift punch in the mouth. ’Don’t. Make. Eye contact….’ She noticed him looking her over out of the corner of her eye while she made great effort not to let him notice that she knew.
He seemed to go back to his own business as he tossed some coins onto the counter. The flicker of silver attracted the attention of a serving wench almost immediately. She took the opportunity to offer money of her own. She dropped a couple of gold coins on the counter from a coin purse she kept tied to her waist, hidden behind her cloak. Gold was rare to see out here as payment. Most people never had enough money on them to carry gold coin. “Something hot to eat … and if you know where, a place to feed & stable a horse for the night,” she asked of the server who had come to see what the two were interested in.
From the few glances of the man next seat over she had gotten, she pieced together he was a weary traveler – probably very scrapped for cash too – who probably had lost a fight recently. The bandaged right hand was telling of something. He seemed too unbruised to have been mugged, no. He didn’t seem built like the fighting type. She diverted her mind elsewhere instead of practicing silent judgement. She had been taught to read people with just a glance: to know their prides, their fears, their debts. At its heart, diplomacy was a silent war between two negotiating parties as each tirelessly strove to find any tidbit that helps them encourage, or extort, a more favorable exchange. The skillset had never come easy to her but she had studied and practiced for hours on end to become adept at it. Even now she was not as good as she wished she could be. Her learned perfectionism ate at her esteem.
