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"And why would I not want to be seen with you?" He quirks an eyebrow and slips his hand around my elbow to usher me toward the lively bar.
"Well, I forget you are royalty," I whisper when we claim two empty stools and wait for the bartender to make his way to us. "And I'm not sure if you're seeing anyone in the city."
His body stiffens and his eyes widen.
"Oh," I gasp, my throat constricting. "Oh, you are seeing someone. I – "
"I'm not seeing anyone," he says, tilting his face to meet my embarrassed gaze. "Not here and not in any other kingdom."
His forwardness excites me, and I'm lost for words. Although I am well aware that he teaches art classes some evenings, for weeks I've shooed the heartbreaking thought that he could be out with another woman when he's not at the rowhouse. Now that I know he's not, my stomach flips. His eyes haven't left mine, as if he's wishing, hoping I will say something to reassure him, but before I do, the bartender slides in front of us with a cheery grin.
"Well, if this isn't a sight." He smacks his hands on the counter, drawing Atlas' attention. "The shadow wielder himself, sitting at my bar. To what do I owe this unexpected pleasure?"
I crinkle my nose when I detect sarcasm in the bartender's tone. Is he making fun of Atlas? My gaze bounces between them, attempting to gauge if their interaction is a friendly one.
"Well, perhaps if you weren't so cheerful, I'd be more inclined to sit here," Atlas fires back and the bartender barks out a hearty laugh.
"Excuse me for loving my job." He scratches a finger through his well-manicured beard. "Not all of us are meant to be broody and mysterious."
Atlas chuckles. "It's good to see you."
"Don't get all sappy on me, Atlas." He turns his focus to me and extends his hand. "Forgive my manners. I'm Baelyn."
I flash Atlas a side-eyed glance before I slip my hand in the bartender's. "Shaye."
"It's nice to meet you, Shaye." He retrieves his cold hand and busies himself preparing a drink. "You must be the white-haired Midorian Nyx and Ronan were telling me about."
I quirk an eyebrow. "You seem to be very well informed."
"I'm a bartender," he shrugs. "People tend to overshare once they've gotten a few drinks in them."
"Noted," I smile.
"So, what can I get you?" Baelyn asks me as he sets a dark lager in front of Atlas.
I stare at the white foam floating atop Atlas' frozen mug and point at it. "I guess I'll have what he's having."
Baelyn smiles and nods in approval. "Good choice. It's not my best seller, but Atlas likes it, and he pays well, so I keep it on tap." He pours me a matching stein and slides it in front of me. "If you don't like it, let me know and I'll get you something different."
"Thank you," I grab the handle and lift the mug to my lips.
"We will be eating tonight as well, Baelyn," Atlas says.
"Two house specials coming right up."
He walks to the far end of the bar when another patron flags him for help, so I'm not able to ask what the house special is, but Atlas, who always seems to be in tune with what I'm thinking or feeling, explains, "The only food served here is the house special."
"Which is?"
"Beef stew and a side of bread."
Suddenly, the hunger pangs in my stomach increase and my mouth waters. Just the thought of sinking my teeth into a piece of slow-roasted meat has me ready to devour it the second Baelyn sets it before me.
"I hope that's alright."
I nod, putting Atlas at ease, before bringing the mug to my lips and taking a sip. The foam tickles my upper lip, while the smooth amber liquid coats my throat. Although I detect bitterness, a hint of caramel punches through and dances on my tongue. I sense Atlas watching me, so I take another sip before wiping my mouth with the back of my hand and setting the cold mug down.
"Thoughts?" he asks.
