((Cont...))
She smiled at him politely, “Thank you for your coins, sir, and your compliment.” Though her reply offered little to begin a conversation with, she made certain it did not carry the note of finality that would be a dismissal. He nodded at her and began to turn away, but paused almost as soon and looked back to her.
"I don't s'ppose I could interest ya in a meal and maybe somethin' ta tell at your next show, eh?" He flashed a sort of rogueish smile at her, and added a few words a moment later. "My treat, of course."
She glances him over, almost shrewdly judging his posture and expression for intent, then flashes a quick smile, “I'd have to get your guarantee that you are no errand boy sent to fetch me off to Kartherian.” He laughed at her sharp reply, his laughter soon taking the form of words bearing an amused but not offended tone.
"Ha ha! Not t'day I'm not. We don' even hafta leave these walls if ya'd rather."
She buried herself further into her character with that laugh. This would be no easy feat, pretending she did not know him, pretending she did not care for him. It was harder then she thought it would be. Likely in her original assumption she'd discounted her very real want to be whisked away from the eyes of drunken men, and the eyes of those with the same expressions yet not drunk enough for her to easily escape. She knew if she'd even hinted at such a desire this one would bear her away from all of this.
“I suppose then I can agree to a meal. We'll see if what you have to share is stage worthy... But if I suddenly flee, don't wonder too long why.” She gave another quick smile.
"I can abide that!" he answered quickly and offered her an arm. "Let's see if we can find a table with a view then, so's no one sneaks up on ya, eh?" She only smiled at his offer and gestured ahead of her for him to lead the way. Without missing a step, he let his arm lower as if that's what he intended all along as he scanned the room and eventually spied an unoccupied table. "That one should do..." he said as he began to walk toward it, looking back once at her and casually leaving his ale on the stage. She followed along behind him which was easily heard since, she chimed and hiss-clinked and rustled all the way. It amused her to tease the gent now that his eyes were away from her and she began to hum portions of her last song under her breath as they moved. She timed her steps to move to the song intentionally producing more of the chimes and hisses. The combination of sounds was a quiet performance that fit well together, though only those they passed by would hear it. He reached the small, round table first, and pulled out a chair for her but didn't linger behind it. Instead, he kept moving to the next chair and pulled it out for himself in a motion that brought it to be not quite opposite to hers. She slipped in to the tugged chair with an easy grace and did not pull it in but rather curled comfortably in it, the layers of dress parting to reveal just a hint of skin beneath but left the exact placement of her legs somewhat of a mystery.
He sat down easily into the chair with a slight flair of his own, not bothering to hide the drift of his eyes down to the hints given by her skirt. His eyes lifted almost immediately as he looked for barmaid to call over. After a moment, he got the attention of one, then turned to Autumn and extended his right hand to her.
"Name's Drake, lass," he spoke in an easy tone.
She smiled at him, “Well met Drake.” For a moment she looked over his hand, as if the simple gesture might mean more. She added quickly to her greeting however, “You'll forgive me if I do not offer my hand. I fell for that trick in the last town.” She smiled at him playfully but with something more that suggested some truth to her words. He smiled at her and tipped his head.
"It's no trick, lass. Just bein' polite." He did not seem at all disheartened by her lack of return on the gesture and withdrew it just as easily as it was offered. The rest of the evening passed this way, glances and easy banter as well as the promised tale. The evening even included a walk upon the docks where Drake offered another tale or two. Her weariness, wariness and wine began to wear on her by the end and as she and he returned to the inn some part of Autumn's source slipped forward. She stopped and did not reach for the door, but only looked at it. It was a look that took in every detail of the door, the wood's grain, the abuse it had taken over the years, the scars on the metal of the latch, even the manner in which it fit the door from. She shivered a bit from the chill of the air, yet she remained nearly locked into place, studying the door. Drake stopped with her and turned slightly, as though expecting her to do the same. He seemed, were she to look, to have been about to say something, but he stopped himself and instead simply studied her expression and occasionally looked toward the door, in case there was something there he was missing.
“It's a strange thing this place. From the outside looking in, it is a prison from which escape is unlikely... .Yet from within there are wonders few will know but me...” Something in her tone offered that the shared observation was something of a token given to him. He tipped his head slightly at her unexpected comment. His face acknowledged it immediately, but he did not immediately respond. After a moment's consideration, however, he offered a response starting with a slight nod and a genuine quality to his tone.
"Lots of things are not like they seem on the outside. Like a good tale, the telling is one layer of many." He lingered his eyes on her for another moment before looking to the door. She smiled softly with his statement, directed as much at him as the door.
“Indeed,” she reached forward and unlatched the door, and after a moment's hesitation she drew it open and began to step inside. Before she got fully inside, he posed a question.
"Is this where ya want ta be tonight, lass?" She paused in mid-step and held there. Though clearly struck by the question she schooled her expression to be unreadable. After a breath's space she righted herself in the door way and smiled a bit sadly.
“Do I have a choice?” She turned her head to look at him over her shoulder, bearing that same sad smile, “I've my sentence to serve.” He raised an eyebrow at her response and it was quite clear it was not what he expected her to say. Another genuine smile formed on his face.
"Sounds like a story I'd not mind hearin' sometime..." He paused briefly, then continued. "There's always choices. Somethin' tells me yer not the type to just take the cards life deals ya."
“I'm not,” she shrugged and stated simply, “But the choices before us aren't always plentiful or appealing,” she paused for a moment, “And some of them are simply unknown to us.” He nodded at her words.
"True enough...true enough." He paused slightly. "And yet sometimes we make our own choices." She turned fully to face him and looked him over quietly for a moment. Her eyes ran the gauntlet of his expression studying the mask of Drake and the hints of what was beyond. Whatever she saw there touched her in a way that she could not bury just then. She leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek lightly, pausing in the movement long enough to whisper.
“Thank you, gentleman Drake. Rest easy...” The surprise in his face that came at her kiss was genuine, but quickly schooled to something more like gracious appreciation. He responded quietly as she drew back.
"Thank you, m'lady Autumn, for yer choices and company this evening." He gave a slight bow."I look forward for the morrow." She nodded slightly at his bow and comment then turned and slipped into the inn. With out pause or stopping to speak with anyone, she slipped through the next door that led to the stage and the sleeping rooms beyond.