Lucas stepped toward her, his breathing finally steadying, and reached up to brush away the fine beads of sweat on her temple. His fingers lingered for a mont as he tucked a stray lock of hair back behind her ear, smoothing it into place. Nyx stiffened slightly at the unexpected gesture, but she didn’t pull away.
"Better," Lucas said quietly, his tone casual, though the corner of his mouth curved with amusent.
She frowned. "You didn’t have to..."
"I did," he cut in smoothly, stepping back. "If we wanted to escape without breaking a sweat, we could’ve done it easily. But where’s the fun in that?"
Without another word, he glanced around the street and then pointed ahead. "Co on. We’ve earned a drink. Let’s find a pub."
It didn’t take long. They slipped into a dimly lit place tucked between two larger buildings, the scent of roasting at and woodsmoke clinging to the air. The pub wasn’t crowded, just a handful of patrons hunched over their drinks, speaking in low tones. Lucas led them to a sturdy wooden table in the corner and waved over a serving girl.
"Four mugs of ale," he ordered without hesitation.
Nyx raised an eyebrow. "Ale?"
He nodded. "You know what it is, don’t you?"
"I do," she said, her voice laced with faint disdain. "It’s... common. Not sothing often served in the castle."
"Exactly," Lucas said with a grin. "All the more reason to try it here."
When the drinks arrived, the mugs were heavy, the amber liquid inside topped with a thin layer of froth. Lucas slid one toward her. "Drink."
Nyx lifted the mug slowly, taking a cautious sip. The mont the bitter, earthy flavor hit her tongue, her nose wrinkled. She swallowed with effort and set the mug down with a faint clink. "That’s... unpleasant," she admitted.
Lucas chuckled and shook his head. "You’re hopeless," he teased, before tipping his own mug back and gulping down a few hearty mouthfuls. The strong taste didn’t faze him in the slightest.
Nyx didn’t like the way he was laughing at her. Her chin lifted ever so slightly, and a stubborn glint appeared in her eyes. "You think I can’t handle it?"
"I think you’re about to order tea," Lucas replied with a smirk.
Without another word, Nyx grabbed the mug, lifted it to her lips, and drank the entire thing in one go. The liquid burned its way down, but she didn’t flinch, didn’t stop, not even for breath. When she finished, she slamd the empty mug on the table with a solid thud.
Lucas’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. He leaned forward slightly, lowering his voice so only she could hear. "...I like this version better."
"I can handle anything," Nyx replied, her voice cool but her eyes bright with a competitive gleam. Without waiting for him to challenge her again, she reached across the table and took another mug. This ti, instead of downing it in one dramatic move, she brought it to her lips and took asured, deliberate gulps, savoring the drink despite its rough taste.
Lucas leaned back in his chair, resting one arm over the backrest while watching her with an amused expression. "Careful, Princess," he said lightly. "You might start enjoying it."
Nyx shot him a sideways glance over the rim of her mug. "Perhaps." She set it down and rested her hands lightly on the table, fingers tracing the worn grooves in the wood. "You know," she began, tilting her head slightly, "I never knew you were... interesting."
Lucas arched an eyebrow. "Interesting?"
"And funny," she added, as though that were even more surprising. "I had always seen you as the serious, diligent type. The sort of man who frowns more than he smiles, and who would never be caught wasting ti in a place like this."
Lucas laughed, the sound warm and unrestrained. "That’s because you only ever saw during the serious tis," he said. "I separate my ti for pleasure from my ti for cultivation and alchemy. You won’t see laughing when I’m refining a pill, just like you won’t see brooding when I’m holding a mug of ale."
Nyx smiled faintly, lifting her drink again. "So this is the other side of you?"
"This," Lucas said with a half-smirk, "is the side that knows it’s good to step away sotis. To take a break from cultivation, from alchemy, from the pressing matters of the kingdom. You can’t stay wound tight forever, sooner or later, sothing will snap."
Nyx studied him for a mont, then gave a small, slow nod. "You’re right," she said softly, her tone losing so of its usual sharpness. "I agree with that."
All of this...the laughter, the warmth of the ale, the carefree conversation...was making Nyx forget the pressing weight that constantly sat on her shoulders. For the first ti in a long while, she wasn’t thinking about court politics, the unending demands of her royal duties, or the calculated grace she had to maintain before the eyes of the kingdom. Here, in this dimly lit, bustling pub, she wasn’t the princess. She was simply Nyx. And in this mont, she wished she could live a free life like this every single day, without consequence or expectation.
Lucas noticed the ease in her expression and the way her laughter ca more freely, unrestrained by decorum. They kept drinking together, mugs clinking in casual toasts that needed no reason. With each sip, their laughter grew warr, more genuine, carrying over the chatter and music of the pub.
At so point, the sound of cheering and jeering drew their attention to a corner of the room where several patrons were clustered around a dartboard. A burly man with a thick beard had just missed the bullseye by a hair, and the crowd groaned in exaggerated disappointnt. Lucas grinned at Nyx.
"Ever played?" he asked.
She shook her head, her cheeks slightly flushed from the ale. "No. But how hard can it be?"
"That," Lucas replied, standing up and offering her his hand, "is the exact sort of confidence that gets you into trouble. Co on."
They weaved through the crowd until they stood near the dartboard, greeted with curious glances from the regulars. One of the n handed Nyx a set of darts with a half-smile, as if doubting she’d even be able to lift them properly. She narrowed her eyes in mock challenge and stepped forward.
Lucas leaned in close, his voice low so only she could hear. "Aim with your wrist, not your whole arm. And don’t forget to look like you ant to hit it, no matter where it lands."
Nyx smirked and threw her first dart....it struck just outside the center ring, earning a few surprised murmurs from the crowd. Lucas chuckled and took his turn, landing accurately on the bullseye, cheers erupted and he took a proud posture.
Before long, they were both caught up in the ga, their competitive banter drawing laughter from onlookers. Every missed throw was t with playful accusations of sabotage, and every close hit brought cheers.
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