Cassia very quickly learned a number of things. 

The first was that it took much, much longer to get to Levitum when one had to walk. The early morning had been burned away by the sun by the time she reached the city proper.

The second was that, once one got to Levitum, they had to find their way through a warren of narrow alleys and wider roads packed to bursting with the late-morning bustle of city life. 

Levitum's eastern half was familiar to her. She had been down the paved streets, had occasionally visited the shops and theaters. The people were clean and content to go about their business in the bright light of day. But inevitably, she had to leave what she knew behind and venture more deeply into the city than she had ever gone before.

The third thing she learned was that being nobody was not nearly as freeing as she had always believed it would be. With each step, she reminded herself that she had made this decision to put herself at the mercy of the world.

Being a lone woman on foot and more lost than she would like to admit was nerve-wracking in a way Cassia had never experienced before. The crush of humanity was oppressive on the main roads, but she was loathe to venture down the alleyways. These spaces were in a perpetual dusk cast by the tall buildings they were squeezed between and more often than not filled with refuse and human waste.

So Cassia simply kept her head down, trying to make herself smaller, trying not to draw attention to herself as she let the current of the human stream move her farther and farther to the west. The civilian docks were a little farther south than she was currently, but Cassia had yet to find a road that would allow her to correct her course. All she could really do was keep walking.

Her shoes were pinching her feet dreadfully. A chill wind cut through her dress and lifted her hair, making her teeth chatter. She wished Priest Marius had thought to also give her a nice, warm cloak, preferably one trimmed in ermine.

Cassia daydreamed about wrapping herself in a layer of delicious warmth for a moment. 

Then she passed a group of men huddled against the wall of a small temple to Veridi, the goddess of lost things. They were wrapped in blankets that were little more than rags, hands extended for coins. Cassia blinked a few times in surprise. As she drew nearer, she choked on a gasp. 

Without exception, every one of the men had a missing limb. Some had stumps where hands should have been. One man had a length of dirty cloth wrapped around his head, hiding an empty eye socket. 

Despite their long, ragged hair and scruffy beards, Cassia knew without doubt that these men were legionaries. Or...they had been until they had been dealt such awful wounds.

Instinctively, Cassia reached toward her waist, fingers searching for a purse. When they found nothing but the rough material of her dress, she blinked, nearly stopping dead in the street. A hiss from an older woman and a sharp jab in the back kept her moving, but she couldn't tear her eyes away from the veterans as she was moved along.

Despite the fact that she was really no better off than them, she ached to help in whatever way she could. Her heart bled as she shuffled past the men, but there was really nothing she could do right now.

As soon as she let herself notice—really notice—Cassia found an astounding amount of poverty within the city. The change was not gradual. There was no gentle trailing into the dirty, poor sections of Levitum.

Once you passed a certain, invisible demarcation line, everything changed.

There were almost no merchants of any kind, and those who were there looked about as trustworthy as the rats that scurried from alley to alley. The trash and refuse piles began to creep out into the main roads, which were no longer paved, but rather just pathways of frozen mud. Cassia could only be grateful that it hadn't rained recently.

Most disturbing, though, were the number of women—some barely more than children—beckoning to any passing man on nearly every street corner. They were long past the part of town where even proper brothels could be found.

People scurried just like the rats, not wanting to get caught in this section of town even in broad daylight. Thieves stayed discreetly in the shadows, watching for anyone who might appear just a little too careless. The roads became more crooked. Buildings leaned precariously into the streets, huddling together like miserable drunks. 

The alleys turned into dark holes one might wander down and never return from, even in broad daylight.

Cassia shivered at the idea of not finding the tavern Julianus had told her to go to before darkness fell. Every few minutes she glanced up, as if to reassure herself that the sun hadn't arbitrarily decided to set faster today, just because of her. She kept a sharp eye on her surroundings, glad that she wasn't carrying anything of value. 

Not that that was the only incentive for someone to attack her. More than once, Cassia caught the stare of a passing man. Every time, she hesitated between the intelligence of simply lowering her gaze and hurrying away, and the natural inclination to glare and challenge anyone who would disrespect her so.

Several times she paid for this indecision with a flicker of interest and a lewd comment from the passing individual. Just as long as no one tried to touch her, Cassia simply continued on her way.

She couldn't stop looking over her shoulder, constantly scanning her surroundings, afraid someone might mistake her caution for timidity. Her hands ached to grip the hilt of a dagger.

But the more she looked, the more she saw—the more she heard. The squall of a hungry infant, a thick, choking cough, a sob of pain or despair. She passed a block of cheap apartments that had burned to the ground, and found herself unable to look too closely at the rubble.

The smell of urine and vomit choked the air, combining with the coal tang of braziers and the greasy scent of cooking meat. Cassia resisted the urge to cover her nose.

It was almost impossible to believe that, little more than three miles away, such richness as she had always lived with even existed. There was no such thing as silk here. Or gold jewelry. There were no marble tubs or soaps made from jasmine and lilac.

There was barely a notion of comfort here, much less luxury. 

The more Cassia saw, the more the sickness in her stomach grew. How could her father allow this? How could she have allowed herself to be so ignorant of the exact level of misery these people suffered on a daily basis?

Her people.

She had always known that the city was rife with poverty, but she had never experienced for herself the breadth and depth of their destitution. And she had effectively made sure the first time she learned of their struggles was the one time she couldn't do anything to alleviate them.

It was a rather cruel trick of fate.

Cassia struggled to keep walking. She forced herself to ignore the suffering around her as much as she could and continue on her way. There was nothing to be done right now, but it was the first of the important lessons she intended to learn from the world beyond the castle.

                                                                              ***

By the time she found a suitably wide road leading south, the sun was high overhead. Her stomach was tight with hunger pains and the smell of noon meals being cooked made it growl.

Cold, hungry and thoroughly miserable, Cassia folded her arms closer over her waist, trying to find some scrap of warmth for her hands. The smell of salt and fish had joined all the other scents of the city, overwhelming her and making a headache brew just behind her right eye.

Her lips were chapped from the constant wind funneled between the buildings and her hair was in hopeless tangles. Her feet hurt and all she really wanted was to simply stop moving for a mere second.

But she couldn't stop. She hoped she was close. 

Julianus had given her good directions to the tavern. What he had failed to warn her of was the impossibility of moving in a logical way through the city. Then again, he likely had never thought twice about venturing down any of those dark alleys.

Cassia scowled at the ground, hunching her shoulders against another gust of icy wind coming off the harbor. She knew that if she just turned down almost any of those alleys, they would get her to the docks in half the time.

But she wasn't that foolish. She had to force herself to respect the fact that she was no longer one of the nobility. If she were attacked, there would be no guard within shouting distance, no punishment for the transgressor.

And while Vestarin and Julianus both had shown her several hand-to-hand combat techniques, Cassia wouldn't fool herself into thinking that made her somehow invulnerable.

So she was stuck—just like any other person who valued their life—on the main thoroughfares and the wider roads that cut through the city. Which meant the only pace available to her was a slow trudge.

Cassia used it as an opportunity to see the reality of her empire. Conversation and gossip flowed around her. Passing housewives complained about the lack and price of grain, urchins scampered through the small gaps in the crowds their chatter vicious and exuberant, beggars called for the kindness or mercy of passersby.

She had known that the importation of cheap grain from other countries had led to a swelling of the population in the empire's major cities. What she hadn't known was that the grain that had driven so many family farms into the ground—and subsequently pushed so many families into the metropolises—didn't come often enough to properly feed the city's population.

And grain wasn't the only thing that people were wanting for. Fresh vegetables were always in high demand. Fruit and cheese were a luxury. There were even shortages of cotton and wool.

Cassia frowned at the last, wondering why there would be a shortage in such simple cloth. Ultimately she wondered why there was such a shortage of anything in an empire that was so rich.

That puzzlement turned to guilt as she considered the rich breakfast she'd had this morning. As she considered the fact that she had never known what it is to be truly hungry. There were dresses she owned that had only ever been worn once. She had never wanted for anything.

Numbed by this, Cassia continued to move down the road. The mud squelched around her shoes, the hem of her dress turning muddy and wet as she let the crowd sweep her along.

It surprised her when she turned down another road to be hit full in the face by a spear of sunlight and lashed by a salty wind. Sails glowed white in the small gap to the west that she could see and above the chatter of the crowd, she swore she could hear the shouting of sailors and fishermen.

Excitement leapt in her heart and her steps quickened, just to be immediately slowed by the people in front of her. Cassia heaved a sigh, regretting it as she tasted the scent of rotten fish on the back of her tongue.

Trying not to gag, Cassia began eagerly scanning the buildings. The name of the tavern ran circles in her head, like there was some subconscious fear that if she didn't think the words every two seconds, she might forget them.

It'll be on the waterfront, Julianus had said. Then he had leveled a grave stare on her. It's a rough place, for rough men. Speak only to Viloria.

Caius Viloria.

Julianus hadn't really elaborated on why this man would be so accommodating to Cassia. Nervously, she realized that she didn't actually know how accommodating he'd be.

But she trusted Julianus. She trusted him with her life and her heart.

Cassia smiled at that, the expression wobbling. What she wouldn't give for his solid presence at her back. With him beside her, she wouldn't have hesitated for even a second to venture down the more uncertain streets.

For a brief moment, she allowed herself to draw out that fantasy. Julianus was there beside her, her hand tucked into the crook of his elbow as they traveled through the city. Other men no longer dared to so much as look at her. His smile was bright and wicked as he leaned down to whisper in her ear.

Her vision blurred and she blamed it on the wind, dashing at her eyes with the hem of her sleeve as she shook herself from the daydream.

Julianus wasn't here. He was on a ship sailing back to Brunia, and she wouldn't see him for three more years. Possibly longer. He had offered her the little help he could, and that was more than she deserved.

The hiss and crash of waves began to reach her ears, and every now and then she caught a glimpse of sunlight sparkling of steel-blue water. The roads widened out, allowing the passage of wagons and carts ferrying their goods from ship to market. Stalls with the morning's catch began to spring up, the glassy eyes of dead fish staring up at the grey sky.

Silver and blue scales littered the ground, making the roads—once again cobbled—shimmer.

The smell was nearly overwhelming. Cassia had never particularly liked fish to begin with, and the choking scent was making her swear she'd never so much as touch a fin ever again.

Then she realized how ridiculous that sentiment was. She could no longer afford to be picky about what she ate.

The fishmongers shouted over one another, extolling the virtue of their fish over those of their neighbors. Buyers haggled over prices. Smoke rose in the air as many people had their purchases fried right there, to be eaten as they walked.

Despite the nauseating stench of raw fish, her stomach was not immune to the garlic-and-pepper scent of the cooked meals. It snarled at her, demanding something—anything—be put in it.

All Cassia could do was continue to push her way through the crowd, feet slipping on the cobblestones encrusted with fish guts and other refuse, eyes scanning the buildings. She had spotted several taverns already, but none were the one she sought. The afternoon was creeping into its later hours and people were beginning to converge on these meeting places, making her passage toward the end of the road a little easier.

When Cassia reached the waterfront, she couldn't help but stop in awe. Waves crashed against the quays, which extended like fingers of pale stone into the harbor. The docks themselves were a riot of activity, juxtaposed oddly with the serene ships bobbing at their anchorages. 

Most vessels had their sails reefed against the fierce winds, their masts stretching upward like barren trees. Cassia spotted sleek merchant clippers and caravels beside broader brigantines and barques. Sailors scurried up and down the masts and swung from ropes like monkeys, graceful and purposeful despite the fact that death lay just one bad step away.

None of these vessels were as large or as fierce as the galleons and sloops Elias had shown her.

Cassia quickly shied away from the memory. After he had kissed her and proclaimed that he loved her, every moment they had spent together since his return had reshaped itself in her mind. Nothing held the charm of being reunited with a childhood friend anymore, and she felt the keen sting of that loss like the cut of a knife. 

Turning quickly from the ships, Cassia headed doggedly south, trying desperately to avoid heavy wagons and crates being offloaded. Ropes and chains groaned as cranes swung between the ships and the docks, their heavy loads dangling precariously in the air before they were deposited onto the wharf or loaded into the cargo bay of a ship. 

Cassia kept her gaze on the cranes, watching in equal parts horror and fascination as the men on the docks worked to deposit the crates and pallets of goods. They hardly seemed to care that, if a rope or chain were to snap, they'd be turned into a bloody smear on the stones of the quay.

It was much easier to move along the waterfront. There were fewer people, but that didn't make it any less overwhelming. The amount of activity doubled, and it was all Cassia could do to dart between the working men, the stacked crates, the draft horses, wagons and irritable dock masters.

She was so busy slipping around a group of raucous sailors, she very nearly missed what she'd been looking for.

It was a simple stroke of luck that she didn't walk right past it.

Cassia turned her head to warily eye the sailors when they burst into a shanty that made her snicker and blush at the same time. One of them caught her smile and snatched her wrist, twirling her in a few clumsy steps of a dance that matched the tune.

Alarm raced through her at first, made worse by the cheers and whistles that cascaded around them. But then the man twirled her one more time and let her go before continuing on his own way, his friends crowding around him. Grins and blown kisses flew back toward her, prompting her to offer a cautious smile.

When they had disappeared from view, Cassia allowed a soft laugh even though her heart was still racing, and turned back toward the buildings on her left.

There it was. The Raven's Well.

Cassia gasped in surprise and delight when her eyes landed on a faded sign with the carven image of a raven with spread wings, hovering over a well. She darted to the door, then had to flatten herself against the wall to avoid being bowled over by a group spilling out into the street. The smell of sweat and alcohol assaulted her nose, laughter and drunken shouts ringing in her ears.

She watched as the group of men and what she assumed were prostitutes began staggering their way down the row of taverns and squalid inns that lined the waterfront. Then she glanced up at the late afternoon sun in amusement.

They were likely sailors whose ship had come in early that morning if their captain had given them leave to go ashore and get roaring drunk.

After a moment to watch their unsteady progress, Cassia smoothed her hair back from her face as best she could and slipped through the door into the dark tavern. 

Smoke hung thick in the air, dimming the light from candles in iron chandeliers hung from the low ceiling. More candles sat on tables and sconces lined the walls. A fire crackled merrily in a large fireplace on the opposite wall. Tables crowded the main floor, and a bar ran along the southern wall.

The place wasn't exactly packed to bursting, but there were enough people in there to make the air close and hot. After a moment to let her eyes adjust to the lack of light, Cassia began to carefully pick her way toward the bar counter.

Laughter and loud voices battled against each other, making her ears ring. It was almost impossible to hear what anyone was actually saying. Ale and wine flowed freely. Precariously tilted mugs slopped their contents onto the already sticky floor. She could smell something being cooked, and was just glad when it wasn't fish, though beyond that she couldn't actually tell what it might be.

At first, no one seemed to notice her and she made easy if slow progress to the bar. It was honestly rather silly how unused she was to making her way through a group of people. Her whole life, everyone else had always stepped to the side.

She was very nearly there when a large, balding man stood up abruptly, stepping right into her path. There was nothing she could do to avoid him. Cassia slammed against his chest before stumbling backwards. She didn't get far before he grabbed her arm, steadying her.

Cassia shook the hair from her face and looked up at the man, who grinned down at her, revealing yellowed, crooked teeth.

"Well, gents," he said, glee evident in his eyes, "looks like the old man's taken our advice on the quality of the whores he brings 'round."

Before Cassia could so much as blink, she was jerked forward, away from the bar and into a group of men who looked too soft to be sailors or soldiers. Merchants, perhaps? All she knew was that she was suddenly the main focus of more than half a dozen hungry gazes.

There was a general murmur of agreement that she was, in fact, much finer than the usual women.

A hand boldly squeezed her backside and she whirled around, but was unable to tell who had touched her. Her mind raced, eyes darting from one man to the next. They had cut off her path to the bar, and she didn't want to draw any more attention to herself than she already had. Something told her it would cause more harm than help.

Another hand traced the curve of her hip, someone else's fingers touching a lock of her hair. Cassia stood frozen for a moment. Several lewd comments were made, followed by a few terrifying suggestions as to what should be done with her.

Think. She needed to think.

Then a hand grabbed her wrist and jerked her backwards into a hard body. The hilt of a sword jabbed into her lower back. A low, gravelly voice said, "None of you know what to do with a woman like this. Why don't you run along and leave her to me."

A hiss of dislike ran through the group of merchants.

Terror swamped her. She turned and lashed out, driving a fist squarely into the man's mouth. Pain laced through her knuckles and up her hand, but he let her go, swearing in surprise.

Hoots and jeers filled the air, more hands grabbing her as she tried to burst free of the group. Fingers clawed at her dress and hair. Someone caught her around the waist and she snarled when hands began to run freely over her body.

The first man who had touched her—the one with the bad teeth—sneered at a hooded and cloaked figure who had a hand covering his mouth. "Looks like she'd rather stay with us, Corax."

Cassia thrashed against the hands holding her in place, driving her feet and elbows into any available bit of flesh. Finally, someone let out a choked yelp and the hold on her loosened.

She stumbled forward, back toward the hooded man, then jerked herself to a halt. Her chest heaved and her hands were shaking. Her mind had finally kicked back into action.

"I'm here to speak with Caius Viloria," she croaked, and the hooded man turned toward her, his hand dropping back to his side. Blood shone on his index finger. "I am no whore."

Laughter burst out from several of the men. One of them reached over and stroked her cheek. "A tasty morsel like yourself has no other reason to be here." His hand went down to her breast. "We'll make it worth your while. No need to play hard to get."

Cassia smacked his hand away, a snarl curling her lip. The man scowled and reached for her again, but stopped dead when the flat of a blade gently smacked his forearm.

She blinked, then let her gaze wander up the blade to the hand it rested in. The hand was attached to the hooded man. Most of his face was still hidden by the hood, but the grim set of his mouth left Cassia in no doubt that he knew what he was doing with that sword.

His voice even rougher, he said, "You heard the lady. She's here to speak with Viloria." A smirk suddenly tugged at his mouth. "You wouldn't want to interfere with his business. Especially not with that shipment you've been looking for."

Cassia's eyes widened as the group of merchants became suddenly subdued. They backed away from her and Corax who stepped forward, using his body to herd her away. She heard the quiet hiss of a sword being returned to its scabbard.

So stunned was she by this rapid turn of events that she couldn't even balk as he began steering her toward the bar.

Then one of the men she passed leered. "When she's done with you and Viloria, bring her back down, won't you? After she fucks you, she'll be begging for a real man, not just half of one."

The movement was so quick, Cassia didn't actually see anything but a blur of silver. Then there was a thud and a scream rent the air. Every head turned to them.

Slowly, Cassia looked down to find a knife protruding from the back of the leering man's hand. Blood trickled down to his wrist as he jerked in agony, but the knife held him fast to the wood of the table.

Calmly, Corax swept them past. Over his shoulder, he said, "That knife best be the only thing here by the time I come back down, Servius."

Nobody moved to stop them as Corax continued to nudge her toward the bar. Cassia stumbled forward, her mind still attempting to process what had just happened. The leering man's screams were still echoing in her ears as they passed the bar and started up a narrow, rickety staircase.

When they reached the landing, Cassia stopped dead. Turning, she gave Corax an uneasy glare. "I need to speak with Caius Viloria. I will deal with no one else."

"Who told you to ask for that name?" he responded, his gravelly voice sending a nervous tremor up her spine. Her gaze flicked to the sword barely hidden by the cloak he still wore.

"I was instructed to deal only with Viloria," she repeated.

Corax stepped forward, towering over her. "That's all well and good, but the only way to get to Viloria is by convincing me."

His hand flashed out and latched around her throat, driving her back into the wall. That gravelly voice whispered in her ear, "I've seen plenty of thieves and assassins prettier than you, girl." His fingers tightened. "Who told you to ask for that name?"

Cassia clawed at the hand on her throat, trying to push Corax away. He simply leaned forward a little farther, his weight crushing her into the wall.

"Julianus," she finally choked, spots dancing before her eyes. "General Calix Julianus."

"General Julianus?" Surprise tinged the man's voice, his fingers loosening. 

Cassia sucked in a breath and brought her knee sharply up. It missed her intended target, instead driving into Corax's midsection. A huff of expelled breath ruffled her hair, but he didn't double over or back away. Instead, he grabbed her arm in a vice-like grip and began yanking her down the hallway.

Struggling and swearing, Cassia managed to rain several blows on the side of his face and jaw before he swore in frustration. He whirled her around, his arm wrapping around her like a bar of steel before he proceeded to drag her down the hallway.

A door was kicked open and Corax hissed, "Out! Get out!"

Someone scurried past them, muttering something Cassia couldn't make out.

Cassia let out a scream of rage and fear before she was shoved backwards to promptly land in a hard chair. It teetered wildly under her, before a hand was placed on the chair's arm, slamming it back to the ground.

Corax leaned over her and spat, "How do you know Julianus?"

So, I changed the name of the tavern for reasons ;)

But more importantly, Heir of the Gods recently reached over 1K votes and that is entirely because of you amazing, amazing people who have given this madness of mine a chance <3 thank you so, so much.