❝The smell of whiskey and sweat clung to his shirt like a second skin, the lure of reinvention peeling back the layers between his heart and his mind.❞

In his torn state, Lester had managed to commit the highest sin known to man: a cliché act. It had been two days since his chat with Evanna Keegan. He was packed and ready, with no particularly good plan in sight.

Part of him felt bad for ditching the palace a week after his mate, but the other half held no remorse as a result of his heart nearly going up in flames every time he swore he looked and saw her doing something in the corner of his wing.

His family had come to watch as he'd pulled out the map and pinned it to a bulletin board, the royal territories sitting against the wall. With a halfhearted effort, he aimed a dart and let it sail until it hit the mark, a rural village on the edge of the territories.

Nyore. A small population that likely contained people that weren't well informed enough to know his face or his name. Internet had only become accessible to cities recently if at all. He could be there in just a few hours.

Traveling for his own pleasure had always been something he'd secretly dreamt about but had never gotten the chance to do. Spontaneity was a privilege incompatible with royal life. Yet, here he was, something that encompassed both and undermined everything he'd ever known.

Lester couldn't wait.

For the first time in a long time, he was excited about something he was doing. Lester didn't dwell on the guilt, nor did he choose to stop and think about his selfishness.

He was leaving the palace.

The air tasted sharp and cool on his tongue. With serenity that could put other regions in the Royal Territories to shame, Nyore was unbelievably peaceful. The forest around him shuddered in the wind and wolf tracks pattered the disturbed soil.

Lester took his first full breath since Dahlia had left him behind, the fresh air filling his lungs.

This would be his first time living outside of the palace, and he was more or less alone. With some hard bargaining, Eva and Cayce had somehow rented two neighboring fully furnished cabins in an isolated area. Lester squinted. He could barely see the other cabin at all.

Apprehension crept beneath his skin. In an attempt not to dwell on it, Lester went inside the cabin. He took a quick look around. The cabin was livable and cozy, so he didn't have many complaints. He put on some music and started to unpack.

Once finished with the two suitcases he'd brought, Lester got to work, fumbling with his bedding and cleaning the space as best he could. He was ashamed to admit that he barely knew how to do it all, but determination pushed through until he felt that he'd scrubbed every inch of the house. It smelled like fresh wood and herb cleaner by the time he was done with it, everything laid out in opposition to how things had been at the palace. It was refreshing.

Lester imagined this was what women saw in home décor – everything being under control and in one space was very gratifying.

The lack of work was not.

Lester allowed himself to rest frustratedly, his mind wandering as he sank into the pillows of his couch. What is it that normal people do for fun?

He ran through his options in his head. It was late, so there wouldn't be much open in a small town...except for a bar, club, or party.

He needed to meet the locals anyways. It was a no-brainer.

Lester trekked through the woods to the smaller, neighboring cabin. He rapped at the door impatiently.

After a few minutes, Ayden Briney opened the door reluctantly, frowning when he saw Lester's excitedly tentative smile. He had been Don's best friend and an honorary member of the Raure family for a long time, as well as one of their best warriors. He'd come to Nyore because Lester had – to provide him protection.

Or something. It was rare that a guard was allowed an opportunity like this to travel, and Ayden had offered.

"What is it, bud?" Ayden asked with a yawn, pointing a thumb back inside his smaller cabin. "I was just planning on crashing."

Lester's confidence dwindled. Was that a no? "I was planning on heading to the nearest local bar."

Ayden did the most fraudulent risk assessment ever was, poking his head outside and looking left and right. "You're all good. Safe. No danger. Confirmed. Have a nice night."

"Wha—" The door slammed shut in Lester's face, and he raised his eyebrows. Alright, then. That was a vote of confidence if there had ever been one.

He could fight well enough. So long as he knew where he was going everything would be okay. Probably.

Lester went back into his cabin, grabbing his wallet, keys, and a map. Memorizing the drive, he left his things in the passenger seat as the engine roared to life. Fifteen minutes down after he turned onto the main road, he spotted his nightly affair in full swing, parking and stepping out.

Even small towns knew how to entertain themselves. Just what he'd been looking for.

Wherever Lester went, heads turned, and whispers followed, making him feel self-conscious. The only reason he didn't bolt was the knowledge that small towns supposedly had a major case of gossip culture. Still, the attention freaked him out. Lester quickly found himself at the back end of the bar, ordering a drink and an appetizer as he observed the night life.

He needed to loosen up. This was Nyore, not the palace. No one was going to recognize him. Right? Lester sipped his beer, unconvinced.

He was on his second beer when someone interrupted him. "Is this seat taken?"

Lester spun to take note of the brunette behind him, who cocked her head impatiently as she gestured to the stool beside him. Hesitantly, he nodded, and she sat down. Her was sharp and clear as she ordered whiskey on the rocks, the bartender nodding to the beat of the music.

The brunette leaned closer so he could hear her over the music, her narrowed eyes piercing as they met his own. Her accent came through strongly enough, making her words seem harsher than they were. "Hey, newbie. How long are you here for? No one comes down to Nyore without a reason, and no one ever stays."

Lester couldn't tell if she was flirting or trying to intimidate him, reclining a bit on his stool as his hackles raised. "Yeah, I'm new. I'll be around for a bit, actually. Good to know that all of the locals recognize an outsider when they see one."

"Your accent's funny," she informed him tactlessly as she took her drink and swallowed half of it. Her subsequent burp made her laugh, and she did so without care for etiquette. "Anyways, you need friends if you're new, right? I'm Charlyn Woulkha. Let me show you around sometime."

Lester stuck out his hand to meet her fist bump, fascinated at the way she conducted herself. He almost stumbled over his fake name as his eyes met hers. "Eles Raun. Nice to meet you."

Charlyn gave him a wicked smile as she bumped her whiskey glass to his beer, taking a sip. She mouthed the lyrics, but her laugh was discernable as she downed the rest of her drink. She brushed his cheek as she moved past him, her breath tickling his ear. "My pleasure, babe. Come dance."

⋄

thoughts? gut instincts? i'm honestly expecting some strong feelings about this chapter. 

did you see this coming? any upcoming theories?

reading this chapter to jazz or soft indie is a different experience i think, if anyone has the time to give it a try. i recommend Puma Blue. let me know how it goes if you end up doing it. i wrote this chapter to it, so i think it fits the mood <33