10h • ✍️ Daily Write
6/28 Kingdoms Lost Rewrite.
Getting a bit behind with this!
Someone recommended Dabble to me and I am trying the 14 day free trial. So far its great! I decided to add all my notes etc and rewrite, tighten Kingdoms Lost. So this is the opening now, edited and tightened.
Smoke hung in the air, thick with the stench of sweat and stale beer. She stepped into it as Hegard smiled and nodded a greeting.
“Be with you shortly, lass.”
She slung her pack from her shoulders and set it at her feet, keeping her sword buckled firmly in place. It wasn’t the worst tavern on the road, but men and beer often ended in violence.
“You want the usual?” Hegard asked, grabbing a tankard from the shelf behind him.
“You mean you have something different?”
He chuckled and shook his head, drawing the ale slowly to create a perfect frothy hea, just the way she liked it. At least he kept a good barrel. She was hot, thirsty, and in need of something cool.
“It’s busy,” she said as he placed the tankard before her. “Any food left?”
“Soup and bread is about all.”
“That’ll do.”
“You wanting a room? Only the attic’s free.”
“I’ll take it. What’s going on?”
“There’ve been reports of dragons in the mountains. All these daft swines think they’ve a chance of killing one!”
She raised an eyebrow as she drank. “Perhaps I’ll stay awhile. Might be entertaining.”
Hegard smirked and grabbed another proffered tankard. She stayed at the bar rather than find a table. Most were taken anyway.
The crowd was a strange mix: local farmers, two tall, white-haired elves in quiet discussion with an elderly well-dressed man, and two tables of dwarves, the rowdiest of all, bellowing a drinking song about wenches, gold, and mining for good measure.
In a shadowed corner beside the chimney breast, a lone hooded figure bent over his drink.
He looked up.
She quickly turned back to her ale. The skin along her neck prickled. He was watching her.
Stay calm, she told herself, forcing slow, steady breaths.
A bowl of soup and a hunk of bread appeared before her.
“You all right there, Janen?”
“Just starving quietly,” she replied with a grin. “Who’s the mystery man in the corner?”
“No idea. Arrived just after four and hasn’t moved since. Only bought two drinks. Pushing his luck. Can I pay you to turf him out?”
She blew on the soup, hiding the shiver running down her spine. “He doesn’t seem to be bothering anyone.”
“He’s bothering my purse!”
Hegard stomped off to pull another pint.
She ate too quickly, scalding her throat. The man’s gaze burned between her shoulder blades. If he didn’t stop...
She pushed the bowl aside and drained her ale. She could hide. Or she could confront him. She’d never been good at hiding.
She pushed back her stool, swung her pack over one shoulder, and crossed the room, watching for any reaction. If he expected flirtation, her directness might unsettle him.
He didn’t move.
Up close, she could see only shoulder-length brown curls and a short beard beneath the hood’s shadow. His hands rested on the table, well away from any weapons.
He watched her.
Was this a mistake?
As she neared, he lifted his left hand and gestured to the seat opposite. She sat, feigning confidence.
“What do you want?” she asked quietly.
“I know who you are.”
Cold flooded her skull. Her heart hammered in time with the dwarves’ song.
“Less confident now, Princess?”
She hissed and drew her sword beneath the table, pressing the point between his legs.
He inhaled sharply, then leaned forward, mouth a thin line in the hood’s shadow.
“You could do that. But killing me would draw attention. And those two elves,” he tilted his head slightly “have been commissioned by Lord Whatsit over there to track you down. It might be wiser to listen.”
He pushed back his hood just enough for her to see his eyes.
Her blade dipped.
“Fuck,” she whispered.
He blinked, startled for only a heartbeat, before lowering the hood again, the corner of his mouth twitching upwards. “I don’t think this is the time or place.”
A wry smile? “I thought you were dead,” she said softly, fighting emotion.
“I am. In the same way you are. But we don’t have time for that. I have news you need to hear. Our destiny has become entwined again. It’s time to reclaim what’s ours.”
“That’s not destiny. It’s a death wish.”
“Let’s not argue semantics. You leave first. I’ll meet you in the stables. They have no idea who you are.” He nodded toward the elves. “Let’s keep it that way. I’ll explain once we’re riding.”
“How do I know you won’t hand me over the moment my back’s turned?”
He sighed. “Really, Kintra? Why would I ever put you in more danger than you’re already in?”
The use of her real name struck harder than anything else.
“I’ve been home,” he continued. “The lands are still barren. Our people starve. And there’s more I won’t discuss here. We survive now by standing on the same side.”
“I’ve survived perfectly well alone. Have you come to reclaim my hand in marriage? Fold my kingdom into yours?”
He flinched. Pain flickered across his face before hardening again.
“What kingdom?”
Those words cut.
Helian had done nothing wrong. He wasn’t her enemy. He was a shock, a ghost from a past she’d buried. And hoped to forget.
She sheathed her sword and stood. At the bar, she collected her key without looking back. His gaze followed her.
But at the entrance hall, blocked from his view, she veered outside toward the stable yard instead.
Sorrel lifted her head from the hay.
“Sorry, old girl,” she murmured, saddling quickly.
Two minutes later, she was galloping up the hill behind the tavern, heading for Ferman Forest.
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6/28 Kingdoms Lost Rewrite.
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