When I returned to my room, for some reason, I felt restless despite being tired from the fights, yet I didn't really want to do anything. I kept rolling around on my bed, trying to focus on various things. Be it how to improve the training with the guards, what I could have done better during the recent fights in the arena, or how to get closer to the young son of the duke and his family, any thought seemed to elude me, and I easily found myself distracted thinking about useless things.

At one point, after looking at a fly buzzing around the room for what were probably twenty minutes, I tried to entertain the idea of going over my language lessons. After only a few minutes of practice, though, I found myself trying to juggle the scented wooden pyramids that I had put on my table.

Soon the sun started to set, and with it dinner came and went, yet I still felt restless and at the same time as lazy as a sloth. It was while I was trying to turn the hemp sace I was given to bring my clothes home to make a supersized sock puppet that I finally had an idea.

I exited my room with a few gold coins on me and went towards the gates of the estate. The guards there immediately questioned where I was going, to witch I simply responded, "drinking," while mimicking the motion with my hand.

The two guards looked at each other for a second, then one asked me to please wait a second before rushing into the manor. Since he had asked nicely and I was in no hurry, I decided to wait there, with the more and more nervous remaining guard.

He returned shortly after, with Yvonne following him. Slowly, and trying to make sure I would understand, they explained me that she would be my guide so that I wouldn't risk getting lost, or in trouble.

I was fine with it, and having some sort of familiar face around was still better than nothing. Yvonne was also starting to get used to me by now, and only jumped a bit if I made some sudden movement or raised my voice, something that usually happened without me even noticing. So we departed for our odd girls night out.

She guided me away from the upper district, which had little in terms of businesses, and into the area closer to the daily market, which seemed to be the true heart of the city life. People were mingling about everywhere through the streets, some drinking from wooden cups, some playing simple games on improvised tables. Every now and then a man could be seen entering a building with a scantily dressed woman under his arm.

As we started going through the more busy streets, people would sometimes call out to me, often by name, and raise their cups to me, or cheer at me in other way in the lack of one. I already had an idea about the popularity of gladiators in the city, but the more matches I was part of, the more it seemed like good free gladiators enjoyed the same fame of famous football players inside the city. The fact that after only three matches people would already call out to me like that was testament to that fact.

Yvonne kept walking, guiding me through the busy streets until we reached what seemed to be the largest tavern around. As to why she had decided on that particular tavern, it became fairly obvious once I noticed how it seemed to be the only one to have the first floor taller than nine feet in the vicinity, and a door frame that I could easily pass through.

I pushed the saloon doors open and entered the building. As soon as I entered I was hit by the loud chatting of the multitude of customers sitting on the wooden benches of the many tables on the floor. The sound of a violin and a melodious voice filled the room, managing to be heard over the voices. I looked at the stage, where a young woman with red skin and long black hair was playing the energizing tune. A pair of brown horns started from her temples and curved over her head, above a pair of pointed ears. Her completely yellow eyes devoid of any iris or pupil were fixed on her violin. She was wearing dark blue robes that tightened around her torso, enhancing her curves, and a pair of black boots. A muscular red tail ending in a spearhead shape waved behind her back following the rhythm of the music.

I froze for a second seeing what looked like a demon playing in a tavern, but I soon had my attention grabbed by an old plump barmaid who came to us and told us to follow her. She guided us through the tables until we reached one closer to the back that had only two men, who looked to be in their forties sitting at it.

As we went by, the diners turned their attention to us, sometimes whispering among each others. Hearing how the volume in the hall had lowered, the musician looked up from her violin and met my gaze, smiling at me.

After we sat down at the table, the customers slowly returned to their chatting, while the barmaid asked for our order. Since I still didn't know much about the customs of the city, or what the establishment offered, I told Yvonne, "you ask. For you too. I pay. I want drink and small food."

She nodded, and got to talk with the barmaid, ordering for the both of us. When the barmaid left the table, having taken our orders, the two men at the table with us tried to start a conversation with us. They were dressed in pretty good clothing, suggesting they were probably merchants or the owners of some business. Their body language suggested friendly curiosity rather than flirting, so I wasn't too bothered by it. It also helped that they made an effort to speak slower and using easy to understand words after my, "I no speak well."

The barmaid returned shortly after bringing with her two cups of ale and a tray with various types of cheese, bread, and some fried battered vegetables. I stopped her before she went away and, using my broken language, asked her for some meat too.

The cheese was really good, but my taste buds had grown unused to the taste of vegetables after living so long on the mountains, although I found that what looked like fried carrots were an exception. Still, I was really glad when she brought another tray, this time filled with various cured cold cuts and more bread.

I was somewhat surprised when, before leaving the tray on the table, she asked to pay immediately. I simply gave her a gold coin, and ordered a second round of ale for all the table, since by then our cups had run dry.

After the second cup of strong ale, conversation became somewhat easier and the language barrier thinner. I soon found myself telling stories of my hunts back on the mountains to whom I now knew were a baker famous for his sweets and a spice merchant.

At the fifth cup I found myself spinning Yvonne around in the area empty of tables that served as dance floor at the tune of the violin, without even trying to give to what we were doing the semblance of an organized dance.

At the twelfth cup I had all but forgotten the sadness and restlessness that remembering Tasha during my fight had made surface in me.