It didn't take long for me to find a small tavern.

  I was about to push open the door when a voice called out behind me.

  "Vera?"

  That voice was familiar. I turned around.

  Derrick stood a few feet away, arms crossed, looking just as surprised to see me as I was to see him. He was out of his guard armor, wearing simple civilian clothes. He looked... somewhat different without the gear. Younger, somehow. I think.

  "Derrick?" I blinked. "I thought you were with the caravan."

  "I am. Well, was." He scratched the back of his neck. "Hugo dismissed us. Said he's hiring new guards in Ashborough for the rest of the trip to Valenhall. Wanted locals who knew the southern routes better."

  "Huh."

  "Yeah." He shrugged, though something flickered across his face. Disappointment, maybe. "It's fine. This is Ashborough. I know people here. I'll find work."

  An awkward silence settled between us.

  "So," Derrick said, nodding toward the tavern. "You eating?"

  "Was about to."

  "Mind if I join? I haven't had a decent meal in days either."

  I hesitated for a second, then shrugged. "Sure."

  We went inside together.

  The tavern was warm and loud. We found a small table near the corner, away from the main crowd. Nox settled outside near the door, visible through the window.

  The barkeep brought us menus—well, not really menus. Just a chalkboard on the wall listing what was available. Stew, roasted chicken, bread, ale.

  I ordered the stew and water. Derrick got the chicken and ale.

  We ate in silence for a while. The food was good. Hot, filling, way better than anything I'd had on the road. I was halfway through my bowl before I even looked up.

  Derrick was picking at his chicken, not really eating. Just moving pieces around his plate.

  Something was bothering him.

  I watched him for a moment, then went back to my stew. If he wanted to say something, he'd say it. I wasn't about to pry.

  Another minute passed. He set his fork down.

  "Vera."

  "Mm?"

  He was quiet for a moment, staring at his plate. Then he took a breath.

  "I wanted to..." He stopped. Started again. "Look, I'm not good at this."

  I raised an eyebrow but said nothing. Let him figure it out.

  Derrick rubbed the back of his neck, looking uncomfortable. "Thank you. For saving us back there. For saving the caravan." He met my eyes. "If you hadn't been there, we'd all be dead.

  "You don't have to—"

  "I'm not done." He said it firmly, then looked almost embarrassed at his own tone. He sighed. "I also... owe you an apology."

  "When you first joined the caravan, I didn't exactly roll out the welcome mat." He winced. “I was an ass about it."

  "Yeah," I said. "You were."

  He let out a short laugh.

  The Derrick I'd met at the start of the escort had been cold, dismissive. I hadn't liked him much.

  I certainly didn’t expect him to do this.

  "Apology accepted,"

  The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.

  Let bygones be bygones. No point holding grudges against someone who'd just apologize sincerely.

  He looked relieved. "Thanks."

  "But for what it's worth," I added, "you're a good guard and your men trust you.”

  "Yeah?"

  "Yeah."

  We sat in silence after that, both eating.

  Derrick finished his chicken and leaned back, taking another swig of ale. Things were now comfortable between us. We talked about small stuff. Nothing important.

  Then a group of men stumbled over.

  There were four of them. Soldiers by the look of their half-undone uniforms, clearly off-duty. And very, very drunk. Their faces were flushed red, eyes glazed, grins too wide.

  "Well, well," the tallest one slurred, leaning against our table with one hand. He looked me up and down, slow and deliberate. "What do we have here? Haven't seen you around before, pretty thing."

  I didn't look up from my stew. "Walk away."

  "Ooh, feisty." He laughed, nudging one of his friends. "I like feisty." He leaned closer. "Come on, don't be like that. Let me buy you a drink."

  "I said walk away."

  "Come on, sweetheart. Loosen up a bit." Another one of them pulled up a chair uninvited, sitting way too close. His breath reeked of cheap ale. "We just got off a long shift. Just want to have a good time."

  I sighed.

  This was the first time something like this had happened to me since arriving in this world. Back on Earth, it wasn't exactly new. Happened more often than I wanted to admit, especially at bars or events. I'd dealt with it enough times to know the routine.

  But it had been a while since. I'd almost forgotten what it felt like.

  Annoying.

  "The lady told you to walk away," Derrick said, his voice dropping low. He hadn't moved, hadn't even turned around, but his posture shifted.

  The tall one glanced at Derrick, then back at me. "Is this your boyfriend or something? Because he doesn't have to be here for—"

  "He's not my boyfriend, but he's right. I told you to leave. That's your last warning."

  The drunk soldier laughed again, loud and obnoxious, drawing looks from nearby tables. "Warning? From who? You?" He grinned. "What are you going to do about it?"

  I looked up at him.

  Something in my expression must have gotten through, even through the haze of alcohol. His grin faltered, just slightly.

  "Try me."

  The tall one reached out and grabbed my wrist.

  He didn't get the chance.

  I caught his hand with my other hand and squeezed. Just my fingers, wrapping around his knuckles. Tightening.

  His grin vanished instantly. His eyes went wide as he felt the pressure. I wasn't even trying. Not really. They were small fries after all.

  I twisted his wrist slightly. Not enough to break anything but just enough to hurt.

  He yelped, stumbling back. I let go.

  He cradled his hand against his chest, face red, suddenly looking very sober. "What the hell—"

  I didn't even get to respond.

  The guy who'd been sitting too close lunged at me. Drunk, stupid, probably trying to defend his friend's pride more than anything. His fist came swinging wide, sloppy, completely slow.

  I sidestepped and drove my elbow into his stomach. He doubled over with a wheeze and dropped to his knees.

  The other two hesitated for a split second, looking at their fallen friends. Then, because alcohol apparently made people forget basic self-preservation, they both charged.

  The first one threw a punch. I caught his fist mid-air, redirected his momentum, and shoved him into the second one. They collided hard, stumbling over each other and crashing into a nearby table.

  The tavern had gone dead silent.

  Everyone was staring though none of them moved to intervene.

  The four drunks lay in various states of groaning and recovering on the floor. None of them looked interested in getting back up.

  I sat back down and picked up my spoon like nothing had happened.

  Derrick was staring at me, mouth slightly open.

  “What?”

  "That was..."

  "Annoying," I finished for him.

  "I was going to say impressive."

  "Eh." I shrugged. "Happens more than it should."

  The tall one finally dragged himself up, still holding his wrist. He took one look at me, then at his friends, then stumbled toward the door without a word. The others followed, one of them half-carrying the guy I'd elbowed.

  The tavern slowly returned to its normal. Someone near the bar actually started laughing.

  Derrick shook his head, a smile tugging at his mouth. "remind me to never get on your bad side."

  I just smiled back.

  =====

  We left the tavern after finishing our meal. Derrick headed off to find work at the local guild hall, giving me a nod before disappearing into the crowd.

  I was alone again.

  Well, not entirely alone. Nox was waiting right where I'd left him, tail doing that subtle wag when he saw me approach, then we started walking, heading toward the southern gate.

  I was walking through a narrow side street when someone bumped into me. Hard. A robed figure, moving fast, nearly knocked me sideways.

  "Hey, watch where you're—"

  But they were already gone. The robed figure had taken off down the street, disappearing around a corner before I could even get a good look at them.

  I stood there for a second, mildly annoyed.

  "Rude," I muttered.

  Nox glanced in the direction the figure had gone, ears perked.

  I kept walking.

  A few minutes later, a roadside stall caught my eye. Jerky.

  This one actually looked decent—seasoned, thick cut, hanging in neat strips from hooks , not the dry, tasteless stuff I'd been eating on the road.

  My stomach perked up at the sight.

  "How much for a pack?" I asked the vendor, already reaching for my coin pouch.

  My hand found nothing.

  I patted my belt. Nothing. I checked the other side. Checked my pockets. Checked again.

  Gone.

  My coin pouch was gone.

  I stood there, hand frozen mid-air, staring at nothing.

  The robed figure.

  "Son of a..."

  Nox let out a low whine, sensing my sudden shift in mood.

  I'd just gotten paid. Five gold from Hugo, minus what I'd spent on armor and supplies. There should have been at least two gold and change left in that pouch.

  All gone. Just like that.

  Great. Absolutely great.

  I'd survived bandits, monsters, and adventurers, and I'd just gotten pickpocketed like a rookie on her first day in town.

  I pinched the bridge of my nose and let out a long breath.

  "Wonderful," I said to Nox. "Just wonderful."