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“Thank you, Andrzej.” She flashed him a smile and his cheeks reddened.

The fiddler squeaked on a high note, but everyone was too drunk to notice. Dagmara took a sip of the Kvas, having the perfect view of Jacek from her spot at the bar. She eyed him over the rim of her glass, waiting for her moment. Her sheathed dagger pressed into her waist underneath her cloak, and her bodice was laced with throwing stars. However, if she did this correctly, she wouldn’t have to use either of those weapons. Instead, she had her potions pouch.

The bar shook as someone slammed their palm against it. Dagmara snapped her head to view the commotion. The barkeeper was standing on his step stool to be at eye level with a patron—yet he was still a few inches shorter than the man across the bar.

“I do not serve Ilusaurians in this tavern! Go back to your mad king!” The barkeep wagged his finger in the man’s face. It was the attractive man she had the fortune of bumping into earlier.

The foreigner’s voice was sonorous. “Surely you can make an exception.”

This could not get out of hand. If anyone else knew there was an Ilusaurian at the tavern, there would undoubtedly be a fight, and she didn’t need the town knights to make the crowd disperse. She wouldn’t risk losing Jacek. Not yet.

“Andrzej,” Dagmara called.

The barkeep bounced at his name. “Yes, milady?” His raspy voice croaked, struggling to yell over the chaotic patrons.

“Give the man what he wants.”

“But he is an Ilusaurian!”

Dagmara slipped her hand inside her cloak and withdrew three golden coins. They were thin between her fingers, and she faintly could feel the raised outline of the elk, her kingdom’s symbolic animal. She set them on the bar in front of her, sliding them in his direction.

Andrzej’s eyes widened. He hopped off the stepstool and rushed over, greedily snatching the coins as though they would disappear if he hadn’t grabbed them in time. “For you, milady, anything.” Andrzej gave her a smile, showing a full set of yellow teeth.

He wasn’t doing it for her, he was doing it for the coin.

“And here I thought Azuremi women despised the Ilusaurian.” The man’s voice was deep with a thick Ilusaurian accent, but he retained a hint of humor.

Was everyone from Ilusauri this attractive?

The thought struck her, and she instantly shoved it from her mind.

He started to reach into his pocket.

“I don’t want your money,” Dagmara said.

His hand froze halfway inside his pocket. “You paid him double.”

“I did.”

“Where did you get so much coin?”

Dagmara sat taller on the barstool. “It is not polite to ask where a woman gets her money.”

“Hmm,” the young man mused. He pulled the empty barstool beside her closer to him and sat down. “I’m not surprised. You are stunning, with the curves to capture any man in this room. I’m sure you make a lot every night.”

For a moment she was flattered, her cheeks turning bright red. Then her jaw dropped. “I am not a prostitute.”

The man raised his hands defensively. “Forgive me, I was mistaken. I’m simply impressed by your generosity.”

“I’m impressed by your Azuremi.” Whoever this man was, he had training in foreign languages. That could only mean he was wealthy or came from a noble background.

The side of his cheek rose into a smirk. “Oh, a compliment. Are you flirting with me?”

Dagmara snapped her head away, taking a large gulp of Kvas and spotting Jacek in the crowd once more. It calmed her to see him in the same spot he had been moments ago.

“My name is Sabien,” the young man introduced himself, a melodic tone to his rich voice. “You are?”

“Dagmara.”