Manuel held the chipped glass to his lips, letting his tongue taste a pinch of the bitter wine that was given to him. He tilted his head back, almost as if he was in a trance, but his cousin, Lena, knew him better than that. Loose strands of his uncut beige tresses fell on his sides, masking the shiny gold studs which he had bought from an illegal jewels trader and parts of his left eye. 

The glass archway was cold, colder than usual and Manuel''s old and worn out fur coat swept the tiled floor. He had stolen it nearly eight years ago from a man at Cavevalley's brothel. A wisp of wind trailed past the arch and danced around his figure as a new customer entered the bar.

Soft clouds floated past the arch into the white moonlit sky, and Manuel visibly took another sip from his drink, glancing at the men who were flocking into the bar like sheep to its pen. He shook his head, twirling the glass within his fingers, bored at the lack of an interesting face.

Cavevalley's local bar was situated in a deserted street by the mountains where the extra yields of the year were usually stored. Despite its desolate location, it was quite popular among the locals, much more than it's exquisite competitor, Dandelion, run by the Village Chief. His work there had been more pulsing, with the presence of rich men clad in fine silks and jewelry, a walking attraction. He would've gone there again today, if he hadn't given into Lena's pleading gestures and agreed to try his luck here.

"Looks like we've got no luck today," Manuel said, trying to dissuade Lena and send her back home. Despite the fact that he was her cousin, her family considered him their own and he followed her mother's words like they were the wind and sea that eroded him. Manuel always discouraged their line of work like her mother did, and tried to talk Lena out of it, but both of them knew that without it they wouldn't be able to survive in the changing kingdom. Manuel knew that Lena was not one to give up, she was not going home penniless. Not when she had a dying mother, a crippled brother, and an eight-year-old sister to take care of.

Manuel's eyes trailed past the gamblers who were sitting in front of him and landed at the figure of a man who was trying to ease his way through the crowd. His tall figure and broad shoulders stood out amidst the people but his golden eyes were what caught his attention. The man's eyes danced around the room, lingering on each individual, almost as though he was searching for someone. Manuel found the behaviour extremely suspicious.

Manuel calculated the possibilities of what he might be doing. The umbrella clutched in his hand was obviously a ruse; it had been ages since rain had struck Cavevalley. The man left his umbrella in the old stand that was near the counter, chose a table far away from the crowd gathering around the group of gamblers, and ordered a drink. Manuel kept his eyes on him and scanned the entire bar, searching for someone whom he might have come to meet.

His eyes widened a fraction when he saw one of the onlookers of the gambling circle advance towards the counter, his drink clutched in his hand. He looked his age, maybe a bit more, with curly locks as dark as the midnight sun. 

Manuel squinted a little, narrowing his gaze at the skin that formed the valleys of his collarbone. A phoenix was engraved on it, it's feathers as dark as a raven's coat. Surely, it was a royal. Manuel's heart accelerated. Royals were a rare sight in the streets of Cavevalley.

The royal placed his glass on the counter with some coins next to it and weaved through the keys that were hung in a hook, right above the umbrella stand. Manuel watched him squint his eyes to check if anyone had seen his suspicious behavior. 

The man turned and twisted the umbrella handle discreetly, pulling out a piece of paper. He glanced at the paper for a moment in silence, then dropped a gold nugget he had dug from his coat pockets into the umbrella, and took very cautious and intentional steps out of the bar.

Manuel noticed the corners of Lena's mouth twitch into a smirk. She had finally found her victim for the night. She kicked Manuel's leather boots harshly and he turned towards her with an inquisitive look, as though he hadn't witnessed anything. 

"What?" he asked, chugging down the last of his drink. He stopped his actions midway when he glanced at the mischievous look she gave him. Lena tilted her head towards the umbrella and twitched her eyebrows in its direction, dropping Manuel a hint. She didn't seem to realize the identity of the man. 

You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

Manuel sighed, he had tried to pretend as though he hadn't seen the exchange, thinking that she would miss it and they would return home without committing the crime. Unfortunately, he had failed. 

Manuel kept the glass on the table with a loud clunk, making sure to attract attention.

He gave Lena a warning look, telling her to be cautious and not too confident while doing her part of the job. She threw him a lazy smile; he never trusted her abilities, not even when she had been doing it for the past eight years throughout the town.

Manuel sauntered towards the counter sloppily, occasionally stumbling on nonexistent obstacles like a drunk person would do. He plopped himself on the seat in front of the counter and raised his head, giving one of the bartenders a wide smile.

"Ay!" he called out to him, "I'd like the day's special Cavevalley mix," he dragged out.

Manuel rested his head on his right hand, making it slip every few seconds. After his drink was placed before him, he took a slow and calculated sip. He glanced at Lena out of the corner of his eyes who was doing her part of the job.

Lena treaded slowly towards the golden eyed man and dropped her empty glass cup onto the tiled floor, causing it to shatter into a thousand minuscule pieces. The crowd around the gamblers parted, and the bartenders rushed towards the table in a frantic race, trying to clean up the mess. Lena was apologizing furiously to the man, making sure to cover Manuel and the umbrella stand from his view.

Seizing the opportunity, Manuel stood up and ambled up towards the umbrella, pulling out the gold nugget that had been dropped inside. He bit it, satisfied that there was no trace of copper, and weighed it in his palm to test its credibility. He undid the fancy belt Lena had sewn into his jeans for their endeavors and placed the nugget in its underside, before putting it back in place. He returned to his place at the counter and continued to chug in the drink.

As the bartenders returned, he turned towards them, like a young man looking for some gossip, "Say, any problem there?"

"Nothing. Just a drunk fool breaking the glass. We have one of those every week. Drunk out of their senses," one of them said.

Manuel glanced at the fierce tattoos that lined the bartender's arm and disappeared into the sleeves of his black shirt. The muscles on his arms bulged and he could see the veins pulsing in his throat. He scanned his figure for a moment, when his eyes caught on to the barely visible bump in his abdomen.

Manuel raised his eyebrows. A knife. The man was carrying a knife. He was curious to know the purpose of the knife, but kept his eyes low and finished the drink to its very last drop. After all, whatever the bartender was planning to do wasn't his concern. All he wanted was to get some money, enough to survive and feed the family that depended on his and Lena's irregular income. 

Manuel's body tingled as the sound of the local clock tower striking eight resounded throughout the streets of Cavevalley. That was his cue. He glanced around, sharply checking if Lena had left the scene. Satisfied after he didn't catch a whiff of her scent or shadow, he slowly got up from his seat, making sure to stumble a little. He pulled out a few copper coins and placed them on the counter, his half-closed eyelids resting on the hidden knife. He laughed silently, hiccuping amidst it and ambled out of the bar.

The hanging moon cast a white glow on Manuel's face and he covered the side of his face with the palm of his hand. The feathery droplets of low clouds passed through him occasionally, drowning him within the mist and the sound of his boots against the stone pavement was lost in the endless crowds of workers going home after a bone-chilling day in the mountains. He rounded a corner, entering the third street and straightened up, dropping the drunk act he had put on earlier.

Manuel touched the belt firmly, making sure the gold nugget was still there. He stood, leaning against the red brick wall, the gears in his mind working.

Lena joined him a few moments later. "You've got it?" she asked.

Manuel undid the belt and gave the shining gold to her. Lena stared at it, with an expression of awe. They had never stolen something worth that much for a long time.

"We sold our last steal to Jacob and the one before that to Steve. That leaves Chen," she said, handing the nugget back to him. They had a policy of not keeping stolen items in their possession for more than twenty-four hours and mostly sold the item immediately after the steal.

"Am I the one trading this time?" Manuel asked, placing the gold carefully into his coat pockets.

"Yes," she said, glancing at the shadows of people passing by the alley, "Chen saw me the last time I went to Jacob's. He'll be suspicious of the nugget's origins."

Manuel nodded. "What should I exchange?" he said.

"Fetch bronze and silver coins equivalent to the gold," she said, rushing Manuel into the side alley which led to Chen's shop.

"Where are you going?" he asked, wondering the reason behind her questionable behavior. 

"The girls and I are going to have some fun at Bessy's. I'll be home a little late. Don't tell Mom about it," she said, giving him a pleading gaze.

Manuel gave her a sly smile. "I'll think about it," he said, slipping into the shadows, leaving her hanging.