The air in The Drunk's Stag was warm and thick with the scent of ale and roasted meats, underpinned by the gentle murmur of chatter and laughter.
Richard settled into a corner booth alongside James and Trevor, while Nadia, Anne, and Oren took seats opposite. The table was worn oak, polished smooth by countless evenings like this one, its surface ringed with the marks of old tankards and forgotten stories. Even the edges bore faint carvings from patrons past—initials and stray hearts etched in moments of bravado or wistful longing. Warm lantern light flickered across the grain, dancing in time with the lively chatter floating from all around.
James slapped a few crumpled twenties on the table without a second thought. His restless gaze flicked from Trevor to Richard, settling with a challenging glint as the barmaid placed frothy mugs of ale before each of them.
"Drink up," James urged, lifting his own tankard and smirking in Richard's direction. "We wouldn't want our hero to get bored, would we?"
Richard raised an eyebrow but took the bait with a relaxed shrug. "I never said I was bored, James. But if you're buying, who am I to refuse?"
Nadia laughed softly, her voice nearly lost amid the pub's background din. Richard caught her wide-eyed glance, noting how she quickly lowered her gaze, cheeks slightly flushed. Oren, seated beside Anne, offered Richard an apologetic smile, as though embarrassed on Nadia's behalf.
Anne leaned in, green eyes bright with curiosity. "So, Richard," she began, tone casual but probing, "is it true you could've taken down the Dungeon boss single-handedly?"
Richard gave a modest shrug, sipping his ale. "I like to think so."
James snorted. "Oh, please. Don't feed his ego—he's already insufferable."
Trevor chuckled, elbowing James playfully. "Jealous, are we?"
"Jealous? Of course not," James snapped, scowling while Trevor laughed good-naturedly. "I could handle myself just as well, given the chance."
"Could you?" Richard asked mildly, raising an eyebrow.
He felt Nadia's leg accidentally brush against his own beneath the table. She murmured a quiet apology, eyes wide with embarrassment; Richard gave her an easy smile in response, making her blush deepen.
Luckily for James, the conversation soon shifted to lighter topics—stories of childhood misadventures and life before they joined the Mage Guild. They laughed about the time James accidentally unleashed a minor water spell in his family's living room, soaking the expensive sofa and receiving a scolding he still remembered vividly. Oren contributed a tale of nearly burning his father's workshop with a misfired spark, prompting good-natured teasing.
When Richard mentioned his surname was Blackwood, and that their instructor was his sister, everyone gaped in astonishment.
"Y-You. Her? What?"
"Blackwood? As in Professor Blackwood?" James spluttered, gripping his tankard tighter. "Why didn't you say anything earlier?"
"Now that you mention it, I can kind of see the resemblance," Trevor added, sounding genuinely stunned.
Their surprise wore off quickly, though, and they moved on to other chatter. Anne—usually composed—surprised everyone by openly flirting with Trevor, laughing brightly at his jokes and leaning in close. At first oblivious, Trevor soon caught on, and his easy grin grew with each passing moment.
Someone's getting lucky tonight, Richard mused.
Nadia, meanwhile, slid closer to Richard; her initial timidity seemed to melt away with each sip of ale. By her third mug, her eyes flickered up to meet his more frequently. Any hesitance in her demeanour gradually gave way to a confident warmth.
Am I also getting lucky tonight? he wondered, amused by her sudden interest. Sure, I'm devilishly handsome, but I barely spoke to her before today. Yet there was something about Nadia's smiles and curious stares that felt disarmingly genuine. It was as though she had gathered enough courage in the span of a single evening to let her guard down, revealing a playful side she usually kept hidden.
"You're not what I expected," Nadia admitted softly after finishing her third drink, her words braver thanks to the ale.
"And what exactly were you expecting?" Richard asked, turning slightly towards her.
"Well…" Nadia hesitated, fidgeting with the rim of her mug. "Someone less approachable, maybe. More distant. Intimidating."
Richard chuckled quietly. "I'm flattered, I think."
"It's a compliment!" she rushed to assure him, her eyes widening, clearly worried she'd offended him. "I meant it positively."
He needed a moment to think of a reply. "You flatter me too much," he managed. He glanced at her lightly freckled cheeks and the way her lips curved into a half-smile, uncertain whether he should downplay her words or embrace them wholeheartedly. A soft hum of conversation washed over them from neighboring tables, but he focused on Nadia's wide, inquisitive eyes.
"Relax," he said gently, offering a reassuring smile. "I know what you meant."
She breathed easier and edged closer, her leg brushing his beneath the table. Richard blinked but didn't draw away. Nadia interpreted this as encouragement; her eyes shone with sudden optimism.
Nearby, Anne's laughter rang out as Trevor shared a funny misadventure involving a disappearing toad. Meanwhile, James grew moodier, glaring around the table, occasionally casting sour looks at Richard.
"Not enjoying yourself, James?" Oren asked, amused.
James huffed. "Hardly. I'm surrounded by incompetence and bravado."
"Aw, cheer up," Trevor said, clapping James on the shoulder. "You might learn something."
James merely glowered, and Trevor turned back to Anne's more welcoming company.
As the night wore on, Nadia's attentions became bolder. Richard found himself both entertained and intrigued. She leaned into him whenever she laughed, her perfume drifting pleasantly in the space between them. Her hand brushed his forearm from time to time, leaving a warm tingle in its wake.
When did she have time to put on perfume? After practice? Does she keep it on her? Women…
"You're brave, Richard," Nadia said at one point, her voice going quiet and serious. "Clever and kind—much more than people give you credit for."
Her straightforwardness took him aback. How in blazes did she decide I'm kind? He eventually replied, "You flatter me too much."
"Maybe," Nadia allowed, smiling boldly as she sipped her ale and locked eyes with him. "Or maybe I'm just being honest for once."
The group grew louder, their laughter mingling with the bustle of the pub as the drinks kept coming. Anne and Trevor were engrossed in conversation, their heads close together. Oren spoke quietly with James, whose mood swung between sullen and boastful the more he drank.
Meanwhile, Nadia grew openly flirtatious, and Richard soon felt her hand resting on his thigh beneath the table. He couldn't help but relish the warmth of this unexpected connection—he was enjoying himself more than he had at any point since coming back.
"You're different when you're relaxed," Richard observed, fighting back a grin.
"I'm different when I'm drinking," she corrected, soft laughter spilling out, her eyes glittering mischievously. "Or maybe you just bring it out in me."
He grinned, genuinely liking her newfound confidence. "I hope so. It's nice."
Eventually, people began to leave. Anne exited first with Trevor, still laughing as they made for the door. James followed not long after, muttering about the childishness of it all, and Oren waved a quiet goodbye before disappearing into the night.
That left Richard and Nadia alone. She tilted her head, voice low and warm. "Walk me back?"
"Of course," he answered, standing and offering his arm.
Outside, the cool night air brushed their faces, brisk against Nadia's lingering flush. Richard, thanks to his enhanced metabolism, felt only the faintest effect from the ale. Perk of being S-Rank, he mused wryly. The alcohol burned off before it could grant him the buzz others craved.
They walked together, Nadia leaning into him, sharing occasional laughs at silly jokes.
"This was fun," Richard said, recalling how snug Anne and Trevor had looked earlier. "And they really hit it off—Trevor and Anne."
"They did!" Nadia grinned knowingly. "And I think I did pretty well myself tonight."
"Oh? And what exactly did you do?"
She tossed her hair impishly. "Why, I… caught you, obviously!"
He chuckled. "Did you now?"
"Yes!" she said, rolling her eyes in mock exasperation. "You should thank me. Without me, you wouldn't have had nearly such a nice evening."
He sent her a sidelong glance, smirking. "All right then. Thank you, Nadia."
She hesitated at the sincerity in his tone, then recovered with a bright smile. "You're welcome, Richard."
They strolled in comfortable silence for a while, bathed in the glow of streetlamps casting elongated shadows along the pavement.
"You're really not what I expected," Nadia murmured again, echoing her earlier sentiment.
Her gaze flicked from his face to the soft glow of the porch light, illuminating the gently worn threshold of her home. In the distance, a stray cat mewed, padding across cobblestones still radiating the day's residual warmth. A breeze picked up, carrying the distant hum of traffic and the clink of bottles.
Before Richard could respond, they reached her doorstep. She paused, resting a hand on the worn wooden frame of the door. Then, with a small, determined tilt of her chin, she met his eyes. "Would you like to come in?"
He held her gaze for a moment, then a slow smile curved his lips. "I'd love to."