The clinking sound of coins accompanied by a murmur of fast-paced counting came from a corner of the kitchen of the only tavern in the little village. Eve's braided hair dangled in the air like a thick rope, falling from her shoulder over her drooping figure, counting the copper coins with much concentration in the light of the dim kerosene lamp by the door.
The smell of burning kerosene was mixed with that of boiling gravy, the latter rising from the huge pot in the middle of the room, stirred constantly by an old woman in a powder blue dress. She wore an apron as well as a cap made of white Linen, whose color had faded over years of use.
The old woman glanced at Eve now and again, humming a melody over the clamor of the drunk men fighting in the adjoining hall. Neither of the women was bothered by it. They got used to such things and other things that came along with running the only tavern in their remote village.
"Is that all, Tilly?" Eve asked, raising her head from her cupped hands.
The old woman sighed. "That's all I can afford to pay you, for now, kid." She said, turning towards her with an apologetic look.
Eve felt slightly disappointed at the reply. But she didn't complain. She would never complain to Tilly. After all, she was the only one willing to let her work without any other conditions. In the village, the commoners didn't want to keep her with them since they considered her filthy and the rich women didn't want her at their houses because they feared that she'd climb into the beds of her sons and husbands.
Not that she had any such interests. She knew her worth. Her mother had taught her at least that much even at such a young age. There were bigger things in life that she wanted to achieve. A little house by the ocean, a small shed for Rosie, and a tiny library of her own.
As soon as she would find her mother, she was going to leave this godforsaken corner of the world. That was the plan. That was what she had been saving up all these years for, she thought, tying her tiny money bag on her waist tightly.
"Thank you, Tilly," Eve said, flashing a smile at the kind old owner of the tavern.
Suddenly the door to the kitchen slammed open, making way for a tall young woman in peasant's clothes. Eve observed Libby with curiosity. Among all the women in Tilly's tavern, Libby was the prettiest, and she knew it. But it was usually quite rare for her to smile as wide as she was at the moment.
It was an open secret that Tilly's girls offered other services at the barn for those who could afford to pay. That was one of the reasons why the young lords Cavanough and Tarleton never missed a day at the place, drinking and making merry until their coachmen grew weary of the sounds that echoed through the silent village from the forest at midnight.
"Tilly!" Libby exclaimed, reaching out to clasp the old woman's hand in excitement.
"What is it, girl?" The old woman asked, keeping her eyes on the contents of the pot as she kept stirring the gravy with her one free hand.
Libby opened her mouth to say something then closed, sensing a third person in the room. Eve straightened her worn-out skirt, understanding the message behind the sudden silence. She knew when she was unwanted.
Though she had been working in the Tavern's kitchen for the past few years, she wasn't even for once under the impression that anyone else other than Tilly would ever talk to her. She was, after all, the village outcast- the filth that even the lowest of the lowest wouldn't want around them.
"I'll get going then," Eve said, waving a pale hand at the old woman.
At Tilly's curt nod, she turned around her eyes towards the darkened skies of the Tavern's backyard. A heavy weight began to settle in her heart as she exited the building, pausing outside the door to watch the starlit sea of blue above her. Now that she was old enough, she understood the meaning of the villagers' taunts. They were calling her a bastard- a life born from sin and out of wedlock.
She had laid awake many a night thinking about it. It made sense when she thought about the way her own father hated her from birth. Even animals loved their spawns. It was impossible for a creature so high up in the food chain to turn their backs on their own blood. It made sense when she thought about the way everyone at home treated her like a servant as if she had no place among them.
"Soldiers! There are two soldiers in our Tavern!" Libby's excited squeal rang from behind her.
"Today is our lucky day," Tilly replied in a much lower voice, but the joy in her tone was unmistakable.
Eve raised a brow, momentarily distracted by the woman's words. Why would there be soldiers in the village? Saint Yvon was quite far from any of the towns or even the other villages to the extent that no trader would opt to come there even during the most festive of seasons. So the appearance of the soldiers couldn't be an accident, she reasoned with herself.
As a cold wind brushed past her, the girl shivered, shaking off her suspicions and the way her wild imagination that stemmed from the countless books she used to "borrow" from a certain someone until a few years ago and the rumors that she had happened to hear in passing among the villagers about the king's soldiers.
She looked up and sighed at the starlit sky. Yes, she had somewhere to be tonight. The money bag on her waist weighed heavy. It contained all of her life's savings- what she could manage to hide from the sight of her stepmother and her greedy sisters. This was the last year that she was willing to try.
It had been four days since she had heard the howl of a wolf so close to the house. Four days since she had hoped in vain that her mother had come back for her. Neither the wolf from that night nor Meredith had shown up, no matter how long she had waited into night the last three days.
Eve paused in her path, sneaking from behind the Tavern's walls, leaning to see if the coast was clear. She didn't want to be caught and robbed of her money by her petty sisters who waited outside the place every day to catch a glimpse of the young lords.
Seeing that the front side of the Tavern was almost bereft of people, save for the one coachman who appeared bored, she slid out of her hiding place, walking forward with sure, determined steps. If her mother was not going to come for her, then she was going to go all the way to wherever she had been hiding all along, Eve thought, her grip on the money bag tightening.