Weylyn stepped out of the tavern, sighing in relief as the wave of the overwhelming noise was left behind and the chilling cold air brushed over her face, calming her.
She sucked in a deep breath, Knight Bolev and Yrazel had been at it for almost a half hour, eventually, Lord Jilon had to interfere and remind them the party would be returning to the Thurian citadel on the morrow.
They would need to be sober enough to ride and so the drinking battle had come to an undecided end, though all eyes could see Knight Bolev had become winded while Knight Yrazel remained completely indifferent.
Weylyn could not understand, why anyone could be unaffected by that horrible tasting liquid, even wine was unbecoming to her...but ale? It was simply distasteful.
