We were all gathered around a large wooden table, a myriad of mugs and plates scattered across its surface. The tavern was alive with the hum of chatter, clinking mugs, and hearty laughter, but at our corner, the atmosphere was significantly more somber.
Aurelia, her body covered in a patchwork of bruises and abrasions, was sitting hunched at the end of the table, her gaze directed at the half-empty mug of ale before her. In her hand, the thick glass handle of the mug creaked ominously under her tightened grip. Her knuckles were turning white, veins bulging on her backhand.
"I underestimated that brat..." She growled under her breath, her eyes flickering with a burning fury. Without warning, the handle of the mug gave way, the glass shattering into countless fragments under her monstrous strength. The remaining ale splashed onto the table, soaking the rough-hewn wood.
The tavern fell silent for a moment, all eyes turning to our table. But a quick, apologetic wave from me and a dismissive snort from Aurelia sent the chatter and noise resuming, the attention diverted once more.
Lila sighed, leaning over to pat Aurelia on her massive shoulder. "Don't let it get to you, Aurelia. You fought well."
"Yeah, don't beat yourself up over it," Sera chimed in, a faint hint of concern seeping through her usual stoic demeanor. "She just got lucky."
Aurelia merely grunted in response, her fiery gaze still fixated on the shattered remnants of her mug.
Aurelia's piercing gaze suddenly flickered over to me, the fiery intensity within them burning brighter than ever. Slowly, she extended her arm, holding up a new, unbroken mug that Sera had just handed her.
"Chang," she began, her voice stern and commanding. "That princess, Alicia, she's more formidable than she looks. Don't make the same mistake I did. Don't underestimate her."
Her lips curled into a tight grin, a spark of excitement flashing across her eyes. "And when you face her," she continued, her voice dropping into a low, determined growl. "Teach that brat a lesson for me, alright?"
Her mug hung in the air between us, an unspoken challenge lingering in the charged silence. I met her gaze, my own eyes reflecting the same determination. I raised my own mug, clinking it against hers in a firm, resounding toast.
"Consider it done," I responded, the promise echoing in the lively din of the tavern.
Q: Have you ever gotten a bruised ego before?