The tavern was abuzz with the usual evening chatter, but all of Luke's focus was on the scene unfolding at the far end of the room. Ilyrana sat at their table, her hood still drawn low, surrounded by a small group of men. Their voices, though not loud enough to cause a disturbance, carried a tone that set Luke on edge.
As he moved closer, Luke strained to catch their conversation. Relief washed over him as he realized it was the latter of his fears—the men were hitting on Ilyrana, not harassing her over her true identity. But even so, the situation was far from comfortable. The men leaned in close, each trying to outdo the other with their advances, seemingly oblivious to Ilyrana's complete disinterest. Her expression remained indifferent, her attention fixed on the table, clearly not engaging with any of them.
