William realized he had been deceived.
When he awoke again, his head was not resting on a soft bed but on the wooden floor wet with red wine, emitting a pungent smell. The barrels of wine on both sides of the tavern had been destroyed, and the wine accumulated under the broken wood stung William's aching brain like flames.
His undergarment was still on, and all his clothes were neatly worn, even preserving the stains of water and vomit on his coat, which were now emitting an unpleasant stench in the damp cellar.
He had been discarded in the cellar of the Bloody Rose Bar like a piece of trash—not to mention the scent of Gulelia's hair or the wonderful feeling of her ample, scale-mixed body. Aside from the sticky wine, he had not touched anything else.
