Life was a train of favours, taking one, giving one. It's an intricate network of transactions. Noah would undoubtably understand more about this than just a tavern girl.
The underworld was far more harsh on the idea of favours.
Noah reluctantly asked, "Celia… I came here asking for a favour."
Wiping her salty tears, she quiet mutters, "What is it…"
'Forging identity will be tiresome when it comes to prestigious academies.'
A heavy, long exhale broke the silence.
"I need a place to stay." These words left out his mouth in a rush, his chest beats heavy with tension and anticipation.
'Did this come out right?' He thought,
"And why are you asking me about a place to stay?" She asked, feigning the privy officer.
"Uhmm… Yo—ur place?"
Celia responds with a weirded out expression. But knowing where Noah was coming from, she covered her lips and giggled.
Sitting on the stool next to Noah, Celia observed his expression with greater detail. Be it, his ghastly expression he is making and tensed hands gripping into his cloak.
It was so adorable to look at, Celia couldn't help but make a smile.
"Why do you need to live at my place?" Amused, Celia nudges his side more, closing the gap between the two.
Noah remembered a past comment she made. It was about how he could return to Celia's abode at any given point of time. But, he steered clear away from her for two good reasons for that.
He killed many that have aimed for her life. He didn't know why but he knew he had to watch her from afar.
If there were people after him, he can't allow himself to be within proximity between her and himself.
"It's—something important."
"And that is?" With a teasing gesture, she leans in closer to his face, breathing upon his rosey cheeks.
Turning his head away, Noah felt an extremely profound pressure, stronger than any encounter he had came across.
"I—I need to apply to a prestigious academy." He coughed, using his hands to hide his vulnerable side.
"Is that so…" Celia in the past had insisted him to apply for an academy. But that was three years ago, that academy only allowed students at the age of thirteen to sixteen, Noah was sixteen at that time. However, there were other academies out there with higher age ranges.
There was one particular famous one in the city, Fervian Academy. It's an academy with one of the highest requirements ever needed to enroll. Noble status did not matter, what mattered was passing a cruel test. It was the aptitude test for the many studies which are conducted there. The studies are science, alchemy, scripture, combat, taming, magic, swordsman, so on…
The cruelness wasn't behind the studies being conducted, it was the cruel reality of someone who wanted to study in a particular field only to be brought news about their inept aptitude for it.
"Noah…" Curling her hair with her finger tips, she was anticipating a certain answer.
For an adequate background, he needed to propose a marriage in order to have legal rights of being a part of someone's family. Adopting someone who was a bit younger or perhaps older than you is out of the picture, the laws did not allow such things. The problem with picking the option of adoption was that Celia didn't have any parents or guardians to take care of her after the age of fifteen.
The tavern master acts like a guardian, however, he chose to foster her as a child without the documentations. With the documentations, the tavern master had legal rights over her assets in this city, Fervian.
Noah was hesitant, this marriage means a lot to him. He was nineteen while Celia was eighteen.
Noah knew that Celia had all the right to reject his request and he would stay at stage one unable to progress through it.
Turning his head towards Celia, he asked, "Should I settle this with money?"
"…But I don't particular need money."
"What are you looking for then, Celia?"
"…Nothing." Celia leaves in a fleet of hurry, taking the many orders that happened of late.
'Noah think! How am I suppose to use this scroll?!' Feeling the fine tumors settling in his mind, he was propelled to make such drastic decisions because of his guild master.
What if the next day, the guild master came knocking on his window aiming for his throat? He couldn't possibly allow such a tragedy to happen, the strongest could see and breath the air whenever they want while the weak will always cower before the mighty not knowing when it would be for him on that slaughterhouse.
'I understand marriage means a lot for that woman, but this marriage only matters because I need to enroll to the academy!'
Stroking his chin in contemplation, Noah weighs the pros and cons with going through this marriage.
He has a place to return and rest. He can be affiliated with a household name and have more freedom than before. He can enroll into any prestigious academy as he sees fit. He can apply to be a priest, albeit, difficult considering his past actions and an opposing mindset. He can actually say he has a family to take care of, increasing his reputation immensely. Lastly, he can pick and choose a comfortable, sustainable job without needing to go through imperial checks.
And onto the cons. Noah thinks with a worrisome look, a stark contrast to his stoic side. The sound of an eerie gulp came outside of his throat.
Taking on a marriage would mean more responsibilities—maintaining the relationship wouldn't be as simple as it seemed.
He would have to consider Celia's feelings carefully, especially since proposing a marriage for pragmatic reasons could deeply affect her.
He didn't fully grasp what marriage entailed. What if it became more than he could handle? What if it fell apart?
Socialising had never been his strength. What if he had to interact with Celia's friends or acquaintances? The very thought of making those connections sent an uncomfortable chill down his spine.
More thoughts piled onto each other, spiraling into a tangled mess in his mind. Each one felt heavier than the last, sending more beads of sweat trickling down his temples.
He shifted uncomfortably, his chest tightening with the weight of it all.
Sitting alone in the dim, forgotten corner of the tavern, he slumped forward, letting his head fall onto the dusty table with a quiet thud.
His fingers absently traced the rough surface of the wood as if searching for answers he couldn't find within himself.
A long, strained sigh escaped his lips. This wasn't like him. Subtle defeat crept into his posture—the hardened exterior he wore everyday cracked ever so more with this heavy hitting thoughts.
'I'm done.'
As Noah sat hunched over the table, his thoughts spiraling deeper with each passing second, Celia lingered nearby. She busied herself wiping down a glass, though her eyes kept drifting back to him. He didn't notice—too lost in his own turmoil—but she saw everything. The subtle twitch in his jaw, the restless tapping of his fingers, the way his shoulders sagged under an invisible weight.
She placed the glass down quietly and approached. For a moment, she just stood there, watching him.
"Noah," she said softly, her voice cutting through the fog in his mind. He looked up, startled.
Without a word, she reached out and lightly flicked his forehead. "You think too much," she said with a teasing smile, though there was something warmer, gentler, in her tone.
Before he could respond, she stepped back, her hands behind her back. "If you need anything… just ask." Then she turned, walking back to the bustling tavern with a quiet grace, leaving him staring after her, his hand instinctively brushing the spot she'd flicked.