The place was quite spacious.
Considering how many people were inside, it actually made sense.
Taking a step, though, was hard.
Everyone's clothes looked more luxurious compared to what I'd seen on the way here.
Probably a sign of class difference.
All the tables were packed, and there were even people standing.
Why would you stand if you're not eating or drinking anything?
There was a strange scent lingering in the air, different from anything I'd smelled before.
Oddly, it didn't smell like sweat or men, and there wasn't even any ventilation in sight.
Yet somehow, the room was cool, with a light breeze brushing through my hair.
It felt almost unnatural, like the air had a mind of its own.
Where was this guy going?
Trying to catch up with him, I made sure not to bump into anyone.
Being a slave already earned me enough degrading stares.
"Sorry… sorry…"
I muttered while passing by the tables.
Seriously where was he even going?
Couldn't we just sit and have a drink for once?
He was walking toward the counter.
Did he work here?
He sat down at a table that looked like it was meant for staff only.
"E-!"
As my body lurched forward, I grabbed the edge of the table for dear life.
I had tripped over my OWN FOOT,
falling toward the table in slow motion.
I clung to the square corner, the crash of fallen cups and plates ringing out.
Sparks of glass glittered under the dim lights as they tumbled.
Panicking, I dropped my ass onto the nearest seat, pulling the table back toward me.
Like nothing happened.
At least I didn't break the damn thing, right?
I couldn't even look at him; my face was burning.
I patted my chest, trying to clear my throat nervously.
"Ahem."
There it was again, that judgmental expression.
One corner of his lip slightly raised, like he found my entire existence mildly amusing.
I stared at my hands.
If I looked up, I'd probably end famous at this point, as if I wasn't already attracting enough attention.
Great first impression..
"You'll work here."
"What?"
He had to be joking.
I mean, I should probably work on my hand-leg coordination first.
"Just try not to break any more tables,"
he muttered under his breath, sarcastically.
"You don't have any money, do you? What are you gonna do without it?"
"Well, yes, but-"
"If you want to go home, you'll need money. And to get money, you'll have to work. You don't even have a place to stay."
Wow.
How refreshingly encouraging.
Truly inspiring.
I stared at him - half laughing, half furious - but before I could reply, a loud gong-like sound echoed through the bar.
The tension broke as everyone turned toward the open space in the middle.
More people started flooding in.
Those stuck outside were tiptoeing, craning their necks just to see inside.
At first, it looked like the tables were simply arranged to leave a rectangular gap in the center, but the arrival of three dancers made the purpose clear.
The flute's sound wasn't peaceful-it carried pain.
Each deep note blended with the dancers' steps in perfect rhythm.
All three women were dressed in red, like the Olgard kingdom's emblem, but one stood out-she wore an emerald-green crown.
As the flute picked up speed, drums joined in.
Their hand movements were sharp yet fluid, slicing through the smoky air like blades.
The girl with the emerald crown… she was the star.
Every step screamed confidence and desire.
She knew exactly how captivating she was.
"Holy crap…"
Her heart raced.
She was mesmerizing-they all were-but she had something different.
She was so confident, so unafraid of people's gazes.
Completely free.
Why was I feeling like this?
Sure, I wanted to be in her place-but… was I jealous?
Two more dancers entered-men this time-wearing lighter, pistachio-green outfits that didn't quite match Olgard's.
Their real skull masks gave the dance a poetic, eerie touch.
I wanted to be like her.
To dance.
To show people-just once-what I could do.
Maybe then I'd feel confident too.
A hand on my shoulder snapped me out of my thoughts.
While I was busy overthinking, the show had already ended.
"Hey! Darkov, who's this guy, man?"
I looked at the hand on my shoulder, then up at the owner.
Oh my god, who was this guy!?
He grinned at her, his light brown hair messy like he'd just rolled out of bed, yet it somehow made him even more charismatic.
Sweat dripped from his forehead.
Why do they all have to look so good?
I felt like an extra in the wrong movie.
I turned to the man across me.
"Darkov?"
My voice came out louder than I meant it to.
He looked exhausted, like he could faint any second, and his glare at the pretty guy said he was already annoyed.
"I don't know him."
"Huh?"
He was joking, right?
I mean, sure, we hadn't officially met, but still-
"So he is a bender? Hey, mind getting up, buddy? That's my spot."
It took me a second to realize he meant the chair.
When it clicked, I stood up so fast I nearly tripped again.
"Thanks, man. My buddy Hipchi died and pissed on this chair before he went, so, you know… sentimental reasons."
He sat down like that was a perfectly normal thing to say.
My brain just froze.
"Oh, uh… may he rest in peace."
Who the hell is Hipchi?
"Your eyes-"
A voice interrupted him.
"Oh, who's this, gentleman?"
An arm suddenly wrapped around my shoulders.
I turned, and there she was.
The dancer girl.
Up close, she was even more breathtaking.
And why the hell was she leaning on me!?
I froze.
She tilted her head slightly, her eyes meeting mine.
"Beautiful… your eyes."
She didn't sound teasing, more like curious.
If I told them I was a girl, they'd probably laugh their asses off.
But I didn't want to be treated like a guy either.
Darkov's voice cut through my panic.
"He'll start working here tomorrow."
"Wait-As what.."
"..A dancer?"
For the first time, his expression shifted, a hint of amusement, the corner of his mouth twitching.
"Don't be ridiculous. Who'd come here to watch you dance? You'll be cleaning."
My face burned instantly.
I wanted the ground to open up and swallow me whole.
Both of them were laughing like sadists.
"Cassira, get him a room,"
Darkov said flatly.
She laughed again, glancing at me.
"Hey! I worked hard enough to keep the air cool for you! You owe me!"
Pretty guy whined.
"Shut up for a second, I'll take him to his room."
She sighed.
I stared at the ceiling to avoid everyone's eyes and followed the bar girl behind the counter.
She led me through a door into a hallway with a few rooms.
At the end, she stopped.
"This one. If you need anything, I'm next door."
I nodded quickly and slipped inside.
The exhaustion hit me all at once.
My vision blurred.
I looked awful.
I always imagined this story through the princess's eyes, but of course, my luck never fails.
I ended up in the body of a slave.
And now I've even got a Death-Bringer on my tail.
I don't want to stay here.
I will talk to him tomorrow…
A shadow moved. She didn't realized
Far far away, a woman sat on a high-backed chair, her back to the room, the candlelight flickering over her shoulders.
Bitterness of heart..