Chapter 234: One More Song

Arthur was hungry when he finally left the eastern library. He and Iris had spent longer on the alarm diagrams than he’d expected, and the academy walkways were filling with students heading to supper.

He put his worksheet away and followed them toward the lower dining hall. That was enough math for one evening. He wanted something hot to eat and a seat.

Chloe was coming out as he reached the doors. She had changed out of her infirmary robes into a green tunic and brown leggings, her hair loose around her shoulders. When she spotted him heading inside, she shook her head.

"Don’t go in there."

Arthur glanced through the open doorway. "That bad?"

"They’re serving boiled cabbage and gray mutton," Chloe said, wrinkling her nose. "I spent half the afternoon helping clean out an infected leg. I’m not looking at gray meat over supper."

"We could head into town," Arthur offered. "Get supper at the Stag."

Chloe hooked her arm through his. "Yes."

"Let me just tell Felix I’m abandoning him to the cabbage," Arthur said, pulling her briefly back into the bustling hall.

They found Emily, Felix, Leon, and Alicia crowded around a table near the hearth. Felix was staring mournfully at a bowl of watery stew, while Leon and Alicia were deep in a disagreement over the upcoming municipal festival.

"I’m just saying, watching two armored knights hit each other with sticks for three hours is a waste of a festival pass," Alicia said, cutting a piece of hard bread with her dagger.

Leon picked up his mug. "I see arcane exhibitions every day. I want to watch someone fall off a horse."

"You two have fun with the mutton," Arthur told the table, tapping Felix’s shoulder. "Chloe and I are heading down into the city."

Emily looked up immediately. "If you pass the bakery by the bridge, bring me back a braided sweet roll."

"You want me to carry a sticky pastry all the way back up the hill?" Arthur asked.

"Yes," Emily said without hesitation.

"Have a good night, Chloe," Leon added.

"We will," Chloe said, smiling.

They left the dining hall and headed out through the academy’s south gates. The cobbled street winding down the hill toward the city center was lined with glowing gas lamps, a cool autumn breeze rolling up from the canal.

Chloe slipped her hand into his as they walked. She leaned a little closer as the breeze caught her hair, resting her shoulder lightly against his arm. Arthur caught the scent of soap and lavender, perfectly content to enjoy the walk in silence.

The Leaping Stag was packed to the rafters when they pushed through the doors. A wave of heat, roaring conversation, and the rich smell of roasted pork washed over them. Over by the stone hearth, a man with a scarred fiddle was playing a fast, stomping tune, accompanied by a younger woman keeping rhythm on a stretched-hide drum.

Several tables near the hearth had been shoved aside to clear a patch of uneven floorboards for dancing, and half a dozen couples were already spinning in time with the fiddle.

Arthur scanned the back of the tavern, spotting an empty booth tucked into a dim corner. It was perfectly positioned for a long supper where he could pull Chloe into his lap.

Chloe took one look at the musicians and made a beeline for a small, scarred table beside the dancing.

Arthur let out a quiet sigh, abandoned his plans for a quiet corner, and followed her into the noise.

They barely had time to sit down before Roxanne appeared, balancing a stack of empty tankards against her hip while wiping the neighboring table. The rabbitkin owner wore her usual canvas apron, her tall, furred ears swiveling slightly backward to catch the conversation over the music.

"Look who it is," Roxanne said, dropping her damp rag into her apron pocket and leaning against Arthur’s chair. "Thought you’d be locked up on the hill."

"I took a break to feed my girlfriend," Arthur said. "What’s left in the kitchen?"

"Roasted pork belly with crackling, thick gravy, and potatoes," Roxanne said promptly. "Sold out of the beef stew an hour ago. Kitchen’s baking fresh bread right now, it’ll be out in ten minutes."

"Pork for two," Arthur said. "And whatever she wants to drink."

"Spiced cider, please," Chloe said, looking past Roxanne to watch a couple nearly collide on the dance floor. "And a dark ale for him. Who’s the fiddler?"

"Old Man Calloway," Roxanne said, glancing over her shoulder at the musicians. "Comes down from the northern logging camps twice a year. He’ll play fast until his fingers bleed, take a long break to drink his weight in dark ale, and then start playing the slow ballads."

She turned back to the table and caught the resigned look on Arthur’s face as he watched Chloe tapping her boot under the table in time with the drum.

Roxanne smirked. "You brought her somewhere with music, Arthur."

"I’m beginning to understand my mistake," Arthur said.

"Two pork bellies, a cider, and an ale," Roxanne said, stepping away into the crowd.

When the food arrived fifteen minutes later, it was exceptional. The pork crackling snapped loudly between Arthur’s teeth, the gravy was thick and savory, and the bread was almost too hot to hold. They ate mostly in comfortable silence, watching the chaotic, cheerful movement of the tavern.

Halfway through the meal, Calloway finished a lively jig, took a quick pull from a tankard at his feet, and launched straight into a fast, driving reel. The drummer picked up the beat with a heavy thump-thump-thump that rattled the silverware on their small table.

Chloe set her fork down on the edge of her plate and stood up, holding out her hand.

Arthur looked down at his own slice of pork, then at her half-finished plate.

"It’ll still be there in three minutes," Chloe told him.

"That depends entirely on Roxanne," Arthur said, though he wiped his mouth with a napkin and took her hand with his good right one.

As they stepped onto the cleared floorboards, Arthur slid his arm around her waist, leaning in close so his mouth brushed the edge of her ear. "You just wanted an excuse to press up against me in public."

"Nice try," Chloe laughed, ducking out of his grip.

She took his right hand lightly and stepped into the rhythm, smiling when he followed her into the fast, spinning reel.

Keeping up with Chloe on a crowded tavern floor was a challenge. She actually knew the dance, leading him through the steps with breathless energy, stepping in close just long enough to tease him with the brush of her hips before turning away.

The floor was packed. A burly man bumped hard into Arthur’s shoulder, throwing an apology over his head without stopping, while a woman’s wide skirt whipped across Chloe’s knees.

"You’re falling behind, Vance!" Chloe teased over the music, her cheeks flushing pink with the heat of the room as she spun back toward him.

"I’m pacing myself," Arthur shot back, catching her by the waist and swinging her into a tight circle that made her laugh out loud.

By the time Calloway drew the final note out across his fiddle strings, the entire tavern was clapping and stomping the floorboards. Arthur was warm and laughing, catching his breath as Chloe leaned against his side, her hair tangled and her face radiant.

"Again," Chloe said breathlessly as the fiddler raised his bow.

"Food first," Arthur negotiated, keeping his arm securely around her waist to steer her off the floor. "Then the next one."

Two men were sitting at the neighboring table when they returned, resting heavy tankards of ale on the wood. They wore canvas work shirts speckled with dried white plaster.

"—just saying, they don’t know what a real day’s work feels like," the taller mason was saying. "Must be nice up on that hill. Sit in a warm room reading books, wave a stick around for an hour, and then eat roasted meat while the rest of us are hauling granite blocks up the canal steps."

Chloe dropped into her chair and reached for her cider. "Reading books is fine, provided your supervisor doesn’t assign thirty pages of arcane anatomy halfway through an evening shift."

The tall mason blinked, looking at her. "You an academy healer?"

"Third-year," Chloe said cheerfully, taking a long drink. "Yesterday my instructor made our group sort three baskets of medicinal roots by scent alone."

The second mason, a stocky man with a thick beard, frowned into his ale. "Why do you need to smell a root if you can just look at it?"

"Because crushed winter-bark looks exactly like dried thistle," Chloe explained, "but winter-bark smells like pine needles. If you brew thistle into a burn paste by mistake, it blisters the skin instead of healing it."

"Then I’d rather you smelled it twice," the stocky mason said.

"That’s what our instructor keeps telling us," Chloe laughed.

His companion glanced at him. "You complain when the foreman checks your measurements twice."

"He checks them after I’ve already cut the bloody stone," the stocky man muttered.

"Oh, my combat instructor is worse," Arthur chimed in, picking up his fork and tearing a piece of pork belly. "Morwenna banned me from doing anything useful today and made me act as a casualty in the mud while Emily had to carry me across the yard."

"Carried across the yard, huh?" the tall mason said, grinning skeptically. "Sounds terrible, lad. Must be exhausting."

"You’re complaining about being carried?" Chloe asked, stealing a roasted carrot off Arthur’s plate.

"I’m complaining about the method," Arthur said.

"Whatever you say, Vance," Roxanne smirked as she walked past, clearing empty mugs from the next table. "Try not to pull a muscle on your way back up the hill."

Chloe traded a few more jokes with the masons, stealing half of Arthur’s remaining dinner while he was distracted defending his stamina.

By the time Calloway returned from his ale break an hour later, the supper plates had been cleared away. He plucked a low, rhythmic chord, and the drummer began a soft, swaying beat.

Arthur stood up, offering Chloe his hand.

Chloe smiled, said a quick goodnight to the masons, and let Arthur lead her back out onto the floor.

With the music slow and sweeping, the frantic energy of the earlier reel was gone. Arthur slid his right arm around her waist, pulling her flush against his chest, and rested his splinted left hand lightly against her spine.

She settled against him, wrapping her arms around his neck and resting her cheek near his shoulder. They swayed together in the dim light of the hearth.

Chloe tilted her face up, her dark eyes reflecting the firelight. She pulled his head down and kissed him—a soft press of her lips that tasted like spiced cider and honey.

Arthur’s hand slid lower on her back, his thumb tracing the curve of her waist through the tunic.

"Arthur," Chloe murmured against his mouth after a long moment.

"Mmh?"

"We still owe Emily a sweet roll."

Arthur opened his eyes and pulled his phone from his pocket, checking the time. It was nearly half-past nine.

"The bakery by the bridge closes at nine," Arthur realized.

"There’s another one near the market square that stays open until ten," Chloe said.

Arthur let out a quiet laugh, kissing her once more before reluctantly loosening his grip on her waist. "Come on. If I go back empty-handed, Thorne is going to use my ribs for target practice tomorrow."

They navigated their way through the crowded tables toward the door. Roxanne was wiping down the bar near the entrance as they approached. Arthur dropped three silver coins onto the sticky wood—enough to cover the supper, the cider, and a heavy tip.

"Goodnight, Roxanne," Chloe said warmly.

"Night, Chloe. Keep him out of trouble," Roxanne said, scooping up the coins.

"Always a pleasure, Roxanne," Arthur said, pulling the heavy door open.

They stepped out into the crisp, cool night air of the city. The noise of the tavern faded to a muffled thrum the moment the heavy door shut behind them, leaving them in the quiet glow of the streetlamps.

Chloe immediately caught his arm, turning him toward the commercial district. "The market square first."

"You were the one who kept asking for another song," Arthur pointed out as they started down the cobblestones.

"And you were the one who kept getting up to dance with me," Chloe replied, tucking her arm through his.

Arthur laughed. They headed down the quiet street together, scanning the dark storefronts ahead for a shop that still had its lights on.