Chapter 31: Back at the Inn

"So everything is back to normal now? That's wonderful news!"

The following evening after seeing Shield Knight, I had decided to celebrate my evening off by going back to the Inn of Pride. It had been on my mind to visit the bartender again and catch up; especially after the good pick-me-up he had given me from our previous encounter. Once again, I was propped up at the bar, conversing the night away.

Except this time, I wasn't in a bad fix. Things were finally going well for me, and my good posture at the side of the bar reflected this. Or at least that's what I'd like to think.

"Thank you, my good man" I replied to the rotund, moustachioed barkeeper.

"I knew you could do it" the bartender replied to me in his jolly voice. "You'd been through a lot, but you showed a great deal of spirit and courage. People now ought to think twice before they mess with you again!"

We both chuckled, myself humbled by the compliment. I swigged another sip of my ale; its sweet tones had never tasted sweeter.

There was something that I wanted to ask the bartender. Under normal circumstances, the very thought of speaking about Shield Knight would send waves of nervous energy pulsing through my every sinew. But here, at the Inn of Pride, such nervous energy was easily dissipated. The pub was bustling, the music good, the energy positive; I felt now was a good time to discuss a certain matter with the bartender.

"…So, in a few days, Pridemoor Keep's going to be holding a ball" I spoke to the barman.

"Ah yes" the bartender replied. "The Pridemoor Ball, is it not? The entire village will be celebrating as well; it's good that the king is throwing us all a party!"

"Well…as you know, I need a date" I said to him. As I spoke, I felt my heart go light, like a feather on ocean waves. So much for the atmosphere. The bartender gave me a knowing stare.

"Ah yes, that is correct" he said. "I suppose you'll be wanting to try your chances with Shield Knight, am I correct?"

I nodded in response. "That's right; I need your advice. How do you approach someone to ask them for a date like this?"

The bartender stood silently for a moment, pondering the question.

"…Well, I suppose you just ask, right?" he answered.

Of course just asking her would be the cordial thing to do. But my heart felt uneasy at the prospect. Shield Knight knew how I felt about her. She knew that I was in love with her. And yet, here we were, not together. I knew that we hadn't barely spent enough time in each other's company as friends or even acquaintances, what with everything that had happened to me in the last few weeks. Now the air was clear, I had to ask.

I just wish I had more time though. Time to nurture a slow growing bond; time to get to truly know Shield Knight better, and for her to get to know me better.

"You look troubled" the bartender said, snapping me out of my trail of thought. Jarred, I quickly shot a glance up towards his concerned face, before breathing a weary sigh.

"It's alright" I said slowly. But the bartender continued to look at me.

"You're scared she's going to say no, aren't you?" he said to me.

This bartender sure knew how to read my mind. He'd reached the conclusion before I even managed it.

"…Yes" I said quietly. "It is scary; we've been through so much! If it just finished like that, then…then it would just be an anti-climax, if anything"

The bartender started to laugh as soon as I finished my sentence.

"Oh, my boy, you've nothing to worry about" he guffawed. "You two have been through a lot together! Listen, I have a little advice for you. Something for you to think about when you ask her to be your date for the ball"

I turned on my chair and tuned my ears in. Any good advice would be very welcome.

"Just be yourself" he said to me. "And, like the kids say, play it cool. I'm not trying to say you'll be unsuccessful, but if things don't quite go your way, it's all right! You'll know what I mean in time"

It wasn't the advice I was expecting, nor the advice I particularly wanted to hear. I would have rather the bartender give me a tip on how to handle my shovel in an gentlemanly and attractive way, or the best way to open a conversation that broaches the social agreement of a dance. Regardless, I nodded quietly; just to make sure that my bond with the bartender didn't become sullied.

Hours passed, and after much more ale consumption, I found myself back in my room at the castle, staring at the familiar ceiling. The Pridemoor Ball was closing in, and I needed to pick the right time to ask her.

I had a brainwave that night.

I would ask her at the very ball itself.

Much better than agonising over a rejection days before the ball, I figured that if I asked her at the ball, she would perhaps take my hand and we would go to dance in the grand hall of the castle, whilst romantic music played. I shivered as the butterflies started to build in my stomach; our dance was a scene most imaginable. After all, if nobody was dancing with her at the ball itself, then it would be clear that she had not been asked! And in a slightly nasty way, perhaps her loss to me has resulted in some social fall of grace. Perhaps making my chances all the better?

And what if the opposite happened and she were to refuse. I dreaded to think of that outcome, and quickly whisked myself away to sleep before I could ponder such a thing any longer.