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(Page 2 of 6) Ivaris - Chapter 4 by Jennifer Raney
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| I mean this pub was posh, the picture of sophistication, I was very impressed. The booths were leather and looked cushy and comfortable. The atmosphere was inviting and private, with sheer black and copper curtains hung here and there to break up the room, and provide further privacy. I looked down and admired the plush red carpet, and then nearly died when I realized how dirty my boots were.
Seroan took my arm headed for the back of the room, to the bar. The walls were decorated with perfectly polished glass mirrors, full to the roof with shelves of expensive liquor. The pub was quiet at this hour, with only a few somber looking patrons scattered about the place.
The barman considered us with distaste, "Do you have business here?" he asked.
Seroan glanced at the well-to-do looking patrons of the bar who pretended not to pay attention to us and motioned the barman to let him whisper in his ear, "Tell the man Seroan Pron'tesh has dropped by," he said.
The barman gave a short, arrogant nod, and disappeared behind a curtained door for a moment. I looked a question at Seroan, and he winked. A few minutes later the barman reappeared, and motioned us to go through the door. We did so, and were immediately accosted by a very large, hairy, jolly man who grabbed Seroan into such a bear hug that he nearly asphyxiated.
"My Stars," the man said in a heavy accent, "I thought I'd never see your ugly face again!" he laughed.
Seroan grinned and clapped the man on the shoulder and turned to introduce me, "Godfather, this is Ivaris," he said, "I thought you might take us in and listen to a little story tonight."
"Ivaris, what a beautiful girl!" the man smiled, the wrinkles on his forehead accentuating the baldness above. "I'd be honored to have ye, you're family after all!"
Seroan turned to me, "Ivaris, this is Rorcher Rean, my god father. He raised my brother and me."
"Oh I see, very nice to meet you sir," I said shyly.
"Ohh, come now lass, ‘sir' is what I call my father! Call me Rory," he winked at me, and laughed at my shyness.
"Come, come, you look exhausted and filthy, have a bath. Mordre!" he bellowed to his wife who was somewhere down a hallway, "Your son is here, and a lady friend!"
I took a moment to observe the room; it appeared to be Rory's office or library. It was rich and warm and comfortable. The walls were paneled with dark mahogany and lined with full bookshelves. There was a small fireplace in the corner, and a large desk near the door littered with papers, ledgers, and pens.
He motioned us to follow, and we entered the long hallway and up a small flight of stairs into a lovely living area. The room was very light, and the air was fresh. I realized there was an enchantment on the vent to filter the air coming in from above.
"Mordre! Did ye hear me, woman?!" Rory hollered again, breaking my thoughts.
"Yes, yes dear, I'm coming!" I heard from what I assumed was the kitchen.
A portly woman burst through the swinging doors and I loved her immediately.
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