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Clink

It pealed across the comfortable, bland, and quiet restaurant, loud and distinct. A summoning bell for the nervous waitress, the sound of ice on glass. She didn't like those eyes, yellow like a wolf's and just as predatory as they followed her shuffled approach. This customer's expression was neutral, framed by the inky curtain that was her hair, giving away neither joy nor displeasure. Something about that gaze made the waitress feel like she was being judged, compared to something lowly and small, like a worm turning through dirt. Her hands did their best to remain steady, but the shaking clipboard they grasped juxtaposed her forced smile.

"Yes, ma'am... er, I mean, my lady?" She corrected herself. She'd been instructed to address the small woman with no less of a formality by the 'lady' herself. She had a terrible feeling about what was to come.

The poor table waiter had no idea how right she was.

"Your best." A pause. Illisandra's eyes went half lidded, looking up at the meek server girl with the slightest hint of disdain in the curve of her lips. "I instructed you to bring me your best drink. I will say it once more, and only once more. Bring me your best drink," her voice, noble, commanding, and saturated with dissatisfaction, was low, almost a whisper. The hand which held the glass of iced rum, soft and adorned with amethyst painted nails, lazily tossed the drink. The sound of shattering glass was sharp, punctuated by a glare just as sharp that bored into the waitress' eyes.

"Y-y-y..." the yammering of a dog that knew only how to whimper, and not properly obey. It was offensive to her ears.

"Go!" she barked, no longer willing to suffer the noise.

The waitress turned and ran, not wanting to be stared at like that anymore. She'd brought their most expensive rum... now what was she to do?

Illisandra tapped the table top with a series of clicks, growing impatient. Her food was late, and her drink was unsatisfactory. An urge to kick her footstool, the orc slave she had on hands and knees beneath the table and thankfully out of her sight, gripped her. However, the noblewoman of house Ravenstone resisted the temptation. It would hike her scant black sundress up and give the cretins that worked here a view of something they simply weren't worthy of beholding.

The contact she was to meet in this town had better be worth the peasant's treatment she'd endured thus far, or she would make sure to turn the place into an economical ghost town in the coming months...

@King

Edited by Avvercus

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