"It's fine. Continue with your bath." Vinos slammed the chamber door shut.
"Was that truly Alavin? Are you sure?" someone exclaimed from the pool. That couldn’t be right; Alavin was gravely wounded the day before yesterday, run clean through by a blade. He ought to be bedridden, how could he possibly be here?
"I'm certain, it was Alavin." Vinos suddenly felt a pang of annoyance. “Was I just afraid? How could I be afraid?”
"Who else was with him?" Marak inquired.
"I saw no one else, just him by himself."
"Fear not, he may be bold in the dueling grounds, but he wouldn't dare cause trouble in Warriors' Vale."
"Was I afraid?"
The door slowly opened, and there stood Alavin, frowning at the scene before him.
"What do you want?" Vinos' bravado faltered.
"Spare them," Alavin gestured to the three maidens still kneeling on the ground.
"Out! Get out!" Vinos had forgotten all about them, quickly ushering them away.
"Thank you," the three maidens scurried out of the room, thanking Alavin repeatedly.
"Apologies for the intrusion. I'll send you lads a cask of wine later," Alavin had no wish to entangle with these young nobles.
"We need none of your gifts!" Vinos dared not accept anything from him.
The door closed, and Vinos breathed a sigh of relief, then shouted outside, "Tell Enosto to send a dozen! Right now!"
"Lord Vinos, please wait," came the guards' voices from outside.
The young nobles in the pool managed a forced smile. "Ignore him. Let's enjoy our night. Fine wine, fair ladies, tonight we shall indulge."
Marak glanced at the door and dismissed it, raising his goblet in a toast. "Cheers!"
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