The King's Obsession

even if the memories are stained with the thought of Jessa. At least she won't have the courage to come back here and try to find me. And this weather helps keep anyone tracking us far in the dis

d when I woke her at the crack of dawn the next morning. Not only did I have no interest in remaining in that sad room for any longer than I needed to, I'm itching to see Marek. I mean, what if I turn into a Tani before I get to tell him I'm alive. I can only imagine what his reaction would be. Now, fully dressed and in slightly better spirits, Nakoa lets me lead her toward the old bar, which I'm planning to spend the entire day in, asking about Marek and spreading the word to hopefully not drunk patrons. If he even hears my name, I am certain he will come. "This place looks horrid," Nakoa mutters, her face taking on a permanent grimace. There aren't many places like this in the Jade Province that Nakoa would find herself in. And it seems everyone can tell, as we sit at the bar, pretending figures in the shadows of the room don't exist. Most are here from last night, who haven't yet left. I'm convinced at least half are based out over their table. "I agree, but hopefully he is in here." I'm not even sure he came in here for any other reason than to talk to me about my Tani all those months ago...So maybe this isn't the kind of place Marek visits on a whim. But I'm hopeful. For awhile, Nakoa and I just sit, refusing to order anything from the grouchy barman. Nakoa stares down at the surface of the bar, blinking slowly, while I look across the room, looking for anyone conscious enough to speak to. And then I see him. It's just his back, dressed in a dark coat, as he appears briefly from the hallway, before he goes out the back door, not glancing my way at all. I'm up in a second, snagging Nakoa's sleeve as I point dramatically toward where he has gone. "I see him. You stay here, I'll go grab him," I tell her excitedly. Despite everything, I can't wait to see him. I push out the back door, ignoring the sting of cold as I examine the space. The snow is nothing more than sludge, stained with mud. A track leads into the small cluster of trees that back the village, the shadows suggesting I have no chance of seeing if Marek went that way. When I look to the right and left, there is almost nothing, aside from a group of people huddled together, talking. And Marek isn't one of them. Although Fran is. She turns at the sound of the door opening, eyes widening when she sees me. "Oh...Akara?" "Fran..." "What are you doing here?" she questions, pulling away from her group to approach me. She works here, it's obvious, considering her stained coat and mussed hair. What drew her away from the Inn? "I'm trying to get to that man that went through here, but he's gone," I tell her, pointing out to where I h