When I thought how I could spend this money, food came to mind.


The aroma of roasted meat and warm, spiced broth filled my senses as soon I stepped into the dimly lit tavern. I couldn’t help but inhale deeply, savoring the rich scents as my stomach rumbled with hunger. The clinking of mugs, the low murmur of conversations, and the occasional burst of laughter created a warm, lively atmosphere. It felt strange and thrilling, walking in here with actual coins to spend. I had tucked the pouch carefully under my cloak, not wanting to attract too much attention.


In this town, people noticed everything. The kind of coin you held, the clothes on your back, and even the expressions on your face were fuel for gossip. I’d seen enough scorn and judgment passed around in these streets to know that drawing attention was dangerous. But tonight, just this once, I wanted to indulge a little, to pretend that I was someone else—someone who could sit in a place like this without worry, someone who could afford to eat her fill and leave without counting her pennies.


I slipped into a corner seat, close enough to the other tables that I could catch the bits of conversations flowing around me, but far enough to stay in the shadows. A serving girl came by, her face weathered but warm, and I ordered the best meal I could think of: a plate of steamed, seasoned meat, a hunk of warm bread, and a bowl of thick broth. As she nodded and bustled off to the kitchen, I allowed myself to relax, letting the warmth of the room soak into my skin.


When the food arrived, it was everything I had dreamed it would be. The meat was tender and succulent, seasoned just right with a blend of herbs that melted in my mouth. The bread was soft and warm, with a crispy crust that I tore into eagerly, dipping it into the steaming broth that tasted rich and hearty. I ate slowly, savoring every bite, letting myself feel the rare joy of a full stomach.


Inwardly, I thanked that kind young lady again for her kindness. Without her, I’d be scrabbling for stale bread crusts or thin soup back at the seamstress’s place. The warmth of the meal filled me with a strange, bittersweet feeling. How many people like me never got to taste something this good, to feel this warm?


As I chewed my bread, my ears pricked up at a conversation happening a few tables over. It seemed that a group of guards had gathered, sharing drinks and tales of the latest news from the capital. Their voices were low and gruff, but I leaned in just enough to catch snippets.


“...more troops are being called to the front,” one of the men muttered, shaking his head. “The archduke of Lilan been recruiting anyone with a strong back and a sword arm. The way I hear it, Soreen’s desperate.”


“Desperate? Soreen’s not the one under siege. They just need to show they’re holding the line. Jadvol’s the one pushing for blood,” another replied, his tone dismissive. “Ever since they broke that treaty… things have only been going downhill.”


My ears perked up even more at the mention of Jadvol. I had heard whispers in town that tensions had been rising with Jadvol for years, especially after they’d abandoned their ally Allynn during the empire’s last invasion. It had been a scandal; Allynn was one of the strongest allies of Soreen, but Jadvol’s refusal to help had shattered any trust between the two nations. Now, it seemed, war was the inevitable result.


A younger guard, not much older than me, spoke up with a troubled look on his face. “But why fight over Allynn’s land? It’s already been ravaged once by the empire. What’s left to fight for?”


The grizzled man beside him scoffed. “That land is prime for control, lad. Whoever controls Allynn controls the borderlands to the empire. It’s a buffer, a defense line. Soreen and Jadvol both know that. They’d rather see it burned to the ground than let the other side have it.”


I couldn’t resist speaking up, my voice a little timid at first. “Maybe… maybe instead of fighting over Allynn’s land, they should try reinforcing their borders. Soreen could fortify the mountains to the east, and then they wouldn’t need Allynn as a buffer.”


Several heads turned in my direction, some with surprise and others with mild amusement. The younger guard raised an eyebrow, a slight smirk tugging at his lips.


“You’re not wrong, girl,” he said, nodding. “The mountains would make a natural barrier. But fortifying them would cost more than most of us make in a lifetime.”


I shrugged, emboldened by his acknowledgment. “It might cost a lot, but what’s the price of constant war? Surely it’s cheaper to build defenses than to keep sending people to fight over land that’s been ravaged beyond use.”


The older man grunted, a glint of respect in his eye. “Smart thinking. You might have a head for strategy. But wars are rarely about what’s practical. It’s about pride, power… and a lot of men in high towers who never see the blood spilled.”


A quiet murmur of agreement swept through the guards, and for a moment, the air grew heavy. I could feel the weight of the conversation pressing down on the room, the kind of weariness that only those who have seen battle carry in their bones.


Someone else chimed in, an older woman in a simple wool cloak who was seated at a nearby table. “And it’s not just pride. In Jadvol, the King's mistress has her eye on Soreen’s throne, or so they say. Rumor has it she wants her son to be more than just a Lord.”


Another guard laughed darkly, lifting his mug. “Aye, that’s how it always is, isn’t it? They want the power, but they don’t care about the cost. It’s us common folk who pay it.”


I found myself nodding, feeling an unexpected connection to the people around me. We were all bound by the same invisible chains, living at the mercy of decisions made far above our heads. It was rare for me to feel a sense of camaraderie, but in that moment, surrounded by people who shared the same struggles, I felt a warmth that was almost as comforting as the meal in front of me.


“So, lass,” the younger guard leaned over, though his few feets away, his gaze thoughtful. “What would you suggest? You’re full of ideas—what would you do about this mess?”


I hesitated, taken aback by the question. “Well… if it were up to me, I’d try to broker peace first. Maybe Allynn could be used as neutral ground, a meeting place for negotiations. Both sides would have to keep their armies out, and we could start rebuilding the land instead of tearing it apart.”


A round of skeptical chuckles went around the table, but the young guard looked at me with something almost like admiration.


“Peace… now there’s a thought,” he said softly, more to himself than anyone else. “Imagine that. A world without war.”


The older guard slapped him on the shoulder, pulling him out of his reverie. “Dream on, lad. This world’s been at war since the dawn of time. But you’ve got a good head on your shoulders, girl,” he said, nodding at me. “Keep thinking like that, and maybe one day you’ll be the one making decisions instead of following them.”


I smiled faintly, a warmth spreading through me that had nothing to do with the broth or the fire in the hearth. For a fleeting moment, I allowed myself to imagine a world where my words could shape futures, where my ideas mattered to more than just the occasional kind stranger in a tavern.


But reality crept back in quickly enough, and as the conversation shifted to lighter topics, I finished the last of my meal, grateful for the full stomach and the companionship, however brief.


As I rose to leave, the younger guard caught my eye and nodded, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. “Thanks for the insight, miss. It’s not every day we get to hear something refreshing in a tavern.”


I nodded back, clutching my cloak a little tighter around me, and with one last glance at the warm, bustling room, I slipped out into the cold night air. The memory of the young lady who’d given me the coins lingered in my mind, and I couldn’t help but feel that somehow, through all the hardships and uncertainties, a small spark of hope had been kindled within me.