Snippet #839618

Zahra ignored the obvious stares of the patrons as they entered the tavern. The place smelt of alcohol and its stale, foreign scent made her wrinkle her nose beneath her veil. Of course, Martin was not expecting her to drink the ale he had just ordered; if he did then he was sorely mistaken and would sharply learn as such when he offered it to her.

When Lillian offered to venture outside into the market, Zahra was inwardly pleased. She'd not enjoyed the taste of fresh fruit in a few days, having been travelling through the forest, away from market towns or farms. She doubted that the fruit Lillian was eagerly searching for was anything remotely similar to what had grown back home but anything sweet and juice-filled would be welcome.

"Now we are alone and you will soon have your lands back," said Zahra, turning to Martin and unfastening her veil. It fell to the side of her face with a jangle of beads and exposed her face for the first time that day. A few of the men sitting at the bar leaned back with shameless curiosity and began to talk loudly about 'heathens' and 'harems'. Again, Zahra was even more studied that before in her ignorance.

"Might I ask what you intend to do with me and your servant? Do you expect us to stay with you on your estate? I don't think any wife of yours would take kindly to our presence," she said, crossing her arms over her chest.