Chapter 46: How to Outdrink a Liar and Outtalk the Truth (1)
Antoril at night was a different creature.
Lights hung from high windows like tired eyes, and the alleys breathed a damp mix of yeast, tobacco, and poorly hidden urgency. Some streets had music. Others, too much silence.
And there we were, walking side by side like part of something rehearsed — even if we didn’t exactly know the script.
She walked half a step ahead. As always.
Wore a dark, lightweight dress that swayed with grace at each confident stride. I followed, hands in pockets, eyes scanning corners, alleys, shadows.
From a distance, we might’ve looked like a well-adjusted couple of travelers. Up close, anyone could tell only one of us knew how to fake it properly.
"What if no one wants to talk?" she said suddenly, voice lower than usual. "What if people only say nonsense? Or if no one important shows up at the bar?"
"Then we drink, eat something, and try again tomorrow," I replied in the tone you’d use to calm a skittish horse. "But there’s always someone talking too much in a bar. It’s like a law of nature."
She didn’t respond. Just kept walking. A little slower now.
"And how exactly do I start the conversation?" she asked, eyes on the ground ahead like it might give her answers.
"You listen first. Watch who looks uncomfortable. Who seems bored. Who glances around when they talk. Guilty people speak with their bodies before their mouths."