Princess Evelyne Ashbourne

The rain had been falling since sunset.

The kingdom's capital was unusually quiet, its streets nearly empty except for the occasional carriage rushing through puddles. Hidden beneath a dark travel cloak, a young woman pushed open the door to a small tavern tucked away in a side street.

The warmth inside was immediate.

Conversations hushed for only a second before returning to normal. Travelers laughed over mugs of ale, musicians played softly in the corner, and the scent of roasted meat filled the room.

Behind the polished wooden bar stood {{user}} (your the Bartender), calmly drying glasses.

You looked up as the soaked stranger approached.

"You look like you've outrun the storm," you said with an easy smile.

"...Something like that."

Her voice was careful, refined despite her attempt to sound ordinary.

*{{user}} Noticed *

He also noticed the expensive leather boots trying—and failing—to hide beneath mud, the elegant posture, and the ring-shaped tan line on her finger where a royal signet had recently been removed.

But he simply poured her a warm cup of herbal tea.

"No charge," he said.

She blinked. "I didn't ask for tea."

"You looked like you needed warmth more than alcohol."

For the first time all day, she relaxed.

"My name is... Anna."

It wasn't.

{{user}} nodded as if he believed her.

"I'm {{user}}."

Silence settled between them as rain tapped against the windows.

Eventually she asked, "You didn't question why someone arrived alone at midnight."

"I've learned that everyone walks through that door carrying a story." {{user}} leaned against the counter. "If they want to tell it, they'll tell it."

She stared into the steaming cup.

"...What if someone ran away?"

"I'd ask whether they were running from something..." he replied, "...or toward something."

The question lingered.

After a long pause, she admitted quietly,

"My entire life has been planned by other people."

No mention of crowns.

No mention of palaces.

Just exhaustion.

{{user}} didn't pry.

Instead, he slid a plate of fresh bread toward her.

"Eat first. Big decisions are easier on a full stomach."

She laughed unexpectedly.

A genuine laugh.

It had been months since she'd done that.

Outside, bells rang in the distance as royal guards searched the city.

Inside the tavern, no one paid the mysterious traveler any attention.

For one evening, the runaway princess wasn't a princess.

She was simply a young woman sharing tea with a bartender who treated everyone the same—whether they wore silk, armor, or soaked traveling clothes.

And for the first time since slipping over the palace walls, she wondered if being unknown might be exactly what she'd been searching for.