The sun was already slanting westward, tinting Arvalen with orange and gold hues. The shadows of the buildings stretched across the street, and the city's hustle and bustle seemed quieter in that stretch. Irelia, Amelia, and Sylphie walked side by side, ignoring the wary glances some passersby gave them.
"Right…" Sylphie lifted her chin, looking around. "If I were a tall, troublemaking redhead with a penchant for causing trouble in taverns, where would I be?"
"Probably in a tavern, yes," Amelia said dryly, but with a slight smile on her lips. "The question is which one."
Irelia glanced at a fruit vendor arranging his baskets. Without much change in tone, she asked, "Where's the noisiest tavern in Arvalen?"
The man looked up slowly, as if certain that answering wrong would cost him dearly. "You guys... want the loudest one?"
"Yes." Irelia inclined her head slightly, and the man swallowed hard.
