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Transmigrated As The Perverted Young Master

Chapter 146 Fated Meeting?
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After storming off of the room, Damien left the castle.

Luther joined on his trial seeing his angry face. He understood what happened and didn't ask anything but follow his lord.

Their walk ended in the castle stable, where they mounted their horses and took off.

Since they were guests the guards didn't question anything.

He was hungry. They were hungry.

Their stomachs growled like they solemnly agreed. They haven't eaten since the battle and it was taking a toll on them.

Since they left in such a hurry they had forgotten about their bags and stuff.

Damien cursed quietly as he looked at the town from atop his horse.

"Well fuck," he cursed. "I forgot my pride too. We need coins to survive."

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"Will this be enough?" Luther said, holding out a few gold coins.

"You had time to take it?" Damien was surprised to see the coins. He reached out and pocketed it. "Good work, Luther, you're proving to be more useful than I thought."

"Thank you, sir," Luther said happily.

"We need to get some food and a good night's rest first," Damien said. "Well, let's find something to eat."

Luther nodded.

The place was full of life. It was noon but there were still many people around.

Damien and Luther made their way through the bustling streets, their stomachs growling in anticipation of a hearty meal. The aroma of various dishes filled the air, enticing their senses and making their hunger even more unbearable.

They came across a lively tavern, its doors wide open, inviting passersby with the promise of good food and merriment. The sound of laughter and clinking glasses spilled out onto the street, adding to the vibrant atmosphere.

"We'll find some nourishment in there," Damien declared, pointing towards the tavern. "Let's go, Luther."

They dismounted their horses and tied them securely before stepping inside the bustling establishment. The tavern was packed with patrons, their voices blending together in a harmonious cacophony. The aroma of roasted meat and freshly baked bread wafted through the air, making their mouths water.

Damien approached the innkeeper, a stout man with a jovial smile. "Good day, sir. We need a meal and a place to rest for the night. Do you have any vacancies?"

The innkeeper nodded, his eyes gleaming with hospitality. "Of course, young sirs. We have a few rooms available, and our kitchen is serving a fine selection of meals. Take a seat, and I'll bring you the menus."

Damien and Luther found a table near the corner of the room, away from the bustling crowd. They settled into their seats, their weary bodies grateful for the respite. As they waited for the innkeeper to return with the menus, their eyes wandered around the room, taking in the lively scene.

Groups of friends clinked their mugs together, sharing stories and laughter. A minstrel played a merry tune in the corner, eliciting smiles and foot-tapping from the patrons. The ambiance was infectious, lifting their spirits despite the tensions of the day.

The innkeeper soon arrived, placing menus in front of Damien and Luther. "Here you go, gentlemen. Take your time and let me know when you're ready to order."

Damien and Luther perused the menus, their hunger making it difficult to decide. Finally, they settled on a platter of roasted meats, accompanied by hearty vegetables and a loaf of fresh bread. They placed their order, eagerly anticipating the satisfying meal that awaited them.

As they waited, Luther leaned closer to Damien and spoke in a hushed tone. "What do we do next, sir? Are we going to return to the castle?"

Damien took a moment to gather his thoughts. "For now, we'll focus on replenishing our strength and gathering our thoughts. We'll take some time away from the castle, away from the pressures of our positions. Perhaps a change of scenery will bring clarity and perspective."

Luther nodded in understanding, a hint of relief visible on his face. "That sounds wise, sir. We could use some time to regroup and consider our next steps."

Their conversation was interrupted by the arrival of their meal. The platter was placed before them, steaming and fragrant. Their hunger pangs intensified as they eagerly dug into the food, savoring each bite with gusto.

For the moment, they pushed aside the weight of their recent conflict, focusing solely on the present and the simple joy of a warm meal in good company. Tomorrow would bring new challenges and decisions, but for now, they relished in the much-needed respite.

After the meal, the innkeeper escorted Damien and Luther to their rooms for the night.

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It was a cozy space, with a comfortable bed and a sturdy desk. The room was lit by a lantern, its flickering glow illuminating the small space.

Damien took a bath. Though the bathtub was nothing special, it was enough for him. He soaked in the warm water, letting his mind relax as his body eased into the soothing liquid.

Afterward, he and Luther decided to drink some alcohol. They were both in a bad mood and a little bit of drinking wouldn't hurt.

"This is nice," Damien said, raising his glass. "Never thought I would enjoy alcohol."

Luther smiled and clinked his glass against Damien's. "Here's to a night of relaxation and pleasant memories."

Damien nodded, downing the contents of his glass.

But all of a sudden Damien's ear perked up, listening to something. He turned his head towards the source of the noise and realized it was coming from the table next to theirs.

There he saw someone very familiar to him.

"Is that..." Damien trailed off as he stared at the figure.

"Sir?" Luther asked.

He quickly turned his head, in quick cut way locking eyes with Luther. Seeing his tense expression, Luther followed his gaze and also noticed who Damien was looking at.

He was also shocked to see the man sitting at the next table, sipping on a glass of wine with one hand and holding a piece of the turkey leg with the other hand.

The man's hair fell loosely to his shoulders and the way he talks, the arrogance in his voice, Damien would never forget that. The blade that once threatened to slice his neck was resting on the table like a little stick.