Michelle watched all the people in the tavern, sitting by tables, drinking, shouting, and playing cards. At the tables in the corners were quieter groups, some making shady deals, some just observing the tavern.
As Michelle glanced around, her gaze met with a tall, robust man with a nasty scar stretching from his forehead, over his neck, and finally hiding from her gaze under his shirt. His eyes were sharp and cold as he stared at Michelle.
Naturally, Michelle felt some lecherous gazes on her, but the gaze of that one man was completely different. He was glaring at her, as if her presence was bothering him.
But he was also studying her, clearly wanting to know why she came to the tavern. In his eyes, she seemed like a naive young lady oblivious to the dangers of the world, but at the same time, it was clear she had gone through some fighting as her clothes had some clear dirt and dried blood on them. Also, in some places, they were a bit torn.
