Elizabeth didn't even slow her stride. "You're staring," she corrected smoothly. "Not very subtle." They crossed the bar, heading toward a second door on the far end. Their guide pushed it open, leading them into a much quieter space. The thundering music dulled as the heavy door shut behind them, sealing the madness away.
They ascended a flight of stairs. At the top, the bald man knocked once, then opened the door, gesturing for them to enter. "The Bartender is waiting for you," he announced.
Inside the dimly lit room, a man rose from behind an ornate desk. He was older, dressed in a crisp black suit, his silver-streaked beard trimmed to perfection. Despite his formal appearance, there was a casual ease to him—an air of amusement, of someone who had long outlived his enemies and found entertainment in the simple fact of his own survival. The moment he saw Elizabeth, his face lit up. "Well, well. Sister. This is a surprise. Didn't expect you to seek out an old relic like me." His arms opened wide in welcome. "I'm honored."
Elizabeth smiled, stepping forward without hesitation. "It's been a long time, Bartender." The two embraced, a hard, brief hug punctuated by a pair of sharp claps on each other's backs. Neither knew the other's real name. Neither needed to. Some bonds were forged in blood and fire, strengthened not by truth, but by secrecy.
The Bartender leaned back, grinning. "Five years, six months, three days." He exhaled a soft chuckle. "That's how long it's been, Sister."
Elizabeth arched a brow. "You were counting?"
Tears glistened in the bartender's weary eyes as he clasped Elizabeth's shoulders, his grip firm yet trembling with emotion. "Where in the name of the God-Emperor have you been all these years?" His voice cracked with genuine longing. "You don't know how much I've missed you." He stepped back slightly, studying her as if trying to convince himself she was real. His eyes roamed over her, taking in every detail. Then he exhaled, shaking his head in disbelief. "By the Throne, you look younger than ever. More beautiful, even. Look at you—long golden hair like ripened wheat, eyes blue as a pristine lake, lips like a saint's blessing." He pressed a hand to his chest dramatically. "You, my dear, are an angel walking among us."
Elizabeth let out a short laugh. "Enough, Bartender. Flattery never worked on me before. I'm not about to start falling for it now. But I have to admit—I didn't expect you to still be this smooth after all these years."
The old man grinned, flashing teeth yellowed by age but still perfectly intact. "Fine wine only gets better with age, Sister. What do those young fools know? Charm—true charm—comes with experience. And though I may be older, I can assure you, I am still very skilled. No matter the endeavor. Would you care to put me to the test?"
Elizabeth smirked. "Oh? It's been a few years, and now you've grown braver?"
Bartender spread his arms and took a step back, his expression one of utter confidence. "Look at me, Sister. Do I look like a man who fears anything? Life is short—why waste it being careful? If I had the chance to pick the most radiant flower in the garden before I die, I'd pass into the void without regret."
Elizabeth chuckled. "That's the best compliment I've heard in years."
"No need to thank me," Bartender said, walking over to the bar at the side of the room. He pulled out a cocktail shaker and began preparing a drink with practiced ease. "Making beautiful women smile is simply my duty. What can I get you?"
"The usual."
"Ah, Bloody Mary, of course." He began mixing without hesitation, then turned his gaze toward Anjie. His eyes narrowed slightly as he studied her, curiosity flashing across his face. Then, realization struck. "By the Throne…" He straightened, rubbing his chin as he gave Anjie a long, assessing look. "Sister… am I seeing this right?"
Elizabeth remained unbothered. "You are."
Bartender let out a low whistle. "Well, I don't think my eyesight has failed me just yet." He turned toward Anjie. "And you, Miss? What will you have? My collection is extensive—I guarantee I have something to your taste."
Anjie frowned slightly, scanning the vast selection of liquor behind the bar. The endless rows of glass bottles gleamed under the dim lights, their labels whispering of exotic flavors and forbidden indulgence. This was unfamiliar territory. She had spent most of her life in the mountains, training under her master—an ascetic who viewed all earthly pleasures as distractions. Alcohol had never been permitted, never even considered.
Yet, Elizabeth was the opposite. Anjie had grown up watching her mother drink with ease, sipping spirits like it was second nature. Part of her wanted to turn away, to dismiss the offer outright. Another part—the curious part—wanted to know what made alcohol so special. But before she could make a decision, Elizabeth spoke. "Forget it, Bartender. My daughter doesn't drink. Get her something non-alcoholic."
Anjie spun toward her mother, eyes narrowing. "What?! Since when do you get to decide that?"
Elizabeth barely glanced at her. "Since you're not eighteen yet."
"I am eighteen!"
"Not yet. Seven more days."
Bartender gave Anjie a theatrical shrug, his lips twitching in amusement. "My hands are tied, Big Sister. You heard your mother." With that, he placed two drinks on the counter. One was deep crimson, thick and rich as fresh blood—Elizabeth's signature Bloody Mary. The other fizzed darkly, bubbles rising to the surface—a simple cola. Anjie glared at it, muttering under her breath.
Bartender only grinned. "Trust me, Big Sister, you're better off easing into it. Once the clock strikes midnight on your birthday, I'll make you something proper." Bartender poured himself a drink—something golden and aged—before leaning against the counter, watching Elizabeth with knowing eyes. "So," he drawled, swirling the liquid in his glass, "when a certain Sister of Battle walks into my establishment, I can't help but assume something big is about to happen."
Elizabeth sipped her drink, then shrugged. "I'm just passing through."
Bartender laughed—loud, genuine, and utterly disbelieving. "Oh, of course! Just a casual visit. Nothing suspicious at all. You're just an ordinary mother, taking her ordinary daughter on a pleasant little vacation. And I am a fine, upstanding citizen of the Imperium." He winked at Anjie, then leaned forward. "So, my dear ordinary Sister, what exactly do you need from me?"
Elizabeth smirked. "Information. It's been a long time since I've been anywhere civilized. I need to catch up."
Bartender hummed, rubbing his chin. "Well, let's see… what's new in the universe?" He took a slow sip of his drink. "The Defense Forces and the Greenskins are still butting heads. The usual uprisings on a few agri-worlds. Orks are getting restless again. Religious cults popping up everywhere—though that's nothing new. Time moves forward, people get older, and yet nothing really changes. The Imperium is still burning, and Muddrift Hive is still a cesspit of sin."
Elizabeth sighed. "Spare me the philosophy, Bartender. Give me details."