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The person was apparently feminine.
He couldn’t see his face, but he’s petite and delicate, with thin hands removed from the sleeves of his cloak, and white enough to think he’s never been in the sun.

The bunch of hair spilling from the edge of the hood has a wonderful golden color.

The owner and the other customers in the restaurant were intrigued by this mysterious look.

The fact that the bastard gambler had a woman with him was intriguing in itself, and it was no surprise that she was hiding her face as if she was worried about being seen.

They were whispering secretly, as if they were having a private conversation.

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The owner of the bar, who was alerted by one of the regulars, pretended to ask them for their order and approached them.
The man, a dull gambler long past forty, and the woman, a woman with her face hidden.
For people in this area, where entertainment is scarce, this was a good story.
There was no way he could pass it up.

“What would you like to drink?”

When the owner spoke to them, they stopped talking and the man asked for barley wine and boiled beans while the woman did not seem to want anything.

When the owner took their order and left, they resumed their private conversation in a whisper.

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It seems that there is a reason for this.

Just as the owner was about to take the barley wine and beans, the woman put her leather bag on the desk and stood up.
The bag sounded terribly heavy, but what could it possibly contain?

The woman slips through the gaps in the table inside the narrow bar and quickly leaves, but the eyes of the customers focused on the man left behind.

The man puts the leather bag in his pocket with great care, looks up, smiles, and says,

“Bring me the finest liquor and meat available.”

The owner doubted his ears.

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