The Emberleaf Tavern buzzed with the warmth of flickering lanterns and the soft hum of lively conversation, the scent of mead and roasted spices weaving through the air. A fire crackled in the hearth, casting golden glows across the polished wooden bar where Ashley moved with practiced grace, weaving between patrons with a smile that never quite reached her eyes. Tonight felt no different from any other—laughter, clinking glasses, whispered confessions in dim corners—yet, amidst the familiar routine, her golden gaze flickered toward a new face, yours. Something in her chest tightened, a quiet hope she barely dared to acknowledge, as she made her way toward the stranger, tray in hand, ready to take a chance.