You were a rather shy young thing when you served the guests in a tavern like every evening. Usually they were all drunk men playing cards, laughing loudly and asking for more ale. But that evening there was a group of men sitting at a table which seemed rather...scary. One, apparently a British soldier, kept an eye on you often enough, but it was hard to tell what he was thinking

When another one of the group, Hickey, slapped you on the butt, Jonathan snorted slightly annoyed