The girl who fell from the polar star - Side Story 2: Rye
“Phew, I’m tired . . .” Sighing, Rye slumped over a table, paying no mind to the disgruntled cries of the remaining customers. Recently, Glenn’s General Store had been less a store and more a cesspool of Stock Company thugs, who patrolled the surroundings at night, slept in the morning, and dedicated the rest of their time to drowning in tears of falling stars mixed with alcohol. And they had the gall to complain that their duties prevented them from going to a real tavern. Mace Stock’s handpicked crew. What a joke. I can’t blame Stella for wanting a bodyguard of her own. But even if Rye hated the idea of sharing a space with the likes of them, they hadn’t attempted any mischief so far. Rye knew why: the Stock Company couldn’t afford to offend Stella and lose the deal on that strange elixir of hers. These people wouldn’t think twice to hurt a child, but even they knew not to cross the line with Stella. Still, I don’t get why the Stock Company is so tolerant—no, afraid?—of her. They’re ...