The letter

Agusa and Zahra sat across from each other, mugs of alcohol clutched tightly in their hands. Their flushed faces betrayed their drunkness, but neither seemed ready to back down. They continued to chug mug after mug of beer, the wooden table between them creaking with their weight. Around them, a crowd of soldiers cheered loudly, their voices rising with each drink as if they were spectators at a grand battle.

"You damn woman!" Agusa growled, slamming his mug onto the table with a loud thud. He wiped his mouth roughly with the back of his hand, narrowing his eyes and locking onto Zahra. "I was personally chosen by General Luther to protect the king! So what are you even doing here, huh? This isn't your place."