It seems like the topic of the bartender’s husband got him to open up a little bit. You decide to ask more, being careful not to touch the subject of why he doesn’t own the bar anymore.
“Ah, that’s lovely”, you continue. “How did the two of you meet?”
The bartender’s single eye looks away for a moment, as if meditating whether it was a question worth answering.
“We met here. A long time ago”, he replies. “My company stopped here one night. Everyone wanted to drink and party. Me? I wanted to hear the bartender’s stories all night. We left in the morning and continued to Ballastos, to serve in their army.”
“A mercenary, I see.”
“Not anymore”, he replies, looking down. “We lost a lot of men and disbanded. Had just enough funds to make it halfway back home. Found myself here again, and the owner remembered me. I asked if I could stay a while and help out to earn a place to sleep.” He chuckles. “Let’s just say the bartender was very quick to offer one.”
You can’t help but smile, both from the sweetness of the story and the bartender’s more talkative mood. “And you’ve been working here since?”, you ask.
“Yes. Since we fell in love here, we wanted to encourage similar encounters, and started hosting the Lone Rose event.” His face goes somber once again. “They were… livelier, back then. I’m not a good host. Not as good as he was.”
You try to cheer the poor man up. “Well, I’m enjoying myself, and met plenty of interesting people tonight. You’re not doing a bad job at all.”
The bartender gives you a faint but sincere smile. You didn’t consider the man an option before, but now that his face is not stuck in a permanent scowl, you feel more receptive to his rugged looks, strong arms and broad, hairy chest. Although perhaps getting his hopes up when you’re interested in someone else might not be a good idea.