We resume walking. The road eventually leads us to a small crossroads village nestled between the hills. Lantern light spills from the windows of a modest inn near the center of the square, the low murmur of conversation drifting through the evening air.
Elowen glances toward it.
“An inn.”
“A practical solution.”
“You’re sure the villagers won’t mind a demon renting a room?”
“I will behave.”
“That is not reassuring.”
Despite her teasing tone, she allows me to guide her toward the door. The innkeeper barely looks up from his ledger as we enter, too busy arguing with a patron about the price of ale to pay much attention to the travelers passing through his door.
A few coins secure us a room on the second floor. The moment the door closes behind us, the quiet of the small chamber settles gently around the space.
A single candle flickers on the bedside table. Elowen exhales slowly.
“This feels strange.”
“How so?”
“Yesterday we were standing in the ruins of a village.”
“And today?”
“Today we’re renting a room like normal travelers.”
I step closer.
“You would prefer another catastrophe?”
“No,” she says quickly.
Her laughter follows a moment later.
“Definitely not.”
For several seconds we simply stand there.
“You never answered my question earlier.”
“Which one?”
“Where we’re going.”
I brush a strand of hair away from her cheek.
“Wherever we choose.”
Her eyes soften.
“That sounds like the beginning of something.”
“It is.”
She reaches for my hand.
