Page 188 of Forcing Fate

We arrived in a timely manner and passed our horses off to the stableboy of the Dragons Beard Inn. I looked around at the strangers milling about and felt lost. I had never been outside Northwing beyond my early years. People walked and touched freely, perhaps because of the holiday…

“Vy, let’s go.” Rafe placed a palm between my shoulder blades. “Have you been outside the grounds?” he asked.

“No,” I whispered back, anxiety thrumming beneath my skin.

“Let me handle it.”

“No!” I grabbed his cloak when he moved to walk in front of me. “Please, I have to do this, Rafe.” I needed to be mature—more worldly. I couldn’t hide and allow myself to be locked behind the safety of the King’s gate.

He must have recognized the need in my face, because he shrugged and let me go.

I headed for the door and opened it. The smell of hot food, warm cider, and wood smoke wafted out onto the breeze. Laughter spilled out onto the street. Shouted conversations overwhelmed me, and I stood there with wide eyes, gaping at the scene before me.

Women bustled about with trays laden with drinks and food, serving the patrons. Most of the people seated at the tables were men, with few women scattered about. The maids—barmaids, whatever they might be—weaved through the crowd, dodging and juggling dishes as if it was as easy as breathing.

“Shut that door!”

I jumped at the shout of a man at the table closest to me. His wizened old eyes peered at me as he shivered away from the draft. Rafe’s heat pressed against my back and the old man lifted his gaze to Rafe, then dropped it with a curse.

I stepped in and wandered to the counter. Was this where I found the innkeeper?

“What will it be?” An older man with missing teeth shouted from further down the bar.

I shifted uncomfortably. “I’d like a room.”

“I said, what can I get ye?” he yelled again.

“I’d like a room!” I called a little louder.

He glanced around me, found Rafe, then looked back at me. He paused in drying a mug and eyed Rafe again. “Yer daughter say something to me?” he asked.

I didn’t hear Rafe respond, but the man took a step closer and held a hand to his ear.

“Speak up, little girl!”

I ground my teeth. “I’d like a room!!” I shouted as loudly as I could muster.

The people crowded around us stopped and gaped at me and Rafe. The other patrons went about their day, but it felt as if the whole world stared at me.

“Aye, lass. All right then, no need to shout.” He laughed to himself and walked over. “It’s fifty silver a night. Prices are high, ‘tis a holiday, you know? We only have one room left,” he said, holding out his hand.

I clenched my toes in my boots and counted out the coin carefully and handed them to the man.

“One night. First meal is at the seventh chime. Don’t be late. We don’t serve stragglers. Bits! Bitsy! A room!” he bellowed over the clamor.

A woman weaved through the crowd. Her dress was pulled low, revealing her generous cleavage, and her bodice was laced so tightly it left little to the imagination.

“Right this way!” she called, waving to us.

I followed her, trying to dodge all the spilling drinks and flailing arms of the rowdy crowd. She led us up a stairwell tucked in a corner to the second floor. It was quieter up here. She stopped at the end of the hall near a lone door.

“Name?” she asked, pursing her lips at Rafe.

“Avyanna of Gareth,” I said firmly.

“Oh!” She glanced between us. “I’ll write that down, sweetling. Now, you sir, if you need someone to watch your dau–”

“Go.”

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