The guesthouse Apnoch left them in was far from ordinary. Its walls were thicker than most places Damien had seen in his travels, its windows narrow slits reinforced with steel lattice, and its doors rune-etched for both defense and privacy.
It was like a private guesthouse for very important people. Damien and his group just managed to fit the requirements considering they were here under the order of General Ivaan. They were indeed VIP.
A fire crackled warmly in the hearth as servants laid out trays of food: roasted game, thick loaves of bread, and pitchers of dark spiced ale.
Lyone stared wide-eyed at the feast, but Arielle calmly motioned for him to wait until the servants retreated. Only when the door shut with a muted thunk did she allow herself a small smile. "Hospitality in a fortress kingdom. Seems our reputation hasn't preceded us here."
Damien, leaning against the wall, smirked. "Not yet. Let's keep it that way."
