Lanthold was the primary and administrative capital city of the great dukedom, Eldermead. It was the third most fortified city in the entire realm, and it was governed by the fifth most powerful noble family.
The Capital Market was outside Lanthold's core, so once Darien smuggled his body through, he found himself in the middle of a bustling city. To make sure he wasn't being followed, Darien looked back at the big steel-like wall that remained manned by capable guards. Luckily, he had slipped in without a trace.
"Watch it, girl!"
Darien jolted aside as a stocky man rushed past, struggling to steer a barrow bloated with goods beneath a white canvas blanket. The wooden wheels of the barrow rattled with so much noise on the cobblestones, but that noise was nothing compared to the collective market's at large.
This one was the outer primary market, a place of major principal trade for the city, sourced straight from the Capital Market. Here, goods were considerably the standard price or possibly even cheaper than in the other inside secondary markets of the city. Many people came here to buy and sell; that was why it was crowded.
The smell of fruits, fish, meat, ink, sawdust.... Darien wasn't sure if he had ever been this mesmerized before!
But he couldn't see due to his short height. The forest had trees. This market had people! Everyone's body pressed shoulder to shoulder, swaying like waves, their elbows brushing, feet stomping, and traders shouting over fellow traders. Darien saw only cloaks and sleeves, and the darting of other children like himself weaving in and out of the towering adults.
Eventually, the bustling became too extreme and suffocating.
The sky was getting dark, and people began to rush. Vendors were yelling louder than before, trying to snatch last-minute buyers. Darien saw someone unremorsefully shove past an old woman, knocking down her crate of onions. The woman yelled, but the adolescent was long gone into the chaos.
Fish, sweat, dust. Darien initially admired it, but it was becoming something else. He was used to chaos back on Earth, but this was turning into more than chaos. Some slithering pickpockets caught his eye, and he was grateful to have made an Inventory skill.
The city was divided into four districts: outer, low, middle, and high. Darien was currently traversing his way to the low district since it was the smallest and narrowest.
"Evening is approaching! I have to find shelter! Maybe an inn?!"
Eventually, Darien arrived at the low district of Lanthold. As expected, the low district was the underbelly of a grand city like Lanthold, filled with the poor and the average. There were not many guards, but there was still very impressive civilization and good housing occasionally.
Trading appeared to remain the major occupation here too, but Darien was sure there would be more like pointsmithing, trinketing, tailoring, and lodging. He specifically went in search of an inn to lodge himself in, moving through groups of people that were speeding up their activities as nighttime approached.
Without much search, Darien found one inn. It was easy to find because it was the most remarked inn in that area. It was big, wide, and filled with many customers.
When Darien, his small frame and unique appearance, walked inside the inn, he drew the attention of many. However, he had to walk out the same way because the price they called was beyond his current provision: 2 gold and 5 silver pieces.
"One night, no meal. If you want supper, that's two. Don't like it? Scramble away."
Darien was beginning to learn just how cruel this world, Valurion, was. He spent the entire dusk searching for a place to stay with the 15 silver pieces and 9 copper pieces he had. From the dark alleyways and heavy halo that cloaked this district, Darien knew it wouldn't be in his best interest if he decided to sleep without shelter.
The second inn he discovered asked for 20 silver pieces, claiming that prices had gone up. At least they were more hospitable than the first. The host even gave him clear directions to the next inn where he believed 15 silver pieces would suffice.
But when Darien arrived, they phrased the same complaint about rising prices. Darien, who had received lots of compliments just in the minutes he had been in Lanthold, thought he would get pretty privilege, but the host sternly insisted on 18 silver pieces, just above his pocket's total.
"A girl like you can 'work it off.' Else, go try one of them tumblehouses."
A tumblehouse was a subpar inn that fell short of every standard a regular inn featured. Hence, they were very cheap, but at the cost of safety and security because all sorts of people came in there.
'Since everyone thinks I'm a girl, I'd definitely be harassed by men if I sleep in such a place!'
Darien clutched his fist as he thought about what this host meant by 'work it off.' Does it mean: wash the dirty dishes? Wash the bedsheets? Or something else that was tied to the métier of the female gender?!
Before Darien could make a decision, an aged lady in the inn, who had come to directly purchase herbs from them, stopped him. Her voice came out grainy as she held Darien's hand with concern.
"Oh… child. What are you doing here all alone? A place like this isn't for the young."
Darien opened his mouth to speak to the warm old woman, but the words didn't come out.
"Don't worry, sweetheart. I'll take you in. You can stay in my house. There's no rent to pay, but you'll help out in the kitchen and chores with my granddaughter."
"Oh… thank— thank you, ma'am."
The god of luck had visited Darien bountifully, and he had now gotten everlasting shelter without paying a dime. His samaritan, the old lady, couldn't resist herself as she played with a strand of his silver hair, noting just how natural it was.
"Come on then, this city is no kind place. My granddaughter has made a tasty porridge—you'd love it, and I'm sure you'd also become good friends."
Darien happily followed the woman to her house, which was something he had never seen before. He couldn't even tell if it was a house because it looked like something that grew in the residential line by accident.
It was tucked in between two bigger buildings, with a sunken doorway and a slanting roof. It reminded Darien of The Hobbit back on Earth, and the thought made him excited for some adventure.
'I wonder if I should tell this old lady that I'm a boy and not a girl... but maybe it's the very idea that I am a girl that gave me this luck. She might just turn me away if I say so now.'
Darien chewed his lip, then quietly inhaled to summon the courage as they entered the house. But before a word could leave his lips, a voice floated in from the back:
"Grandma, the stew's beginning to boil again!"
Thuds of feet followed, and the girl that stepped into view looked just the same age as Darien, possibly older. She had pale brown hair that had strong hints of red, and it was tied into a loose braid that fell over one shoulder. Her lips were thin, and her hazel eyes were warm and filled with immediate curiosity upon seeing the foreign figure.
Darien gulped at the sight of the beauty, and he knew he would 100% not be brought to this home if he was perceived a boy instead. The old lady had just made it clear that she always sought to protect young girls, so it was an obvious outcome.
'It's too late… I'm in big trouble.'
"Grandma, you didn't say we were having guests."
Mirielle, the granddaughter, folded her arms.
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A/N: Just to clarify: our MC is 100% male. He only happens to look girlish for now because of his age and build. This isn't a gender-bender story, just a funny little misunderstanding arc.