"There's 2 pounds in here, I'll come back in around two days. So don't use up all the money, I've only given you that much for emergencies."
"Yeah, yeah. I understood. Now get out of here or else you'll miss your train." Adem dismissed Casper's words, waving his hands as he cuddled with Sera.
Casper's lips twitched as he delivered one tight punch to the top of Adem's head, "Don't you forget this is my house alright."
Adem clutched his head and whined, "Bastard that actually hurts!"
Casper chuckled, "Good."
…
The train screeched into the Tingen Central Station just as the sun dipped low. Casper stepped off the platform, carrying his suitcase.
He quickly took a carriage to a small inn near Daffodil Street which was about 2 pence in total, an astonishing price — in Backlund this would cost at least 8 pence.
Casper walked into the front desk and greeted the innkeeper, an elderly woman with silver-streaked hair and thin spectacles perched on her nose. She looked up from her ledger and smiled faintly.
"Evening, miss. One room for two nights," Casper said, placing two soli on the counter.
The woman slid the two notes into a drawer and handed him a brass key. "Second floor, room twelve. Breakfast's at seven — don't be late if you want it warm."
Casper smiled warmly, nodding his thanks before heading up the staircase.
He quickly reached his room, it was small but tidy, with a modest bed pressed against the wall and a wooden desk below the window.
Casper set his suitcase on the bed and sighed. He loosened his tie, slipped off his coat, and began shifting into cozier clothes.
He stretched his body and jumped into the bed, which creaked slightly under his weight. The mattress was firm, the sheets smelled faintly of lavender and soap.
I wonder how I should introduce myself. This is going to be so fun! Casper giggled as he kicked his legs in the air.
After a moment of thinking Casper put together a small list about things he wanted to do in Tingen. I wonder if Darkwill left the city yet?
'Oh well. I'll figure that out later, he silently thought to himself and got up from the bed before stepping out of the room. His footsteps echoed lightly on the old wooden floorboards as he made his way downstairs.
The innkeeper was still behind the counter, now knitting something gray and woolly. She looked up when Casper approached.
"Back so soon, dear? Forgot something?" she asked with a knowing smile.
"Not quite," Casper replied cheerfully. "I'm looking for a place called Smyrin Bakery. I heard it's somewhere nearby — could you tell me where it is?"
The woman's eyes brightened with recognition. "Ah, Smyrin's! Yes, it's quite close. You'll find it if you follow Daffodil Street down to the fountain square.
"Take the left at the cobbler's shop. It's the second storefront with the white shutters and the smell of fresh bread."
Casper smiled gratefully. "Got it. Thank you, miss."
…
The walk to Smyrin Bakery was quite pleasant, the evening air blew against Casper's face as he strolled down Daffodil Street.
He reached the fountain square just as the innkeeper described, turning left past the cobbler's shop where rows of sturdy boots gleamed in the window he spotted the second storefront right away.
Pushing open the door, a small bell chimed cheerfully overhead, and a rush of sweet aroma enveloped him.
Behind the counter was a stout old woman with completely grayish white hair who wore a genial smile.
"Welcome, dear! You're just in time for the first batch of sweet rolls."
Casper's eyes sparkled as he inhaled deeply. "They smell amazing. I think I'll take two, please. And maybe a loaf of brown bread for later."
"You've got a good nose," the woman chuckled, sliding the soft rolls onto a tray behind her.
Just then another chime rang out.
A pale and thin girl entered the bakery. She had a puff of baby fat on her face and looked slightly downcast.
When Ms. Smyrin glanced at her, the genial smile on her face was instantly wiped. "Oh Melissa, I heard about what happened with your brother. Such a shame!"
Melissa Moretti stiffened at Mrs. Smyrin's words, her pale cheeks flushing slightly as she clutched the edge of the counter.
"Thank you, Miss Smyrin," Melissa uttered with strain.
Casper turned his head over, his eyebrows raised.
"I'll take three donuts," she said slowly.
Mrs. Smyrin nodded sympathetically, turning to fetch the donut. "Fresh from the oven, dear," she said, placing it gently into a paper pouch. "That'll be one and a half pence."
Melissa reached into her pocket, fumbling to get her coin pouch. But before she could open it, Casper intervened.
"It's on me," Casper said lightly, sliding the money over.
Melissa blinked, startled. "What?"
Casper grinned. "I'm just passing it forward."
Melissa's lips parted, but no sound came out for a second. "That's not necessary, really—"
But Casper had already tipped his fedora towards Ms. Smyrin, who accepted the money with a knowing smile. "Always nice to see gentlemen with manners," she said, wrapping Melissa's donut and passing it over.
Melissa took the bag gratefully, "Thank you," she said kindly.
Casper smiled, a warm smile, a genial smile and a knowing smile.