Morning found Hajin hunched over the inn basin, splashing water on a face that still tasted like royal wine.
The water scrubbed away the wine without convincing his headache that the royal banquet deserved any fond memories at all. He dried off beside the window and rolled the bad shoulder, testing which arm could actually survive the coat today.
'Sponsor, a spell jammed into my forehead, and my roast surrendered to a wolf with a bigger appetite.'
Juna waited beside the stairs with one ear cocked his way, apparently recognizing his slower shuffle before he even appeared.
She sniffed the air as he reached the landing, nose wrinkling in open disgust, "You brought the palace wine home, and it refuses to leave."
"Loyal servant of the Crown," he croaked, gripping the rail as he limped down after her tail, "I'll ask if the sponsorship covers firing it."
"Ask quietly, your voice smells worse than your breath."
"That doesn't even make sense."
