They stayed together at first, taking the many steps downward, and walking the tightly-packed main floor, until Eostre let out a yelp of glee and took off in another direction.
She was like a child, and her energy was infectious.
She began straight for an open wagon that had colorful gowns of silk hanging from clips. She fingered one gown that matched her eyes and he smiled, happy to see a look of absolute wonder come to her face.
Hours were spent in the Merchant's Square, and Eostre bought herself two new gowns, and new trousers, tunics, and fancy cloaks and boots for Aros and the twins. Once they finished up, they were starving and headed up to a lodging.
"The Prancing Peacock?" Helgi said, making a face as he read the name of the inn.
Aros shrugged. “Sounds expensive," he said, and Eostre shrugged.
"A worthy investment," she said, with a smirk.
They walked inside, and it was indeed fancier than any inn they'd ever been to. The walls were paneled with shiny wall paper, and there was a large mirror in the center of the main wall where several plush seating chairs were set up. The guests however, were a mixture between merchants and visitors from all across the realm.
Easterners, no doubt. No one ever came from the west. The west of the red river belonged to the humans and the mages who had escaped persecution.
Amalia had escaped from the west, and he'd never met anyone else like her.
These people were a diverse mix of fae, shifters, and the tall humans of the far east, whose style was much different than any Aros had seen. He was intrigued by them, and the way their skin emitted a faint glow. It was said that they were descendant of a rare breed of fae, who lost their magic as the centuries wore on.
"One room," Eostre said to the innkeeper, who peered at them from behind large bifocals and a giant book with brass-lined pages.
Aros lifted a brow. "We cannot share. It just isn't done."
She cleared her throat, and placed her hand on the book. "Excuse me for one moment," she said to the innkeeper who removed his bifocals and sat back in his seat to observe. She turned to Aros. "Listen," she began, whispering. "I am not a bottomless pit of money. It's all I can afford."
His cheeks burned red and he nodded. "Sorry," he muttered, and she turned back to the innkeeper.
"One room," she repeated, and they exchanged the room rate for the evening.
"My wife will show you to your room," he said, still eyeing them critically.
A short woman with curly, white hair came from the back room behind the main desk, and wiped her hands on her gray apron. "This way, dears," she said, her voice warm and kind like that of a loving grandmother.
She led them up the carpeted stairs and to a hallway of several closed doors. She took out a chain of keys, and unlocked the door at the end of the right hallway just off the staircase. Inside, there were two large beds with bright, yellow dyed blankets and an open window that let in the fresh air of the fragrant back garden. A wash basin and brass pot of water were under the window. There was also a small table with two chairs.
One night in a room like that would make anyone want to stay.
"Chamber pots are by the bed, leave it outside your door and Mugsy will collect them and bring them back nice and clean. You get a warm breakfast in the morning and strong brew to set you off for your day."
Aros smiled at her. "Thank you, ma'am."
She nodded, looking them all over. Her eyes rested on Eostre, but she kept her mouth shut about whatever assumptions she had about the pretty girl with the three young men, and backed away, closing the door behind her.
Helgi and Magnus hopped onto the bigger bed, laying back and kicking their feet up. "Ah," Magnus said. "I could get used to this."
Eostre shoved his boots off the bed. "Don't," she said. "We only have enough for one night. Don't dirty the nice innkeeper's linens."
She turned to Aros, hands on her thin hips. "Looks like we're sharing a bed again," she said, giving him a wink.