Chapter 37
Chapter Thirty-Seven
After twenty-four torturous hours on their mount, the inn came into view. It was shabby, with a thatched roof and stone exterior. Orla thought the little inn couldn’t have held more than a half a dozen rooms.
They dismounted from the horse, who was near exhaustion, handing the reins over to a young stable hand before Owain paid him a few copper coins to take extra care of the steed.
The door to the inn was a chipped red, and it creaked loudly when they entered.
On the bottom floor of the inn appeared to be a tavern.
Orla was surprised to see how many people were in the tiny tavern, creatures of all kinds.
A few minotaurs, several witches, nymphs, and orcs.
Even a chimera sat at the far end of the bar.
It reminded her of The Boars Head tavern in Imsil that she enjoyed so much with Cessly and Rhyan.
Though this one was much shabbier and far smaller.
Owain walked over towards the barmaid, an attractive lamia with red hair and freckles along her pale face. The snake portion of her body was long and elegant. When she saw Owain, her face broke out into a wide smile.
“Haven’t seen you in these parts in quite some time, m’lord.”
Oh, they knew each other. Orla didn’t know why but a twinge of annoyance hit her when she saw how the pretty lamia looked at Owain.
“Vasha, it has been some time.” He smiled at her before taking her hand and giving it a squeeze. Now Orla was very annoyed. She told herself it was the long ride and her desire to have a warm meal that was the cause of her irrational emotions.
The lamia, Vasha, beamed up at Owain. Orla cleared her throat. To her surprise, Owain pulled her close to him by her waist.
“Orla, Vasha.” He inclined his head towards the woman.
“Vasha, this is the incomparable Orla.” Vasha raised an eyebrow, clearly noticing Owain’s hand around Orla’s waist. “We will need a room. We are going to be staying here a night or two while we wait for Chrys to join us.”
“Chrys will be joining you? Gods and devils, he’ll drink this place dry. Second floor, end of the hall on yer left,” Vasha said as she gave Owain a key.
The room was sparsely decorated. There was a large four-poster bed, a wardrobe, and a small hearth. Owain let her know that the bathing chambers were communal and down the hall.
“One bed?” Orla asked, raising an eyebrow at him.
“Every room in this inn only has one bed. I can sleep on the floor if it makes you more comfortable.”
Orla nodded, looking at the hard, stone floor. It would be an uncomfortable night’s sleep, possibly even more so than the hard ground they had been sleeping on for days.
“So, how do you know Vasha? She seemed taken with you.” Orla was not a jealous person, but seeing the lamia beaming at Owain made her stomach clench uncomfortably. Clearly, he had to know her well from her reaction. And she knew Chrys.
“She’s an old friend. This is the village of Staazer, the only way station before you enter Iridaceae, so I’ve been here several times over the years when I go to visit my mother’s coven.”
“Hmm.” She sat on the bed, noticing how the room warmed around them like an embrace. Owain’s magic.
“And did you court her?” She tried to make the question sound nonchalant, but by the way Owain bit back a smile, she knew she had failed.
“Jealous?”
“Curious,” she deadpanned.
“No, I didn’t court her. Now if you’re asking if I bedded her, then the answer is yes.” Orla fought back a frown, instead turning away from him. She felt his weight shift the bed as he moved to turn her towards him. “But that was a long time ago, and I am no longer interested.”
“It’s none of my business anyway, we don’t have any claim to one another. Not anymore at least. Maybe we never did.”
Owain let out a deep sigh as if pained by Orla’s words.
Gently, he touched her cheek before moving off the bed. “Let’s get changed and go downstairs for supper.”
When they returned down to the dusty tavern, Orla was surprised to find that there were even more people than when they arrived an hour ago.
“Where are all of these people coming from?” From what Orla could tell, there wasn’t a town around for several miles, and they were on the border between Emmental and Iridaceae, which she always thought of as a de facto no-man’s-land due to the tension between the realms.
“Most come from the towns near Iridaceae. For the most part, Elves aren’t allowed into Iridaceae, but other creatures move freely along the border.”
“I’ve always wondered why Elves aren’t allowed in Iridaceae,” Orla mused.
“Magical hierarchies aren’t enforced in Iridaceae. The lamia or the ogre is no more revered than the witch or the nymph. That goes against everything the Elven kingdoms stand for. The leadership in Iridaceae fears that if Elves travel freely through their lands that Elven superiority will follow.”
It made sense. Elves thought highly of themselves and considered all other magical creatures as less than. It wouldn’t surprise Orla if some Elven king decided he wanted to conquer more of the continent and subjugate other magical creatures even more.
As they made their way through the surprising crowd, Orla found a small table near the window while Owain went to the bar. He returned with two plates of food and two large tankards of ale.
The two ate in companionable silence before moving on to their drinks. Once Orla was finished with hers, Vasha slithered towards their table and set down a second tankard.
“I didn’t order this,” Orla said.
“I know. She did.” Vasha gestured towards an orcess at the bar who winked at Orla.
Orla suppressed a small smile. In another lifetime, she would have happily flirted with the beautiful orcess.
She was large and had prominent tusks and a deep green skin that Orla would have found extremely appealing.
That was before Owain. Her attraction to him dimmed the beauty of all others.
She was about to shake her head and refuse the drink when she saw Vasha run her hand along Owain’s neck and shoulder as she slithered away.
Orla knew it wasn’t rational, and she knew she was being immature, but the touch rankled her, even if Owain hadn’t initiated it.
“I should go thank her,” she said, rising to walk towards the female at the bar.