“Raina,” the inn proprietor says to her. “Show the lord and his... girl... to their room.”
Some hot, uncomfortable emotion sprouts up inside. His? I want to spit, but hold my tongue.
“Sure thing, boss man,” she replies in a singsong voice, practically skipping up to Adom.
Adom helps me dismount. I avoid touching him more than is necessary, and my feet land in what I hope is only a mud puddle. Raina takes us up a long flight of uneven stairs and through narrow and stuffy hallways. The scent of roasted partridge and whiskey coats the walls, and as we thump through the corridors, doors open and curious eyes peek out at us, watching our procession toward the room at the end of the hall. Raina unlocks the door and swings it open with a flourish.
“Here’s your room, my lord,” she gushes, fing
