“Over here,” Virelle called, her voice calm but carrying over the noise of the inn.
Lyra glanced up from the far table where she’d been pouring ale. She made her way through the crowd, her eyes flicking to their cloaked figures.
“Don’t think I’ve seen you two before,” she said as she reached their table.
“We’re just travelers,” Leila replied smoothly.
“We stopped here for the night.
Booked a room in the lodging wing of the inn.” Her tone was warm, unhurried. “And we thought we’d eat before heading back up.”
While Leila spoke, Virelle leaned back in her chair, her fingers brushing the hem of her cloak. Without looking up, she slipped a small charm from her palm into Lyra’s pocket smoothly.
Leila’s eyes never left Lyra’s face. “You’ve worked here long?”
“Long enough,” Lyra said. “A
