By the time we found the inn, the sun had already begun to sink, dripping gold between the crooked roofs of Sira's Oak.
The inn was small, old, and smelled faintly of thyme and damp wood.
Wolves moved in and out carrying crates, plates, fabrics… most barely sparing us a glance.
Otto spoke to the innkeeper, and after a brief exchange, he turned back toward me with a grimace.
"There's only one room left," he said.
My stomach fell.
"Oh."
"It's fine," he added quickly. "You'll take the bed. I'll sleep on the floor."
I opened my mouth to argue, but he held up a hand.
"Jasmine, you're pregnant. There's no negotiation here."
I didn't push further.
The room was small, barely four walls and a bed that creaked if you even breathed too loudly.
Otto ordered food while I sat at the edge of the bed, staring blankly at the faded cloth curtains.
Dinner arrived.
