I was already awake when Iris began to stir beside me.
Head resting against my arm, her eyes fluttered open, exhaustion from the night before helped little by the shaking of a carriage which now moved at a pace far in excess to what we'd experienced when leaving Coral. But back then, the merchant hadn't aimed for a city infamously raised around the hull of a corsair's ship.
Although his willingness to indulge us in tales of heroic feats had lessened considerably since Magnus's kind words, he had in true mercantile fashion taken it as another opportunity, even if it was somewhat forced. Farming was not one of Blackrose's preeminent industries. Assuming he arrived in time to set up his stall before everyone else, he would be able to sell off even common foodstuffs at a significant mark up. And it just so happened he had more than just potatoes to offer as well.
"The dried fruits will cover the expenses alone," he said, speaking to himself but at a volume which could be heard by the birds only beginning to rise. "Of course, winter is over so everyone will be pitching their fresh fare. But that doesn't mean there's no market for prunes. No, the price will triple. It'll be a commodity. The nobility adores it still. Oh, what wonderful fate that the Goddess would invite this detour."
I held back a snort.
If Magnus smiling was the Goddess sending a signal, then I was going to join up with the Demon King.
Iris pulled slightly away from my arm and blinked at the hills peeking at us from the back of the carriage. Even half-lidded with fatigue, those blue eyes sparkled more than the coastline in the distance.
Distance being the key word here.
Iris let out a small groan, then planted her head on my arm again. She closed her eyes, far too weary to even complain at the rumbling of the carriage or the merchant's chatter.
I smiled, then leaned the side of my head atop the girl so filled with warmth beside me. Her hair smelled faintly like the embers of last night's campfire. But it was nothing compared to the musk of dried sweat and more that was still permeating from her.
It was too dark to seek the river to bathe in last night, and the merchant was adamant we wouldn't waste time in the morning. So now she smelled like she did throughout the evening.
Of immorality.
I gently clasped my hand against hers, unable to help wondering whether beneath her white skirt she was finally satisfied. She'd been taken by Magnus in that same, intimately facing position for over an hour, and yet I knew that had she been undisturbed in the privacy of an inn, she would have indulged in his powerful arms until her sweat dripped off the bed.
I forced myself to keep my breathing relaxed. It was easier than keeping the rest of me calm.
If only I could take a leaf out of Magnus's book, who unlike myself and Iris could snooze his way through bumpy carriages and battlefields alike.
~ ~ ~
The eastern gate of the port city was a peaceful affair. Here, there were no barricades or war traps lining the road, or crossbows and throwing spears aimed at our approach. The Demon King's fury hadn't reached this part of the kingdom, although I was still surprised by the leniency of the local guardsmen.
The soldiers of the Blackrose Watch waved the narrow queue of carriages in, the traffic piling up by virtue of every other gate being owned by the local merchant captains, and thus requiring a toll. Only the sole entrance still governed by the port was free to enter. Blackrose made its money through its sea connections and less with its surrounding neighbours.
Our carriage passed through the gate. Immediately we were swamped by the sounds and cries of the city's Trade District, which despite its name constituted almost half of the city's total area. Goods poured in from the docks, met by the commoners and aristocrats weaving in and out from their respective residential districts. All throughout was a cacophony of noise as merchants braved the reputation of this infamous port to advertise their wares beneath walls faded from the salt air.
We'd arrived at the Freehaven of Blackrose, at last.
"And that should be your payment," said the merchant, only looking mildly aggrieved as he flung a small coin bag at us as we left the carriage. I reached out and snatched it before one of the locals did. "And should you seek passage back … well, I expect I'll be unavailable. I have prices to gauge and riches to be made."
And with that rather straightforward offer of absolutely no more help to come, the merchant delved into the heart of the city. Whether or not he came out as the street's newest captain or newest beggar was up to the whims of the city. And in that, I didn't envy him.
At least adventurers knew how much reward was at the end of a commission. The commission itself may be full of unknown hazards, but a dark tunnel was easier to cross when light was clearly visible on the other end.
"The salt air," said Iris, wrinkling her nose. "I'd forgotten how deeply unpleasant it was."
"You'll forget about it again," I replied optimistically. "It only feels like it's invading you all the way into your eyes the first few days."
Iris peered around, clearly searching for the newest place of refuge. She didn't need to look long. Here in the Trade District's main street, almost every building was either a store, an inn, or a building which could claim to be both. Signs hung from every door, while cloaked peddlers and open crooks lined up wherever a gap opened up.
Company which only appealed to one person here.
Magnus made no effort to hide his smirk as he watched a man filch a coin purse, only to receive a broken lip for his trouble. There wasn't even a hint of a stir at the commotion. The victim of the crime walking away as though brushing off rain from his nose, but not before swiping a few fallen coins from the floor. Those hadn't been from his purse.
Rich and poor were starkly juxtaposed in this city of decadence, but only in matters of wealth. Everyone was the same greedy bastard.
"Sorry lot, aren't they?" said Magnus, eyeing yet another would-be thief stalking the crowds. "If they have hands for thieving, they have hands for holding weapons and shooting quarrels."
"Soldiering and adventuring are not careers for the desperate," replied Iris with a frown. "If people are in need, they should be helped, not sent to die."
Magnus shrugged.
"Royal Army can help them. They'll take in anyone. And dying's a lot better than what they're doing now."
Iris looked like she had a treatise's worth of responses to that, but opted to keep her silence instead. Maybe a small part of her agreed that the cause of the kingdom was such that any hand not helping was a hand wasted.
I decided to interrupt before this actually became a topic of discussion. There was a time and a place, and it wasn't in the middle of the main promenade with eyes on our purse strings.
"We should find an inn," I said. "Or choose one, I suppose. If you happen to see–"
"S-Sorry!!"
Suddenly, I was stopped mid-sentence by the arrival of a young boy smashing directly into my abdomen.
Not being made of stone like Magnus was, I was forced back by the force of the collision.
"Sorry! I'm sorry!" said the boy, propelling past me but managing to stay on his feet. "Sorry! I have to go and–"
And now it was my turn to stop him. This time in the middle of his getaway explanation.
I rolled my eyes even as I grabbed onto his arm, before tugging him towards me.
"Really?" I said, making sure he knew exactly how unimpressed I was. "As soon as we get here? Couldn't you pretend to wait before bumping into the newest face you see?"
"Sir! I'm sorry! I'm sorry!"
"It's fine," I said, still unable to be too mad at a kid. They all had their circumstances. "Just give me back my … hm?"
I patted myself down with my other hand, feeling my coin pouch still there.
Just to make sure, I fiddled with the lid and felt it was still tightly secure. And then I gave the rest of my equipment a quick brush-over. Everything was there.
I let go of the kid's arm, but still kept my frown on. I wasn't going to offer any apologies just because I had a better lock on my belongings than most. My suspicions were proved when the boy immediately scampered, not looking back as he effortlessly slid between the throngs of people without once stumbling.
Behind me, Magnus chuckled.
"Hah. Figures. Three of us and it had to be you, eh?"
"It's because I'm the most approachable," I said, sighing. It wasn't even a lie. Magnus looked like a human weapon and Iris either scared men or drew them towards her. Usually both. "Now as I was saying, we need an inn, so look around and tell me if …"
I paused, then glanced at Magnus's set of pouches.
Or rather, the one that was missing.
Catching my eye, he scanned for the only valuable thing on his person other than his halberd.
I'm sure he said something horrific at that very moment, but it was overridden by the sweet sound of laughter Iris was making. Ordinarily, she'd detest such a wasteful loss of coin. But I could understand why she found humour in this.
It was Magnus, after all. And what little money he had, she'd undoubtedly prefer he lose it to a boy than to a whore.