Upon entering the inner chamber, Ethan took in the sparse furnishings and quickly realized it was little more than a place to sleep. There was a small wooden table pushed against the wall, and beside it a narrow bed with tangled, unmade sheets. A faint sour odor lingered in the air, the unmistakable smell of someone who lived alone and did not care much for appearances.
"Apologies for the mess, young man. When you live alone, you tend to let things slide," Master Roger said, clearly noticing Ethan's expression. He looked mildly embarrassed as he reached over and gave the bedclothes a half-hearted tug, straightening them just enough to pretend he had tried.
