We are here

The walls loom over us now, towering, solid, and imposing. There’s something about them—something too much. Too thick, too well-maintained for a merchant town. This place used to be a border fortress, and it still feels like one.

The guards posted at the gate straighten as we approach. I instinctively shuffle closer to Nate, my fingers gripping his arm without even thinking. The excitement I felt earlier is gone in an instant, replaced by something colder. My pulse picks up. They’re watching us closely. Too closely.

Did I mess up? Did the veil slip? Is there some sign we missed—some tool they use to check for people like me?

The guard on the right makes a small gesture with his head. Move along.

That’s it?

I exhale as casually as I can as Nate flicks the reins. The cart moves forward, past the threshold of the city, and just like that, we’re in.

“You know you can let go of my arm,” Nate murmurs, keeping his voice low so only I can hear.

I blink, looking down at where my fingers are still curled around his sleeve.

“…Or not,” he adds, seeing that I make no move to let go.

I let my hand linger just a little longer before pulling away. I can’t explain why. Maybe I just needed that reassurance for a second. Or maybe I’m just not ready to let my guard down yet.

Nate clears his throat, breaking the silence. “Should we try an inn that’s not so close to the main road? The prices could be lower there.”

Huh. Not a bad idea. He’s getting better at thinking ahead—or at least, at living.

“Sure,” I say, scanning the streets. “See, there’s a sign.” I point at a small, weathered board hanging between buildings, swinging slightly in the evening breeze.

“Let’s check it out,” Nate says, pulling the reins to turn the cart.

###

The streets are narrowing as we move deeper inside. The buildings are taller than I expected—two or three stories at least. Not like the village. Not even the chief’s house had this many floors.

“Buildings are taller here,” I say, taking in the clustered structures of timber and stone.

“Yeah, back home everything’s ground level, isn’t it?” Nate responds absently, eyes flicking between the road and our surroundings.

I raise an eyebrow. “Didn’t you tell me you had buildings hundreds of meters tall?”

“Oh, yeah, we did,” he admits, rubbing the back of his neck. “I meant back in the village, you know…”

Ah. He meant our home. I wasn’t expecting that.

I glance at him, debating whether to tease him. Maybe later.

The streets are thinning out now. Shops closing, stalls being covered, doors locking for the night. We arrived just in time.

“Do you think they shut the gates at night?” I muse aloud.

Nate shrugs. “Probably. Wouldn’t want anyone sneaking in, right?”

That thought makes my stomach twist. What if we had arrived too late? What if we had been stuck outside those gates for the night, trapped between the road and the city’s walls? I shake it off. No point dwelling on it.

“This looks like it,” Nate says, stopping the cart near the entrance of the inn.

“I’ll go in and ask if they have a room and a place for the cart,” I say, hopping down.

“You sure?” Nate asks, glancing toward the entrance.

“Oh, come on. You did it last time.”

He sighs. “Fine, fine. Just be careful.”

Is he… worried about me? That’s new. How nice.

“Always am.” I give him an exaggerated bow before stepping inside.

The inn is quiet. Almost too quiet. No people at the tables. No clinking of mugs. No laughter.

“Excuse me!” I call out.

For a second, nothing. Then, footsteps. A man descends the stairs from the upper floor, brushing off his hands as he approaches.

“What… can I do for you?”

Why did he hesitate?

He looks young—maybe around my age or Nate’s. Blonde hair, green eyes. A vaguely familiar face, though I can’t place why.

I make my way to the counter, scanning the room as I go. That’s when I spot it—a board with handwritten prices tacked up behind him. Convenient. We can afford to stay for a few nights before needing to earn more coin. That gives us some breathing room.

“Do you have free rooms for tonight? Maybe longer?” I ask.

“Yes, yes,” he says, nodding quickly. Then, after a pause, “…Are you alone?”

I keep my expression neutral. Why does that matter?

“No, my husband is waiting outside with our cart. Speaking of, is there a place to leave our horse for the night?” I keep my voice light, steady.

“Husband…” He hesitates again, his brow twitching just slightly.

He’s suspicious. Not overtly, but something about this is making him second-guess. I can see it in his eyes.

“Well, yes,” he says finally. “There’s a gate on the right. You’ll find a small annex there for travelers’ horses.”

“Great,” I say with a polite smile. “I’ll be back in a moment.”

I step out of the inn, my mind racing. What was that about?

I guide Nate toward the annex where we leave the cart and horse.

“I wouldn’t have guessed there’d be a whole separate area for this,” he mutters, glancing around.

“Why wouldn’t there be? Inns need places for horses.”

“I’m just not used to how central horses are here,” he admits.

I smirk. “You and your carriages with no horses…”

We head back inside together. This time, the innkeeper is waiting at the counter.

“You can take the room on the top floor, left side,” he says.

Nate wordlessly pulls out the coins and places them on the counter. Ah, so he saw the price list too. He’s learning. I like this development.

The innkeeper slides the coins into his till and then pulls out a large ledger, flipping it open.

“May I have a name?” he asks, dipping his quill in ink. “If you have a last name, it would be preferable.”

Oh. Right. We never discussed this. Back home, last names weren’t something we used. But for this? I glance at Nate.

He hesitates only briefly before saying, “Uh… Kesler. The name is Kesler.”

The quill scratches across the page. “Thank you, Mister and Misses Kesler. Enjoy your stay.”

I glance at the innkeeper one last time as we climb the stairs. He’s watching us. Not in a threatening way, but… with curiosity. Why?

We reach our room. It’s better than the last inn. A wooden table and three chairs sit by the window, a fireplace is set into the wall, and—most importantly—a large, soft bed awaits.

The first thing I do? Collapse onto it. Spread eagle. Finally, something comfortable.

I stare up at the ceiling, exhaling. Io Kesler. Guess that’s my name now.

“I didn’t know you had a last name,” I say, turning my head to Nate.

He blinks. “Seriously? I never told you?” A pause. “Huh. I guess you’re right.”

How did I miss that? That’s not like me.

“Would’ve been nice knowing that I got a new name before, you know?” I say dryly.

Nate rubs his neck. “Sorry… you don’t have to—”

“Oh, no, I’m taking it,” I cut in, smirking. “Better get used to it.”

For the first time since we stepped into the city, I feel like I can finally breathe.

###

The room is warm, the scent of old wood and faint embers lingering in the air. The weight of the day settles over me as I glance toward Io, still sprawled across the bed in the exact position she collapsed into when we arrived.

“You know you can take that off, right?” I say, raising an eyebrow at the veil still covering her head.

She doesn’t move.

“And maybe change into something actually meant for sleeping?” I add.

“Sleepy,” Io murmurs, voice muffled by the pillow.

Now that’s not like her. I’ve seen her exhausted before—long days in the village, endless work, stubborn late-night planning—but this? This is new.

She lazily lifts a hand, barely pointing at her head. “Just take this for me.”

I sigh, moving closer. Standing above her, I carefully undo the veil, pulling the fabric away. A faint red mark is pressed into her forehead from wearing it all day. Without thinking, I reach out and gently rub the spot with my thumb.

Her eyes flick open slightly, watching me for a moment before closing again.

“Come on, at least eat something before you pass out for good,” I say, stepping back.

“Oh, good idea.” With unnatural speed, she suddenly sits up, fully alert.

So that was probably an act. Right. I should have expected that.

I shake my head as I move to unpack some food.

“Potatoes again?” Io asks, eyeing me as I pull out what we have left.

“Not this time. We should finish other things we brought before buying new food here.”

Io stretches her arms before reaching for a piece of bread. “Do you think the food here is different from what we have back home?”

“If the rumors are true and wheat’s scarce, there’ll probably be some differences,” I say, breaking a small piece of bread for myself.

“Then let’s enjoy this while we can.” She holds up her portion as if making a toast.

I smirk and tap my piece of bread against hers. “To the luxury of grain.”

For a moment, we just eat in silence. It’s simple food—bread, some dried fruit, a little smoked meat—but after the long ride, it tastes better than it should. The exhaustion of the day weighs heavy on both of us, and for once, even Io isn’t trying to fill the silence with quips.

Eventually, she leans back with a sigh. “So many things happened today…”

“Messenger, shrine, merchant, the guards, this inn…” She ticks off each event on her fingers.

“And we’re just getting started,” I add.

She lets out a small groan. “That’s for tomorrow. I’m going to bed.”

Io stretches out across the bed, arms above her head, fully claiming her space. It’s the second time we’ve had to share a bed like this. It feels… slightly less weird than before.

At least for me. Io doesn’t seem concerned at all.

I sit at the edge for a moment, rolling my shoulders, trying to shake the feeling of sitting on a cart all day.

“How long do you think we’ll be doing this?” I ask absently.

Io turns her head slightly toward me. “Sleeping in inns or pretending to be married?”

“…Both.”

She smirks. “As long as it works.”

That’s not much of an answer, but I let it go.

As I settle onto my side of the bed, Io shifts onto hers, facing away from me. The room is quiet except for the occasional creak of wood as the building settles for the night.

I let out a slow breath. We made it through the first day in the city. Tomorrow, things really begin.

“Good night, husband,” Io teases, her voice already half-asleep.

I roll my eyes, staring at the ceiling.

“…Good night, wife.”