The city of Rydan manifested in a blustering blur. The open, grassy front yard of the healing ward soon disappeared behind a brick wall where a quiet street gently trickled calm comings and goings into the mad river of a road piercing the land in two. The late afternoon rush filled the cobble sidewalks with an impenetrable flow of bodies while open top carriages cushioning their charges with intricate blankets of vivid colors presented a tempting opportunity. Desire remained as Lydie took a bold step into the throng and obediently followed its course, her feet must have walked crowded streets before, yet upon reaching a gathering of waiting carriages the price called out for a ride to the Fourth District continued her march. The money in her pouch allowed her one week’s stay at the Lavenmore Inn. Nothing more. Not even funds for breakfast and lunch. Seven kine for a ride was out of the question.

Lydie’s feet and back begged to differ, but the vibrancy of the city took her mind off the worst of the steadily growing ache. The sweetly damp smell of recent spring rain misted vigor into the air as a kind heat and comforting wind enhanced the delightful aroma of sauced meats from street vendors, carefully wrapped herbs from apothecaries, and light perfume from passing ladies in finely pressed cloths. The atmosphere bubbled with life. Among the expertly squared blocks of stores, offices, and a few impressive houses of a marbled gray stone and lacquered auburn wood, the citizens of Darshal milled, traveled, brushed by with pardons, and generally exuded a merriment one would not imagine from a people gone to war.

No, the shadows of the city and reality of the country’s state of affairs didn’t manifest until the majority of her journey was behind her. Elegant and intricate buildings became plain and unimpressive as the dress of the crowd morphed from delicate and well-kept to unadorned and worn. None bore the appearance of true poverty, yet Lydie understood she saw only the fringes of the worst hardships Rydan offered. The small alleyways off to the sides now impressed upon her a sense of dread no matter how much Ti’pahn promised that she would be safe. Her feet kept solely to the main road. Her chin remained raised and dancing relief retained the hopeful confidence she’d found. The folk who met her gaze all answered back with inviting smiles and small bobbing nods of approval. People were at least pleasant. A few did do double-takes, however. She only needed three instances for her to remember her eyes. The healing ward didn’t have many mirrors. Lydie hadn’t yet noticed another passer-by who also claimed a pair of God Eyes.

In her interest to test whether or not there was truth in the myth that she could catch what others could not by staring heavily at her surroundings, it took a minute of walking before the large fountain on her left nearly disappearing from sight reminded her of her destination. Lydie hurried back with cheeks lightly tingling in embarrassment. Kenth glancing this way and that to take in everything with eagerness and feet lightly kicking as he had been the whole way prompted a smile on her lips. The smaller road lined with two story buildings, stores on the bottom and living spaces on the top, boasted a welcoming image with colorful banners strung above while vendors crowded the sidewalks and bodies controlled the streets. Three lanes down a larger stand with a long queue for ‘the most tantalizing mulled quillick meat north of the mountain line’, or so the male owner hawking to the crowd claimed, prompted Lydie right. Less than a hundred feet in, the Lavenmore Inn sign swung lazily in the breeze caught between the buildings.

The rich scent of quillick meat had been torturous enough for her throbbing stomach, for food at the healing ward had gone right through her. Lydie craved a real meal with bursting flavor, and the aromas assaulting her nose the instant she walked through the front door promised such a delight. The inn’s wooden interior offered a subtle though calming glow as sunlight diffused from the rippled glass windows high along the wall. A large, cushioned dining area filled the majority of the first floor where a varied collection of patrons dominated half of it. A raised area in the corner offered room for performances, and across the other side of the Lavenmore a long bar held a modicum of men beginning their nightly drinks. A tall man with dusty skin, coarse black hair with matching bushy beard, and muscles stretching the dull gray shirt he rolled past his elbows called orders to his workers with a voice deep enough to rattle her chest. There was no doubt he was Vertinac.

“Pardon me.”

Their eyes met briefly as he acknowledged her presence before finishing his commands. It was Lydie’s turn to do a double-take. Vertinac showed himself to be the first other she’d seen to have God Eyes, although his weren’t readily apparent. Lighter brown on top and darker brown on bottom, the two shades could easily mix into one. Ti’pahn had said that was the strange thing about such eyes. They often didn’t match either color of the person’s parents and could be any combination.

“What is it, lass?” Vertinac replied several seconds later.

“I’d like a room for him and me, please.” Lydie requested with the most pleasant smile she could muster.

Hopefully, with any luck, she wouldn’t even have to―

“It’ll be a nell and three for board and dinner for you and the babe.”

Damn.

“A nell and three?” she repeated curiously, her voice calm though her mind rattled anxiously.

“Aye.”

“That’s odd. My acquaintance who recommended me here told me board and dinner should be only a nell for the two of us.”

“Babes are loud. Annoyin’. Fuss like they’ve got the worst lot ‘n life. They bother the other patrons, so it’s only fair a little extra be paid so I can accommodate for the inconvenience,” Vertinac explained as if the words he spoke were kind, “No ‘ffense ta yours, of course.”

“Of course,” Lydie repeated dryly, her lips pursed and a bubble of anger pushing on her gut, “You’ll have to forgive me, however. I can’t see how a child could be any more bothersome than―”

Thank the Justiciar or Holy Whisper or whatever gods existed in Mirdal for the afternoon drunk that’d wandered from the bar towards some companions in the dining quarters. He silenced her words as his faltering state slammed him to the ground with his arm catching a large tin plate hanging over the edge of a nearby table. The plate soared across the room to hit another patron in the shoulder before rattling and clattering onto the floor. The food that had been on said plate splattered onto the drunk, who then proceeded to scream and yell as he flung the offending grits in every direction as a barmaid rushed to stop the theatrics. Vertinac narrowed his eyes as he watched the chaos and wouldn’t meet her gaze when she turned back to him, Kenth quiet and peaceful.

“A nell and four.”

“Wha―!”

Her gaze stung as hard as the owner’s now back on her. How ridiculous could the man be? How could he possibly be angry at her for the faults of another? Lydie’s luckily timed words added some embarrassment to the situation of a grown man throwing a tantrum, but being a stubborn oaf certainly only made the whole thing worse.

“I suppose I’ll simply head back to the Cham’l Inn and offer them an apology then. My acquaintance recommended me here, but I stopped there first. When I mentioned your establishment, they wouldn’t stop warning me away saying how terribly controlled the patrons were and how the owner was an unreasonable man with a petty temperament who made up prices to suit his whims. No offense to you, of course, sir. Those were their words, not mine. I left accusing them of being liars spreading hurtful claims to bolster their own business, but I can see I’ve been made a fool. Excuse me.”

Lydie stepped away from the bar with every intention to leave. Perhaps she could work this situation even further. She could actually go to the Cham’l Inn and alter the telling of events to get a room there for a nell.

“Wait!” Vertinac called.

Lydie had taken six steps. Vertinac scowled a heavy frown, but when three men with cheerful smiles and laughs entered the inn, took one look at the fuss of the overgrown child, and turned back onto the road with expressions of disgust it was clear the owner’s defeat was sealed. He snatched a key from a cork board behind the bar and slid it her direction as if it pained him.

“One nell per night. The left corner room ‘n the top floor. It’s even got its own bath.”

“Thank you.” Lydie’s bright tone sharply contrasted Vertinac’s gruff grumble as she placed the bronze coin on the counter.

Without wasting a moment or looking back, Lydie hurried to the stairs with the key in hand. The Lavenmore consisted of three floors, and the thrill of her victory had her ignoring Kenth’s weight pulling her down as the steep steps took her up. She wasted no time unlocking her room, stepping inside, and expunging the thick breath she’d held. The space before her helped ease her racing heart. Across the way a smooth glass window allowed her vantage to the street below. The bed rested along the same wall with a simple side table to the left. A long standing mirror had been snuggled into the opposite corner with a low dresser nearby, and an open door in the back right corner had to lead to the washing room.

Lydie focused on the bed. Concerned at first on how to let Kenth out of the sling without anyone to help, he took care of the problem by laughing and flopping back into the soft bedding as soon as she sat and loosened the cloth. Lydie joined his laughter before increasing it as she spun around to tickle his unguarded stomach.

“That worked out well enough, huh?” Lydie brought him onto her lap next, “I swore my heart was going to burst out of my chest though. Luck was on our side. We’ll be fine for a week.”

The words were spoken, yet a rebuilding ache in her head and deep gurgle in her stomach desperate for food threatened that they, indeed, might not be fine even for a week. Kenth, more interested in rolling around on the bed than sitting, kept busy as she found a cup in the washing room.

Cool water calmed her pounding gut for the moment.