Page 8 of The Song of Sunrise (The Prentice Teller #1)

Long Meadow Inn

R edrock is a relatively large town nestled between the pine covered hills and the Grass Plains that expand toward the western horizon. Breaking the two landscapes with a sprawling village centered around a small grid of mismatched store fronts, inns, and taverns.

With the Grass Plains taking up the majority of Midland, the Lus’Civitas devalues the territory compared to its Eastland large cities and Westland lavish culture and riches.

They will never admit their favoritism, but it is apparent in the lack of infrastructure investment leading to deteriorating village walls and roads—and apparently—abandoned WatchTower posts.

Even Goldenpine, as one of the main trading hubs of the north, has been slowly crumbling.

There has to be something I can do. It’s one thing to be overlooked by the Lus’Civitas, but another entirely to be left undefended, attacked by the Underworld.

A territory that is supposedly our allies!

The Lus’Civitas must not know about these attacks. That is the only logical conclusion as to why they aren’t holding the Underworld accountable for their actions. I have to believe it.

“The Long Meadow Inn is right up here,” Leaf says as we pass through a heavily armed gated entrance. Like Goldenpine, the town is surrounded by brick walls, except this one is fortified and still functioning. City officials are walking along the parapet, patrolling the entrance with rapt attention.

It’s as if I’m walking through an ancient village in my Tellings.

Holdings where the humans once defended their territories against the Elves during the Great Wars.

The time after the Breaking, yet before the New World Peace Treaty was signed between the humans, Elves, and Underlings and territories were drawn.

The Humans Territories were split in three: Midland, Westland, and Eastland. Then Elven Tribes to the expansive north and Underworld Courts maintained control underground.

Peace at last. Though I’m beginning to suspect otherwise based on the extra amount of security.

The huge metal portcullis opens as we walk into Redrock.

Though it is well past nightfall, many townsfolk are frequenting the shops, all of which appear to be made from a variety of materials.

Some wooden, some stone, but most uniquely, they all seem to be painted in a variety of once-bright colors now muted by years of enduring harsh winters.

Through the window of one establishment, two women are being measured with large swaths of matching orange fabric.

Across the road, a merchant is selling sugar-dipped pastries to giggling children likely awake well past their bedtime.

Music flows from a large stone tavern up the slightly inclined road.

An aura of excitement charges the air. People are laughing, dancing and eating. I cannot help but be enthralled by the lively community of Redrock, already imagining how I could spend my days exploring the different shops.

You would never know that another town two days’ ride from here was raided and pillaged. As I take in the sights, I bite my cheek until the copper taste of blood fills my mouth.

This is real.

Marrow is gone—I take a long shuddering breath—and I am safe.

Leaf leads us down another block to a three-story wooden building that is squished between two other much larger establishments, as if the owners decided to make the space work to the best of their abilities after the fact. The large front porch is sloping significantly, but no one seems to mind.

Two people in thick cotton aprons jump from rocking chairs on the far side of the porch to take our horses to the stables around back.

As we walk up the creaking stairs, Castor and Leaf take off their blue Watcher cloaks and tuck them discreetly under their arms.

I’m not so sure that will really make them less noticeable. Two tall, muscular men walking in, carrying at least ten visible weapons a piece and splattered in blood, isn’t exactly discreet.

I suppose I also might not look too great right now either. I look down and cringe at the sight of my beautiful white dress now stained with blood, mud, and who knows what else.

I blow away the loose strands from my braid and let out a breathless chuckle. We must look utterly ridiculous.

Leaf leads the way through the foyer. I follow, and Castor trails behind me, placing a light hand on my back for support or comfort or protectiveness, I’m not sure which.

But I don’t… hate it.

I try not to fixate on his fingers practically searing through the thin fabric of my dress.

A small check-in desk is nestled in the corner of the crowded room, and I’m hit with a fierce sense of familiarity. Like I’ve been here before. Or at least have an unspoken kinship with these people.

The entire floor is bustling with staff carrying large trays of food, half-naked women sitting on the laps of customers, burly men massaging the shoulders of travelers and townsfolk, and a smattering of occasional cats.

What type of Inn is this exactly?

As if hearing my thoughts, Leaf gives us a sly smirk over his shoulder before turning back to the desk, his shoulders bouncing in laughter.

“How can I help you, sir?” the boy behind the desk asks. He has to be no older than thirteen. It’s normal for children to work, but in a place with so much exposed skin, it seems a little… odd.

Leaf rests an elbow on the desk. “Three rooms please.”

The boy laughs. A short, bright sound. “Have you seen this place? We are fully booked.”

“Two rooms.” Leaf lays down a small pile of gold coins.

“Nope.”

“Fine. One room. And I think this will be more than accommodating.” Leaf slides a blue coin engraved with an ornate “W” slowly across the desk. The boy’s eyes go wide, recognizing the Watcher currency.

“A favor!” His voice squeaks in excitement as he quickly grabs the coin and pockets it. He looks from side to side, making sure no one saw the exchange. “Yes, yes. I think we can manage one room for you after all.”

He turns and calls over his shoulder to someone behind him, “Mom! Get me the key for 307.”

“Here you are, my dear.” A very curvy woman appears, silver keys dangling from her fingers.

Well, at least his mom works here too.

“There you be,” he says, handing us the key. “Third floor. Up the stairs, at the end of the hall.”

“Send up food, enough for six, laundry service, and hot water for a bath right away,” Castor commands from over my shoulder, leaning far enough forward that his muscular chest presses against my back.

My breath hitches at the touch.

“Oh sure, now that I’m paying, we eat for six…” Leaf grumbles as we make our way upstairs.

The stairways were not as straightforward as one would think. Twice we went through a door only to find that we were still on level 1 or 1.5 or 1.75.

Eventually, we find the hall labeled as the 300s. Sounds of pleasure escape the rooms as we pass through the dimly lit hallway.

The shadows thankfully hide my blushing cheeks.

First to reach 307, Leaf unlocks the room and pushes in the door.

“How lovely! Plenty of space to spread out and make ourselves comfortable.” Leaf deadpans and gestures for us to enter the small room.

The room is extremely cramped, like the Inn owner lost a bet for how many pieces of furniture they could fit in one room.

A singular bed rests crookedly in the corner facing a crackling fireplace with two cushioned chairs before it.

A large bathtub lies in the corner of the room underneath the small window, partially hidden behind a beautifully carved wooden privacy screen.

Two small boys in cotton aprons bump into me as they rush past with pails of water.

Almost boiling water splashes my leg, and I let out a sound somewhere between a screech and hiccup.

“Sorry Miss!” he quickly offers, not taking a minute to stop from dumping the pail into the tub and running full speed out of the room to grab another pail.

After a few minutes, the bath is full of steaming water. A few trays of turkey legs, potatoes, carrots, shallots, grapes, bread, and wine are left on the table by the fireplace.

My stomach rumbles loudly.

“Akemi, you should bathe first. I’m not sure you’d want to bathe after us,” Leaf says, popping a grape into his mouth and gesturing at himself in disgust.

“I was going to offer to wait, but honestly, you make a good point.” I walk to the other side of the indecently small room behind the half-wall partition in a total of five steps.

Eager to wash off the layers of mud, grime, and terrible memories, I toss my clothes to the side and hiss in delight as I dip my toe in the bath.

The water is deliciously warm. I sit down slowly, letting my body adjust to the temperature, and empty in a few drops of lavender oil from the vial near the tub.

I scrub myself raw until I can no longer see the blood behind my fingertips.

Snippets of Castor and Leaf's conversation float from the room beyond. Words like “Dead Twins,” “council,” and “attacks” seem to repeat quite a bit.

Only after my skin is pink from scrubbing, I stand and pick one of the plush towels from the neatly stacked pile to wrap around my torso.

“Whoever is next, have at it.” I step from behind the privacy screen and pull my heavy, dripping hair over one shoulder.

Leaf and Castor stare at me.

“What?” Surely they’ve seen dozens of female bodies much more exposed than this.

“Oh, um, I’ll go next!” Leaf pops a few more grapes into his mouth before jumping from his chair by the fire.

I sit down in the newly emptied seat and finally allow myself to eat. I nibble on a small slice of goat cheese and rip off a piece of crusty bread. Castor’s gaze tracks my moments as I savor each bite.

“Here,” he says gruffly, holding out a goblet of wine and peering at me from underneath those dark lashes.

I pretend not to notice the way our hands brush as I grab the glass.

I take a small sip, letting the notes of blackberry slowly pass over my tongue. “Delicious.”