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"Do not presume to share such familiarities," he snaps. "You overstep."
"Forgive me, I did not mean to offend."
He folds his arms and stares broodingly out the window. When I open my mouth, thinking of breaking the tense silence, he silences me with a sharp look. After several tense moments, he lets out an exaggerated sigh. "Come now, don't look so glum," he says lightly. "It is not your fault you have the energy of an overeager iypinnit."
I blink, taken aback by this sudden teasing. He gives me a wry half-smile. "All this prattling is simply in your nature, I suppose. I shall have to endure it with saintly patience." Despite the mocking words, his tone softens into grudging amusement.
Unsure how to respond at first, I tentatively return his smile. "I confess I do tend to... enthuse. I will try to restrain my, ah, iypinnit-like qualities."
Karul snorts, shaking his head. "My dear, I would not dream of denying your youthful excitement. Merely pace yourself, lest you wear out this old man’s ears."
His gentle ribbing seems to break the tension. We pass the rest of the journey in a more companionable silence. There are still walls between us, but perhaps doors as well, waiting to be opened.
I cling to that fragile hope.
After a period of comfortable silence, He clears his throat. "We will be stopping for the night shortly," he informs me. "There is an inn just up ahead that will suffice for our accommodation."
The carriage rolls towards a tree-lined lane towards a sizable roadside establishment. Made of weathered stone and timbers, the building exudes a warm ambiance with its softly lit windows. "It looks quite homely and welcoming," I remark brightly, relieved at the prospect of a comfortable bed after the long day of travel.
Karul gives a noncommittal grunt, his eyes scanning the surroundings critically as we pull into the courtyard. "I suppose it is adequate enough," he allows as a stable hand comes to take the horses. "At least the standards of cleanliness appear passable."
The inn looks perfectly charming, with its quaint architecture and inviting atmosphere. I'm aware that Karul probably views these rustic trappings as beneath him, given his elevated standards. But to me, after years sequestered away, even simple comforts feel like luxuries.
"Welcome to the Silver Orchid," a hurried serving girl says with a dimpled smile, dropping us a curtsy before sending for our bags. "Please, follow me, and I'll show you inside." She leads us inside the cozy inn, warm light from a great stone hearth illuminating wood-beamed walls lined with paintings of pastoral landscapes. “You must be famished, and from where are you traveling?”
“That is to be none of your concern, wench,” he says briskly and annoyed. “But it will, in fact, serve us well to remain unknown. And with that, he tucks a gold coin into her hand, a warm smile blooming across her face.
“Of course, my lord!”
He tosses another coin her way. “And we will certainly have none of that lord talk.”
“None at all, sir!”
Despite the late hour, the common room buzzes with patrons smoking pipes and playing cards around tables. Smelling meat pies makes my mouth water. I take in all the rustic details with fascination as we ascend a creaking staircase behind the still-nattering serving girl.
She opens a sturdy oak door to reveal a comfortably appointed room holding a canopy bed piled with quilts, a washstand, a wardrobe, and a writing desk. "Will this suit your needs?" the girl asks hopefully as she lights the bedside lamps.
Karul scans the humble room with a critical eye, taking in the simple furnishings, worn rug, and creaky floorboards. "It is... quaint," Karul remarks, glancing around with a critical eye. Turning to the girl with a thin smile, he adds, "But I suppose beggars can't be choosers."
The girl's smile falters slightly.
"Very well then. Send for fresh linens, of course. I will not be sleeping in those sheep's rags draped over the bed," Karul continues dismissively.
The serving girl's face flushes in embarrassment. "Of course, sir, right away," she stammers, clearly taken aback by his haughty rudeness.
"And stoke up the fire I'd rather not freeze to death."
"Yes sir, my apologies," the mortified girl murmurs, bobbing a hasty curtsy before rushing off.
I give Karul a reproachful look once she has gone. "Was that necessary? She's only doing her job."
He just sniffs disdainfully. "I simply refuse to lower my standards, no matter how rustic the accommodations are."
At dinner in the cramped common room, Karul eyes the hearty bahru and bread placed before us with disdain. "Is this meant to be edible?" he remarks, poking at a piece of meat distastefully. "I've had prison food with more appeal."
He proceeds to complain about the lack of variety, the poor seasoning, and the texture of the meat, finding fault with every detail as I shrink down in embarrassment. The Innkeeper's face grows stormier by the minute.
"Baths as well," Karul declares imperiously after picking at his food. "Draw two at once - I refuse to soak in already used water. And mind, they are piping hot."
