The clatter of carriage wheels finally slowed as they reached the familiar cobbled street before the inn. Lanterns burned low, casting long shadows against the wooden walls.
"Home sweet home," Oliver muttered as he hopped down, stretching his arms.
Isolde stepped out after him, hair still perfect despite the long ride. "You make it sound like we've returned from a year-long war."
"Well," Oliver said with a smirk, "after facing nobles, formal dinners, and too many forks at once, it felt like one."
They pushed open the door to the inn and were greeted instantly by Serena's voice.
"Look who's back! The celebrities of Valebridge!" she called from behind the counter, hands on her hips. "How was the grand visit to the Viscount's palace?"
"Comfortable," Isolde said, heading toward a chair. "Too comfortable. I could smell politics in the air."
"Ha!" Serena laughed, clearly delighted. "And did they serve you those tiny rich-people portions that barely fill a spoon?"
