The following day, Reynard woke up under two strange gazes.
The faint morning light filtered through Rosalinda's room window, illuminating the space. He had sneaked back into the room after the previous night with the proprietress.
He had gotten a bit wild and lost track of time.
Feeling 'Samira's' gaze, he faced her.
That smile was from someone who had seen something they shouldn't have.
Sylvia had a subtle, strange smile on her face. She was leaning against the wall, dressed in the clothes she had managed to acquire the night before, looking much better.
Reynard didn't know if she had actually found out what happened yesterday between him and Rosalinda, but honestly, he didn't care.
As for Eleanor, she was sitting on the edge of the bed, watching Reynard with a suspicious look and a hint of judgment.
He pretended nothing happened.
Standing up, Reynard straightened his clothes with a slow movement, as if he were alone in the room. "I see the night did wonders."
His comment was directed at Sylvia.
Sylvia shrugged, her smile fading. "My body recovered faster than I expected. I plan to leave today. Our paths separate here."
Reynard internally narrowed his eyes. He had planned to take Sylvia with him to the meeting and use her as a lifeboat. But if she wanted to leave, he couldn't stop her.
At the very least, he should try to get something good from her before she went.
"Separate?" Reynard repeated, shaking his head. "You owe me for rescuing you from the road. Before you leave, pay me as you promised."
Sylvia clenched her teeth.
She thought he would forget about it.
"I promised, and I will fulfill it. I have no money with me, and my armor was destroyed. I didn't even have clothes to wear. If you can wait, I will return later today with some money as thanks..." She said, biting her lips.
Her acting was very poor.
Reynard smiled when he heard this.
Was she going to play it that way?
If Reynard hadn't known about 'Samira's' true identity, he might have believed her words.
Unfortunately for her, he knew.
Of course, he wouldn't try to push her to the limit. Reynard hadn't forgotten that this woman was supposed to be the most powerful person he currently knew.
It wouldn't be funny to die before reaching the meeting.
"You can pay me in another way..." he said, letting out a sigh.
Staring at her for a few seconds, Reynard suddenly spoke. "How about a favor?"
Sylvia froze for a moment.
A favor?
She hesitated.
After a few seconds, she nodded. "A favor... alright. But don't exceed the limit. If I find it too outrageous, I won't agree."
Reynard nodded, internally pleased.
"You previously mentioned being hired by one of the nobles to protect them during the meeting, correct?" he asked.
"Yes..." Sylvia nodded, giving him a suspicious look. Although she was lying about being hired by a noble, it wasn't a complete fabrication.
"I want you to protect me too." He paused for a moment, adding: "You don't need to protect me the whole time. Only if something happens, and you have the capability, protect me."
Sylvia didn't answer immediately. She looked Reynard up and down, thinking about why someone like him, who didn't seem important, would need protection at this meeting.
She knew this event would be chaotic and would bring together all the local nobles, so she wasn't surprised by Reynard attending the venue, but she was suspicious of him asking for this favor.
If he had asked her to accompany him fully to the meeting, she would have refused, but since he only asked her to act in a situation where his life might be at risk, it was harder to refuse.
"Alright. It's an agreement." Sylvia gave Reynard a deep look before agreeing to the request.
She didn't know if Reynard knew more than he let on, or if he was just very cowardly and afraid of the meeting.
In any case, she wasn't promising to save him. If necessary, she could pretend she didn't see him.
If he died...
It wasn't her problem.
"That's an agreement." Reynard repeated, smiling.
He wouldn't be foolish enough to trust his life to Sylvia, nor did he expect her to actually act if he needed her.
A verbal agreement was still better than none.
"Are you two done? Rosalinda showed up this morning and said she had prepared breakfast." Eleanor, who had been observing the exchange between the two all this time, spoke to Reynard.
When mentioning Rosalinda, she couldn't help but stare at Reynard for a few extra seconds.
Reynard nodded, maintaining his smile. "We're done. Let's eat."
He turned to Sylvia. "Come on, Samira. Let's not scorn the proprietress's hospitality."
"..." Sylvia.
Without saying anything, she moved first, walking toward the door.
Her steps seemed firmer, although she still walked strangely. It was as if her legs were being pulled by strings.
One false step and she would trip.
Without further words, they descended the wooden stairs, which creaked slightly under their footsteps.
Downstairs, the place was already busy again. Most were unfamiliar faces, but Reynard remembered one or two.
They were the men who used to frequent the place to see Rosalinda.
Curiously, Brannon was nowhere to be seen.
Reynard didn't know if he had been caught, but no one had come to 'claim' their prize, so he didn't bother.
Rosalinda was standing behind the counter, wearing a clean apron tied around her waist. She served a steaming bowl of porridge to a guest, acting with a calm and professional efficiency.
The only difference was a certain paleness in her face and a slight sluggishness in her movements.
She looked like she hadn't slept well.
Seeing Reynard and his group, she smiled. "Good morning, young sir."
Reynard nodded to Rosalinda. "Good morning." He walked up to the counter, stopping right where she had been bent over it hours before.
The counter was impeccably clean, with no trace of the night's mess.
He leaned his hands on the wood, bending slightly.
Rosalinda avoided eye contact.
"The porridge looks excellent today, proprietress." Reynard murmured, his voice low.
"It's fresh." Rosalinda replied, without lifting her head, her voice slightly tense. She treated him with the same formal courtesy she showed any other guest, but her shoulders were too stiff.
"Great. Three bowls, please. Where should I sit?"
Rosalinda pointed to an isolated corner table, away from the other noisy visitors. "You may take that table, sir. I will bring the orders."
Reynard moved away from the counter, a faint smile playing on his lips. He joined Sylvia, who was already seated, and Eleanor, who took a seat at the end.
Breakfast passed in silence. Reynard ate heartily. When they finished, Reynard wiped his mouth with his napkin and looked at the two women.
"We leave before lunch." He announced, leaving no room for discussion.
Standing up, he adjusted his clothes once more. "Eleanor, you can wait for old Henry; he should show up soon. I'll return shortly."
"Are you going somewhere?" Eleanor asked, curious.
"I'm going to take a look around the city." Reynard replied with a shrug. "I want to explore a bit before we leave."
"Mm." She simply nodded her head, while Sylvia didn't bother to speak, sipping the porridge in her bowl.
After exiting through the back of the inn, Reynard dropped directly onto a busy street.
He had already done a little research on this city.
Reynard discovered that the city's original name was Mountain Fortress, and it wasn't a city to begin with. These lands were granted by a high-ranking noble to his loyal vassal, a knight.
The knight transformed the village due to the discovery — and exploitation — of a large vein of ore in the nearby mountains; the wealth of the area skyrocketed.
Because of this, the village developed to the point of being considered a city, gaining the name Silver City. The place continued to grow over time, and thus the knight became the first Lord of the city.
Reynard was curious to know who this knight was, but he couldn't gather any more information because too much time had passed, and the stories were lost.
His abilities were limited to what he heard and read, so he could only sigh in regret, containing his curiosity.
His main focus right now was the Night Market.
Despite its name, the Night Market didn't only operate at night.
It gained that name because, initially, it was the place where merchants sold exotic and illegal items, operating under the cover of night to avoid taxes and laws. Now it operated during the day, selling items not easily found in other markets.
Many said they still sold illegal things, and that the City Lord had turned a blind eye to it, allowing the market to continue growing. More and more people were going to buy and sell items.
This was especially attractive to people who wanted to sell their goods with dubious origins, or buy products that couldn't be obtained legally due to the kingdom's laws.
Reynard wanted to take a look at this market and see if he found anything interesting.
Not for any other reason than curiosity.
***
The Night Market Entrance
Reynard followed the flow of people and, after turning a corner into a shabbier neighborhood, the Night Market hit him with a wave of noise, smell, and color.
Despite it being midday, the sun barely reached the ground due to the stretched tarps and chaotically set-up stalls. The atmosphere was hot and stuffy, and the air was impregnated with the intense mix of exotic spices, smoke from some oily frying, and the odor of sweaty bodies.
Reynard entered the market, his eyes assessing the organized disorder.
The people were as varied as the goods: dark-skinned merchants from distant lands, scarred warriors looking for a second-hand weapon.
Reynard began weaving through the stalls, maintaining a casual posture but observing everything carefully.
At one stall, there were skulls of small animals piled next to glass jars filled with viscous, colored liquids, sold as luck potions or curses.
'Does anyone believe this?'
Further on, rusty hammers competed for space with dark-bladed daggers and pieces of clearly stolen armor.
'Looks useless...' Reynard was stunned by the quality. On the other side, there were old, illegible texts that he assessed with skepticism, and jewelry of dubious quality.
He felt like he was entering a large fair filled with con artists...
Reynard also noticed the lack of the Lord's guards in the market.
As he passed a stall selling empty cages, a thin, smiling man, wearing a dirty leather vest, quickly leaned toward him.
"Ah, what a rare sight! A young noble of fine taste, judging by the silk, visiting our humble market!" The vendor spoke, his small, clever eyes fixed on Reynard's clothes.
"I have something special for you, something the City Lord himself has never seen."
'Hm?'
Who was he trying to fool?
Reynard stopped his steps, looking at the vendor. "I'm listening." he said, his voice full of scorn.
The man straightened up, his voice lowering to a conspiratorial tone. "It's a magical beast, brought from the Frozen Ruins. It lays golden eggs! It brings good fortune, and... well, the treasure you can obtain is immeasurable."
The vendor made a dramatic flourish, pulling back a stained tarp to reveal a wicker cage. Inside it, perched on some dirty straw, was a small, brown creature that emitted an annoyed cluck.
It was a thin, common, and visibly nervous chicken.
Reynard stared at the animal, then at the vendor.
His forced smile disappeared, replaced by an expression of cold disinterest.
"Golden eggs, you say?" Reynard murmured. "If this chicken really laid golden eggs, why would you sell it for ten silver coins? Why wouldn't you keep it for yourself?"
The vendor froze, his smile faltering. He blinked a few times, clearly caught by the inescapable logic.
He started stammering, trying to invent a flimsy excuse about the "risk of a curse" or "the difficulty of feeding the creature."
Reynard shook his head. "I don't want that." he said, ready to walk away.
Suddenly, an idea popped into his mind. "But I will buy food."
The vendor leaned over again. "Food? Ah, yes! A young, tasty chicken! And an excellent chicken, of course!"
Reynard pointed to the cage. "I'll take this chicken. But not for ten coins. It's a common chicken, and you tried to rob me. I'll give you two copper coins."
He was only buying it because Eleanor could make a good broth with it during the journey today. They were about to leave, and they could take it alive to eat later.
The man, who was previously asking for ten silver coins, now looked happy. "Done! Excellent choice, young noble! May your journey be flavorful!" he exclaimed, relieved to have gotten rid of the product.
Reynard tossed two copper coins to him and picked up the cage. The weight of the chicken was normal, and it looked at him with a silly expression.
He gave one last look back.
The vendor was already searching for the next sucker.
"..." Chicken.