The day was quiet, a stark contrast to the chaos that had become her life. They stayed in the inn, keeping a low profile, wary of Ignis making another appearance. The fae had promised to wait, but promises from his kind were as fickle as the wind.
Adrien spent the day with her, a quiet, steadfast presence. They talked of inconsequential things—the weather, the food, the history of the city. It was a gentle, comfortable sort of day, a fragile bubble of peace that she knew couldn't last. She could feel the urgency building, the need to find the map, to find the next key, pressing down on her like a physical weight.
Merwyn, true to his nature, was in and out, disappearing for hours at a time before reappearing with some new, shiny trinket or a piece of gossip he'd heard from the city's 'more interesting' inhabitants. He was his usual charming, infuriating self, and his presence was a welcome distraction from the heavier thoughts that plagued her.
