In the end, I was dragged all the way to the end of the street leading to the inn, a very specific sweet spot where foot traffic existed just enough to be profitable but not enough to attract guards with too much free time.
It was the kind of place where shady deals, suspicious vendors, and people who definitely "forgot" to pay taxes naturally gravitated toward.
Dagur and Thorne finally stopped and unceremoniously plopped me onto a wooden chair.
"Sit," Dagur said, pointing like I was a misbehaving child.
I crossed my arms, legs, and possibly my soul, sulking as they began setting up a table and a tent with efficiency. A folding table appeared, then a tent, then a banner that looked like it had survived at least three explosions and one fire.
Clearly, this was not their first time doing something illegal in broad daylight.
"Wait here," they said in unison.
"Wait here for what?" I snapped. "For destiny? For regret? For—"
Too late. They were already walking away.
