"Look at that..." The whispered voice drifted from the crowd of passersby.
"I can't believe he's eating at the same table with his slave."
Several other diners glanced over, their low mutters buzzing across the room. Even though they tried to speak quietly, I could hear every single word clearly from where I sat.
Lilia, who had evidently overheard them too, lowered her head in sheer embarrassment.
The fear that had gripped her face earlier slowly melted into an expression of raw shame mixed with deep despair.
It was as if the harsh reality of her new status as a branded slave had just been forcefully dragged into the light.
Once our bellies were full and our energy was partially restored, I wasted no more time. I paid the bill, stood up, and motioned for her to follow.
We slipped away from the crowded market plaza and navigated through the bustling stone streets toward a reputable inn near the city center, eager to finally secure a proper bed to rest our weary bodies.
We soon arrived at a sturdy, three-story building with a hanging wooden sign depicting a sleeping badger.
"Is there still a room available for the night?" I asked, leaning my forearm against the polished wooden counter to address the tired-looking young receptionist.
"Uhm... let me see," the receptionist murmured, running her finger down the leather ledger before looking up at us with an apologetic grimace.
"There is one, sir... but we only have a single room left in the entire building. Border traffic has been exceptionally heavy this week."
"That's perfectly fine. I'll take it," I replied smoothly, reaching into my pouch and tossing a shiny silver coin onto the counter—more than enough to cover a night at a commoner's inn.
"Oh, and please add a charge for a hot bath if you have the facilities on the premises."
"A bath?" The receptionist paused, taken aback, her eyes darting across our simple, dust-covered travel clothes.
"Uhm... sir, we don't have facilities for that here," she explained carefully. "There's only one public bathhouse in the city, located in the noble district to the north.
"But it is reserved exclusively for high nobility and the royal family when they visit the border. Besides, the entry fee is quite..." She trailed off, offering a polite, regretful smile.
"However, we can prepare clean water for you to wash up in your room."
'Is that so?' I thought to myself, feeling a wave of disappointment.
I suppose in this medieval fantasy setting, a warm, private bath was still an extreme luxury reserved strictly for the upper crust of society.
'Argh, damn it... I really wanted to wash off all this dried Ogre blood and road dust!'
"Alright, in that case, please prepare two basins for us." I stated to the receptionist.
"Noted, please follow me this way then, sir," the receptionist said, retrieving a heavy iron key and guiding us up a flight of creaking wooden stairs.
I followed closely behind her, my boots thudding softly against the wooden planks.
Lilia trailed a step behind me, her movements naturally soft, graceful, and refined despite the heavy fatigue clinging to her muscles.
The moment the receptionist unlocked the door, handed me the key, and took her leave, the heavy wooden door clicked shut, locking us inside our small, private sanctuary.
Lilia immediately retreated to the farthest corner of the small room, her back pressing against the wall as she stared at the single wooden bed resting in the center.
Her entire posture turned incredibly rigid. She clearly didn't know what to say, her heart pounding frantically against her ribs—it was her absolute first time sharing an enclosed, intimate room with a man.
Trying to break the awkward, suffocating tension filling the air, she clutched a small paper parcel tightly against her chest.
"Uhm...? Can I... can I change my clothes? I brought the spare outfit that you bought for me earlier."
Before checking into the inn, I had made a quick detour to a local tailor stall to buy her a simple change of clothes.
She had been genuinely overwhelmed with gratitude when I handed it to her. When she had desperately fled the burning palace, she had escaped with nothing—no money, no food, and certainly no spare attire.
And what she is wearing right now is a gift from my younger sister; even though they are both women, their body sizes differ—especially due to her large breast.
Even though it was just a cheap, commoner-grade tunic and simple linen pants, to her, it meant the absolute world.
"Sure, go ahead," I replied casually, already unbuttoning my traveling cloak and pulling open my shirt to let my skin breathe, completely exhausted from the brutal physical strain of our journey.
"B-but...?"
Her voice cut off abruptly, her breath catching sharply in her throat.
Lilia froze, her cheeks flushing a vivid, fiery red as her wide blue eyes landed squarely on my bare chest and shoulders.
The sudden realization that there was no privacy screen, partition, or second room in this tiny space hit her all at once.
If she wanted to change out of her filthy, blood-stained clothes, she would have to do it right here, merely a few feet away from me.
She clutched the cloth bundle tighter against her chest. Her fingers trembled slightly, and her lips parted a little from overwhelming embarrassment.
"Are you... aren't you going to turn around or step outside while I change?" she stammered.
Her voice dropping into an embarrassed, barely audible whisper as her gaze darted nervously between me and the small wooden floorboards.
Seeing her wide, panicked blue eyes darting frantically between my bare chest and the single wooden bed, I knew exactly what was running through her highly modest, sheltered mind.
She was a royal princess from a large Empire that everyone feared off.
She had never seen a man's bare torso, let alone been in a position where she was expected to undress in the same room.