Ace left the run-down inn with Blind Dog in tow, this time making sure he was the one leading the way.
He wasn't about to fall for another one of the kid's tricks.
Eventually, they arrived at a more decent-looking inn.
The signboard swayed slightly in the evening breeze, the scent of roasted meat wafting through the air.
Stepping inside, Ace walked up to the innkeeper at the counter.
"I need a private room."
The innkeeper, a stout man with a thick mustache, sized him up before nodding. "Five silver."
Ace handed over the coins without hesitation.
"Right this way," the innkeeper said, leading them down a hallway.
As they walked, a few guests glanced their way, some in curiosity, others in mild disdain, likely due to Blind Dog's ragged appearance. Ace ignored them.
They were soon shown to a modest but clean private room.
A wooden table sat in the center, with two chairs and a small lantern hanging from the ceiling.
