Total pages in book: 129
Estimated words: 119158 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 596(@200wpm)___ 477(@250wpm)___ 397(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 119158 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 596(@200wpm)___ 477(@250wpm)___ 397(@300wpm)
“Is this your first visit to Riverhold? Do you know where we should look for an inn?” I asked. Like any town this size, there were a variety of districts. I wasn’t sure if Nylian had something shadier in mind or if he was expecting to stay at an inn with more class and polish. Considering he was a member of the Wolfrest royal family, I was expecting him to choose the latter.
“I’ve visited here once, but it’s been a few years. I thought we could find an inn close to where we would encounter the caravans, but not necessarily with them, in case we need to leave quickly,” he replied, his eyes never stopping in their perusal of our surroundings.
“Then your best bet is going to be along Beaufield Lane or Langdon Walk,” Adeline interjected. She thrust her hand between us, pointing to the right. “Penbrook Port is to the west, which is where all the storage warehouses and the housing for the City Watch are located. There are plenty of inns not far from the warehouses that are cheap because they cater to the caravan drivers and the guards. If you want to be close but not too close, Beaufield and Langdon are respectable without being too pricy. The farther south you go in the city, the ritzier the buildings and shops. The pickpockets and the grifters stick to the northeast side of town, away from the wharves and close to the main entrance to the city.”
I twisted so I could glance over my shoulder at Adeline. “Really? I thought the criminal element of the city would keep a close watch on all the merchandise moving in and out of the town.”
“Most towns, yes, but not in Riverhold. The governor of Riverhold is a former general for King Gerald Montcroix. He runs the City Watch like a military regiment. With the port being a major source of income for Edros, he is protective of it, making sure the criminal element stays out.” Adeline skipped up and tossed one arm across my shoulders. Nylian gave her a warning look, as though he expected the woman to slip a knife between my ribs with the other hand. I ignored him as she continued. “But Governor Brimsey is a smart man. He knows if he tries to run all the criminals out of town, he’ll have chaos on his hands, so the watch is a little slack on the east side.”
“Which keeps the darker elements of the city happy,” I finished for her.
“Exactly.”
“We should search for a place to stay along Beaufield Lane,” Nylian announced before heading in the direction Adeline had indicated. The thief released me, and Nylian seemed to relax as we continued on. I tried to keep my attention on the street in front of me so the elf didn’t have to worry so much about me walking into something or stirring up trouble.
After three tries and no vacancies, we located a quaint and cozy hotel called Thistle Dew Nicely Inn. I stared at the sign featuring a mouse curled up on the head of a thistle with a tiny blanket drawn over it and cringed. This was not my fault. There was no way I’d done this. I couldn’t have. No, I refused to accept responsibility for such a pun. This book had run amuck with itself. Prior to falling off that bridge, I had been writing a serious adventure book of political intrigue and redemption.
Okay, so maybe I’d also planned a lot of gratuitous sex, but readers loved sex scenes.
I did not write puns. Especially bad ones like that.
This was not my fault.
“Lockhart?”
My gaze jerked over to where Nylian was standing in the doorway, holding the door open for me, his eyebrows lifted in question.
“Yeah, sorry. Coming,” I mumbled.
The inn was lovely and clean, so long as you could overlook the explosion of white doilies that covered every surface and the delicate teacups everywhere, waiting for a careless bump to send them crashing to the floor. I grabbed the edges of my cloak and pulled it close to my body while keeping my other hand on my sword, trying to make myself as small as possible so I wouldn’t knock anything over.
As I was adjusting to my surroundings, I turned toward the check-in counter to find it “manned” by a goblin. My mouth fell open as I watched it hop up onto a stool and flip open a thick registry book with long, bony fingers and curled black nails. The creature had enormous pointed ears sticking out from either side of its melon head, with a pair of dangly metal earrings hanging from each. Perched on its long hooked nose were a pair of slender glasses, while a pearl-and-beaded chain ran from the glasses to loop around the goblin’s neck. But the most confounding thing was the goblin’s hair.