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)
The hallway was empty, just like the lobby. Nylian was nowhere in sight. Adeline and Jasper were also missing. Probably in their room, getting cleaned up and talking about their next steps. I wouldn’t put it past Jasper to convince his sister to let him sneak into Ulmenor.
As I stepped onto the cobblestone sidewalk, I sent up a silent prayer for Adeline to be able to rein in her brother. Ulmenor might be a great opportunity for him, but it was too dangerous.
That thought evaporated from my poor brain as I fell into the flow of people rushing to get the last of their day’s errands done. Some were carrying sacks of goods while others had servants following them, their arms loaded with items. Children were running about, shouting, laughing, and weaving between the citizens.
As my nerves were about to run away with me, I clamped down on my rampaging fears and picked a direction at random. This didn’t differ from shopping in my world. I kept one hand on my pouch to discourage pickpockets and kept my head constantly moving, remaining aware of my surroundings.
For this trip, I would venture along a block, go over one, and then head back so there was no danger of me getting lost within the city. It was as I told Adeline; we would be here for a few days. If I didn’t find what I was searching for on this trip, I would keep trying until I succeeded.
After that first block, the tension tightening every muscle in my shoulders eased, and I drew my first deep breath. Scents of delicious food wafted past my nose, causing my stomach to growl, but I kept moving. I wanted my first good meal to be with Nylian.
On the second block, my feet stopped as I took in the names of the shops, taverns, and inns.
I must have been fucking drunk one night. That was the only answer I could come up with.
There was a cobbler’s shop called Sole Mate. Two clothing makers named Clothes Minded and Fit Sew Good. And squeezed between them was a vibrant inn with a big wooden sign out front with several heads of lettuce on it. The name…Lettuce Inn.
Who did this?
Who in their right mind did this shit to their book?
I was trying to write something serious, goddammit!
Puns had their place, but not in my books.
Unless I was bored, desperate, drunk, or all three. In my case, it was probably all the above. I had no one to blame but myself.
Despite their pun-tastic names, the businesses appeared very popular with the people of Riverhold. At least their names weren’t holding them back.
My first stop was at a stationery shop called The Griffon’s Quill. There I met an older gentleman with thick glasses and ink stains on his hands who was thrilled to set me up with a stack of blank pages, two fine quills from a hawk, and a small inkwell. As crazy as I might have sounded, I needed to write down what I could remember of the book before it evaporated from my head.
I returned to the street with my goods secured in a tidy bundle and was continuing along the way I’d been traveling when a sharp, sudden movement caught my eye. I whipped around, searching the area for the shadowy figure, but the person was long gone.
Prior to darting into The Griffon’s Quill, I’d gotten the creeping feeling that I was being followed. I’d assumed that I hadn’t avoided Nylian, and it was the elf who was trailing me, but the glimpse I’d caught hadn’t been of Nylian. This person was shorter than me and I thought I’d seen short, gray hair.
Maybe I was being paranoid. Who would follow me? I was no one.
With a sigh, I walked past a few more buildings until I reached the Emerald Petal Soaps and Perfumes shop. Yes, it was a store that catered to women, which would explain why I was the only man in the building. The second I stepped inside, all talking stopped so that it was now suffocatingly silent.
But I did not care. I was at the very end of my patience with my current state of being.
A young woman in a simple dress with a white apron tied about her waist edged up to me. Her round face was frightfully pale, and she struggled to meet my gaze as she inquired, “Uh…milord…can I…help you?”
“I hope you can. I’ve been on the road for many days. Do you have soaps to make me stop smelling like a week-dead ogre? Also, it would be great if you have a lotion to treat my dry skin and something for my hair. It’s been so frizzy lately.”
That right there shattered the ice that had frozen the room.
The shop worker smiled brightly at me as she led me over to a shelf with different soaps and pretty glass jars of other substances. Within a few minutes, the other customers were surrounding me, offering suggestions while complaining that the men in their lives didn’t take nearly good enough care of their hair.