“Yes…” his voice trailed off.
Tressa held up a hand. “My own bed in my own room?”
He blinked twice, then looked her at her face, as if he just realized she had one. “Yes, of course. There’s a small chamber at the back on the third floor. It’s nothing fancy. Just a bed and a chest, but it’ll do for you.”
Tressa curtsied. Her knees knocked together under her dress, but she hoped he didn’t notice.
“Off with you, now. Put your bag in your room, then report back here. The crowd will be arriving soon to break their fast.”
Tressa nodded. “I’ll be out quickly to help you clean up for the morning meal.”
Before he could answer, Tressa sashayed through the inn. They were all built on the same plan as the former inns back in Hutton’s Bridge that now held multiple families. A kitchen, a bar, a dining area, and a room in the back for the innkeeper. The inn could build up, with three to four rooms on each level. This one only stood three levels. She’d seen some closer to the center of town upwards of seven levels built around the trees in the forest. Based on the pitch of the walls, those looked less secure than this humble establishment.
On the rickety steps, Tressa pulled the top of her shirt into a more respectable position. Making her way down the dark hall, the second-to-last door stood open.
“Who are you? Has he replaced me already? I’m not dead, despite what he told you.” The voice came from the room with the open door.
Tressa hesitated, her hand on the latch of her door. “Excuse me?” she called back.
“Come in, child. Show me your face.”
Tressa stepped away from her room and pushed the door to the other room open, finding an overweight woman lying in bed. Only a thin blanket covered her body, beads of sweat dripping down her cheeks and over her dark, but thin, mustache.
“Who are you? Proper girls don’t travel alone. Particularly not ones as young and beautiful as you. A man might take advantage.”
“No, my lady. I was running an errand for my father when your husband rushed outside begging for someone to come in and save his dear wife, who he loves so much, from the drudgery of kitchen work.”
She snorted, her nostrils flaring. “Lies.” Then she chuckled. “I like you already. You’re not dumb, so you won’t let him grope you. That’s good enough. Come in, come in. I’m not as ill as everyone thinks. I’m just fat. And hot. I like to lay in bed.”
“Then we’re both in luck because I’m here to work.”
“I suppose that boob out there saw your boobs and hired you on the spot.”
Tressa laughed. “That’s nearly how it went. If I promise to never let him touch me, will you agree to me working here for a time?”
“If it means I can continue to lay here, absolutely. Though should Ira pinch your arse once in a while, I won’t throw you out.” She shifted in the bed, sitting up a bit. “Don’t come too close or I might pinch it myself. I remember when I was your age. The young maids who hid in groves together and giggled over boys. I might have taken advantage once or twice myself, playing the role of the man, while teaching them how to kiss. A little touch here, a little grope there. It was all part of the game.”
Tressa raised an eyebrow. She knew only one man who was interested in men, but it was a closely guarded secret in her village. He feared he’d be stoned and kept his feelings to himself. Apparently people in this town weren’t afraid to discuss such things.
“Then I’ll be sure to keep my bum away from you both.”
The woman laughed. “I do like you. Welcome. What’s your name, dear?”
Tressa had thought of everything, except a name. She took the first that came to her. “Sophia.” Her Granna would be proud of her. After all, she was doing exactly what she’d been asked to do. Escape the village, leave the fog, and change the world.
The woman’s nostrils flared again. “Do you smell that?”
Tressa leapt to the door. “Fire!”
Chapter Thirty-Two
Smoke billowed in the hallway. She pulled her cloak over her mouth and nose, breathing slowly.
A flurry of curse words permeated the smoke.
“You’re a damn fine cook, Ira. I can always expect a surprise at your inn.” A rough voice said, followed by an unworried guffaw.
The smoke cleared out as quickly as it started. Ira stood over a deep pot sitting in the hearth. His shoulders hunched so far forward his neck seemed to disappear into his shirt.
“You, over here.” Ira pointed to Tressa.
She curtsied, letting her blouse dip low. Out of the corner of her eyes, she took a quick glance at the new man in the room. Well dressed, clean, and coin jingling in a pouch hanging from his hip. Repressing a smile, she quickly righted herself and made her way over to the hearth. He was exactly the type of man she’d hoped would walk into the inn. How fortunate he showed up her first day. She needed a man who could get her near the queen. If she ever held court, Tressa might be able to get close enough to kill her, ending the fog that held her people captive.