Chapter 15
The thing screamed high class hotel. Five stories of the same marble-like material with a definitely modern architecture. Warm light bled into the street and a low buzz of activity reached us as we approached. Rather than the fantasy inn I imagined it would be, it wouldn't feel out of place in Dubai. Minus the nearby buildings almost sticking to it, of course.
Talk about suspension of disbelief. I sighed.
The hall that greeted us was wide and furnished with wooden tables, chairs, desks, all the works. Three people were sitting inside, each by themselves. A short man stood behind an exquisitely crafted counter, smiling at us when we came in.
"Welcome to West Cyr Inn." he greeted us with a slight bow. "How may I be of service?"
Lapia put a gold coin in front of him. "One night, dinner and breakfast."
"Certainly, Lady Lapia." he turned to me. "Your Excellency, I must ask that you please return all heavy objects into your Storage. While we pride ourselves in the structural capabilities of the city's buildings, anything too heavy would pose danger not only to your companion, but also other guests." his smile tightened slightly and he avoided eye contact.
I turned to Lapia with an expression that would best be described as 'shocked out of my wits'. This dude is amazing. The stance, the tone, the treatment. I was convinced we were received by the best employee there was.
"The armor's not that heavy, but sure." the receptionist relaxed visibly.
I reached up to my shoulders and unclasped the tight buckle that kept the shoulder plate in place. It fell into my hand and it dissolved into my storage. That's apparently the name. I repeated the process until my chest plate was next and noticed him blushing profusely.
Oi. This is not a show. I thought. Then noticed him looking away uncomfortably. Ah. I realized. If a dude were to undress in front of a gal, that would be her reaction in his position.
I turned around and walked to a pillar, standing out of sight. The rest of the process went smoothly, as I had already done this a few times, the stress drilling the actions to memory. After finishing, I stood wearing only the stretchy leather garments, which felt more like sports clothes than leather armor meant for brutal combat. Feels like yoga pants. The material hugged my body in a comfortable way, at the same time revealing the shape of my body for all to see. That in itself was not a problem, as I had frequented beaches and events wearing even less. I felt vulnerable in a primal, instinctual way. As if something would come out of nowhere aiming for my vitals.