Chapter 118: [118] Delayed Payment
Rachel walked out of the room without a backward glance. Xavier stood there for a moment, listening to her footsteps fade down the wooden stairs.
"Well, that was fucking dramatic," he muttered to the empty room.
When next we meet, it might not be as friends.
What did that even mean? If the Heart of Winter needed all seven "stars" and she was actively searching for them, their goals seemed aligned. Her sudden adversarial stance made no sense.
"Maybe she just wanted to say something badass before leaving," Xavier said, grabbing his pack from under the bed. "Prophets and their theatrics."
He checked the contents quickly—extra clothes, a water skin, the small pouch Rachel had given him. Not much, but it would have to do. The rest of his supplies were with Naomi.
Xavier glanced around the room one last time, making sure he hadn’t forgotten anything. Prophecy-fated stuff had never been his strong point, not in his past life, not now. Give him a clear target, a method, a timeline—that’s where he excelled. All this vague "winds told me" nonsense just gave him a headache.
Speaking of which, the pressure behind his eyes had settled into a steady throb, like someone tapping a finger against his skull in rhythm with his heartbeat.
He needed to find that caravan Lukas had mentioned. The eastern gate, if he remembered correctly.
The common room had filled a bit more since he’d gone upstairs. Harrick nodded to him from behind the bar.
"Leaving us already?" the innkeeper asked.