Chapter 44: The Whisper of Coins
Two days passed.
The kind of days you barely dare enjoy, afraid they’ll vanish too soon.
We spent them wandering through the lower districts, tasting sweets a little too expensive for our budget, and lingering in front of windows filled with useless but fascinating trinkets. Lysara never asked for anything, of course, but her glances spoke for her. I made sure to read between the silences.
We crossed paths with street artists playing crystal harps, a fire-breather with shifting tattoos, and even a tamer of runic fireflies that danced in circles around a laughing child. For a moment, the city didn’t feel like a dark fortress, but like a place truly alive.
On the evening of the second day, I had to pay for an extra night at the inn, nibbling away a bit more of our precious coin stash. The pile of coins was getting dangerously low. But hey... at least we slept well. And warm.
I settled into bed, letting out a soft sigh.
— It’s official... We’re rich in memories, I whispered.
In the room next door, no sound. But I knew she’d heard me.
And that it suited her just fine.
The next morning, I was woken... not by the rays of sun filtering through the curtains, as usual, but by knocks at the door. Three, sharp and firm.
Those two days had drifted by, like soap bubbles in a world too rough. We had laughed. Well, mostly I had. But she’d listened. And sometimes, I thought I heard her breathing differently. Freer.