The inn room is small, warm, and pine-sweet, with woodsmoke clinging to the beams. Kynes and Bren close the door on the market’s cold noise and set their packs down by the bed.
For a long moment, nothing hums, taps, or tugs at them. The silence feels almost strange, like a wound finally stopped bleeding.
Bren
It is quiet enough to hear my own thoughts. That should feel ordinary, but after the road, it does not.
Bren eases onto the edge of the bed, shoulders loosening at last. Her blade stays within reach, but her eyes keep returning to Kynes instead of the door.
Bren
We kept choosing the road, and I am glad. Still, I think the road took more from us than it showed.
Kynes
The room is truly still.
The golden tether between them glows softly, steady and unforced. Bren reaches for Kynes’s hand, inviting him to sit with her and let the evening be only this.
Share a quiet evening with Bren