There wasn’t time for sightseeing. Hyraj led the way and I followed a step behind, careful not to lose her in the loose crowd all making their way home. Like before, she picked out a tavern on the main road, then set us up there. So noisy, I barely heard a word she said to the innkeeper. So tired, I fell asleep quickly, the distant chatter mingling with the growing rain just enough to drown out my idle thoughts.

In the morning, that rain still fell and fell heavily at that. It didn’t sound so loud in a real room in a real building. I felt kinda sad about that, coming to love the sound of rain in this world. Well, I couldn’t do anything about that, just sat by the window where it was loudest.

I didn’t know what our plan was now we were here, not really. We were going to stay here for the stormy season and then…. Not to mention, what did staying here mean? Were we literally going to sit inside this room for the next three months? I knew she had some money, but was a “hotel” that cheap?

The answers to those questions didn’t matter. I could only do what she told me. Owed her so much, no way someone else would look after me like she did.

Just like back in my old world.

While I stewed, she had filled a tub with warm water; at least, I assumed that because she said, “Louise? I filled the tub with warm water for you to bathe.”

“Thanks,” I said, turning around with a smile at odds with my churning emotions.

She left the room and I bathed, scrubbing off the last couple days’ grime. What wouldn’t come off were the fine hairs that had grown out since coming to this world. No razor or wax strips for me. Smiling softly, I felt pretty lucky that the hair didn’t really show on my arms and legs. My clothing covered it all anyway.

That on my mind, while I was drying my hair, I wondered how long it had grown since coming here. It honestly sucked having it so long, but I hadn’t ever been brave enough to ask for it to be cut short. Never seen someone like me with short hair. From what I’d seen here, that wasn’t going to change.

Getting my hair as dry as I could, I wound it up and stuck the hat over, then went out to find Hyraj. The downstairs was mostly empty, just a couple of groups at the tables spread out across the room, fire burning, wind whistling down the chimney.

Hyraj sat at the counter, talking to the innkeeper. I wasn’t really sure if this place counted as an inn or a tavern or if there was even a difference. Anyway, I went to join them.

The innkeeper gave me a look, Hyraj glanced over, but I just smiled and sat down quietly, so the two continued. It was easy to guess what they were talking about.

“Thing is, not many come here to stay. The grunch just sleep in the barns or make friends. Wouldn’ earn a penny if they paid for a room,” the innkeeper said.

Hyraj had a hand on the counter and now clapped with it. “There truly is no choice for renting?” she asked.

The innkeeper shooed and said, “If you’re staying, then it’s up to the job. What you looking to do?”

“I thought to right books for the merchant guild. That is it, they have a branch here?” Hyraj asked.

“Books, huh? I say there’s a chance, their apprentices always looking to get to the capital,” the innkeeper said, falling into thought. “Ah, that’ll get you a room no doubt, but might take some time. If you want somewhere to stay until then… say, any good with kids?”

“No—”

“Yes,” I said.

The innkeeper turned to me, Hyraj too, this time for more than a glimpse. I smiled, a bit embarrassed, but this felt like the perfect opportunity for me to repay Hyraj—at least a little.

In the end, the rain only stopped midday, so we went to the house after lunch. It wasn’t on the main road or a road off of the main road, but this village seemed fairly well off, even out here the path still made of cobblestone.

We came to a stop by a house. Whitewashed walls and a thatched roof, a picket fence that covered the two steps or so from the roadside to the front door, flowerbeds overgrown in weeds. A weathered sign on the gate read: Mr Lurchen & Mrs Frinchen. Hyraj’s book had used shortenings for “titles”, and the & was just the first letter of their word for “and” with an underline; Hyraj had told me that at some point, maybe when talking about shops?

Anyway, I didn’t think much of the couple being unmarried, then realised maybe wives didn’t change their last names here. It didn’t matter.

Hyraj knocked, but, even before the door opened, we could hear how… lively it was. Not screaming or shouting, just the familiar sound of a few different conversations happening in the same room, everyone naturally talking louder to be heard.

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However, that noise suddenly ceased and the door soon creaked open. “Can’I helps?” the woman said—Mrs Frinchen. A very thick accent and that was the best I could understand what she’d said.

Hyraj didn’t hesitate. “That is it, we are staying at the Tea and Biscuits where the innkeeper mentioned they might be interested in renting a room,” she said.

I was confused for a moment, then remembered Hyraj used “they” like a polite “you”. Mrs Frinchen understood it correctly, though, her smile going from strained to forced. “Ah, a room?” she muttered, her gaze, like, scanning our faces. “Is it that? To say, there’s a room, all right, but….”

Just as she seemed to find the words to carry on, a thump cut through the silence, followed by a whiny cry and two overlapping shouts of, “Wasn’t me!”

Mrs Frinchen closed her eyes, a long sigh slipping out of her as she covered her mouth with the back of her hand. I took note of the gesture, something I’d seen a few people do, maybe like how posh ladies covered their mouths when laughing?

“There’s a room with a lock and two meals, no promises of peace when that lot’s awake,” she said, now wearing a defeated smile.

Looking at Hyraj, she showed no reaction. I still felt compelled to help, so gave her a nudge, smiling. She glanced at me and let out a sigh. “Please,” she said to Mrs Frinchen.

There was a lot going on inside the cottage. The door opened right into the lounge, crammed with mismatched furniture: six wooden chairs, no two looking the same, each with a differently patterned cushion, and a trio of side-tables.

Those were all on the smaller side too and the reason why was obvious, five young children huddled behind the farthest table. By the look of it, they were ages two to ten, the oldest and the second youngest boys, other three girls. As for the thump we’d heard, the little boy had quite the red eyes.

That was on the left side, on the right a door to the kitchen and, through a door there, the bathroom. “It was all one big room before the pipes came in, so I’m told,” Mrs Frinchen said, gesturing at the taps. “We moved in not that long. Well, near’s ten years now, so they’ll have to tell me if that’s long.”

I chuckled, her tone joking. Maybe it was me overthinking, but it also seemed like she had started speaking more “properly” once we were inside—trying to match Hyraj?

Anyway, I was impressed by the bathroom. It had a sink and a “shower” (really just a pipe that ran up the wall), and a flushing toilet. Rather than porcelain (if that was what they were made of in my old world), the sink and toilet were a mix of wood and metal, not quite the right shape, but there was only so different they could look.

I was glad the weather was fairly warm, imagining how cold that seat would be in winter….

Back in the lounge, she pointed out the two doors for the kids rooms, the last one to be our room. Now, I wasn’t the sharpest, but even I noticed that sort of left out, well, where she and her husband slept.

On cue, she pointed at the roof, a square patch different to its surroundings. “Da and me sleep up, so give us a knock if they need anything at night.”

It was all a bit odd, but really not close to as odd as sleeping in a rocky crevice.

With the tour over, Hyraj negotiated the rent, leaving me to look around the room. Well, look at the children. As noisy as they had been before we arrived, they stuck to a corner of the room now, whispering to each other. Once they noticed me, the younger ones ducked down, giggling, while the oldest two sort of squinted at me, maybe trying to look scary?

How cute.

Honestly, I wasn’t sure about the older boy. The orphanage had been girls-only, so I only knew about looking after girls. Not that I thought there was, like, a huge difference, but I doubted he would be interested in playing dolls or braiding my hair or anything like that.

Pulling me out of my thoughts, Hyraj tapped my elbow. As I turned around, Mrs Frinchen walked over to the kids, leaving us alone.

“That is it, you wish to stay here?”

I nodded before I could doubt myself. The family was desperate, so the price was good, those with money not interested in such a noisy place. At least, that was what the innkeeper had told us and it looked true enough.

Then I caught myself and stopped nodding. “Yes,” I said, trying not to be embarrassed over nodding.

“That is it.”

That it was.

We went back to the tavern and picked up our bags, then walked back in silence. I felt like more of an idiot with every step. Just because I was fine with kids, didn’t mean she was. She’d told the innkeeper she wasn’t. This wasn’t helping, was it? It was her money, so I shouldn’t have said anything, let her decide if she wanted to spend more for somewhere quiet.

By the time we arrived, I was on the verge of apologising and telling her we can stay elsewhere.

“It should not be for long, so let us make do,” she said, cutting through my thoughts.

I stood there frozen as she knocked and, after a few seconds, the door opened. Mrs Frinchen’s smile looked more natural now. I could imagine why, money the sort of thing it was hard to live without.

She showed us in and had the children line up, going through their names one at a time—from oldest to youngest: Chroj, Fesa, Lallie, Herf, and Yinnie. I wasn’t sure if some of those were more nicknames, Lallie and Yinnie sounding like ones. Fesa I’d heard before, meaning flower, the others not familiar.

“Any of these rascals cause them any trouble, just come get me and I’ll sort ’em out,” Mrs Frinchen said, arms crossed as she stared down her own children—as if daring them to deny it.

For their part, they all stood up straight and didn’t pull any faces. Well, except the toddler, her biggest sister trying to hold her still.

“Go settle in, I got the keys here,” Mrs Finchen then said, taking just one key off of a big keyring she had tied at her waist, dropping it back in her pocket when she finished. I’d noticed it was a thing around here to make random words plural. Not Hyraj, of course, but other people.

With the key in hand, Hyraj led the way to our new room. A small room. Not cramped, but there wasn’t space for much more than the bed and desk already in it. About the same as the tavern’s room, really, except there was a shower in the shared bathroom—and the noisy guests were around during the day rather than at night.

I didn’t know what Hyraj thought of it. Didn’t know if I wanted to know.

Well, it wouldn’t be for long, apparently, so we just had to make do.