Breakfast consisted of odd patties made from cooked grain, fried with bits of sausage. Not exactly inedible, but far from great. I picked at it half-heartedly, more interested in watching Rue charm his way into a family of five. The three kids, sneaky little masterminds, fed him half their breakfast under the table—and somehow pulled it off without their parents catching on. Go kids!
Al was a no-show—bloodhound indeed.
Mahya poked at her plate with a fork, her face scrunching in disgust before she huffed and pushed it away. “Let’s go find something better,” she said, shaking her head at the sorry excuse for a meal.
“Rue!” I called out, wiping my hands on a napkin as I stood up. “We’re leaving.”
Rue glanced up from where he lay near their table, surrounded by three giggling kids. He wagged his tail furiously and accepted another bite of food. “Rue stay with friends!” he declared with a mental burst of excitement.
I rubbed the back of my neck, glancing toward the parents, who were deep in conversation and oblivious to the covert operation under their noses. “I’m not sure it will be okay with the parents,” I sent back telepathically.
Rue tilted his head. “John ask,” he insisted, with all the determination of a stubborn child unwilling to leave a new playdate.
I sighed and approached the parents with what I hoped was a friendly smile. “Hello,” I started, catching their attention. Both of them looked up, the father giving me a nod while the mother raised an eyebrow. “I’m the owner of the, uh, white big dog. He wants to stay and play—”
A sharp pinch on my butt made me spin around fast. A buxom blond woman stood there, arms crossed, lips curled into a smug grin. She gave me an exaggerated once-over like I was a tasty slab of meat. What the hell? Was I covered in honey or something?
My eyes narrowed as I shot her the stink eye, holding it long enough to make my point. She lifted her hands in surrender, her grin unfaltering. “Seriously?” I muttered, turning back to the parents, shaking my head in disbelief. “How rude!”
The father gave a solemn nod of agreement. The mother blinked at me, completely unbothered. “How else can she show her interest?” she asked, as if butt-pinching was perfectly normal.
I stared at her, mouth opening and closing like a fish. “Not by pinching my butt, that’s for sure!” I finally managed, throwing my hands up. Rue found this hilarious; his mental laughter rang in my head, and his body shook.
He spends too much time with Mahya. First cursing, and now this!
The mother shrugged one shoulder. “You started to say something?”
I exhaled, willing myself to calm down. “Yes. My dog wants to stay at the inn and play with your children. Would that be alright with you?”
She turned her gaze to Rue. He tilted his head, ears twitching, and his massive tail began thumping against the floor with a rhythmic thud-thud-thud. His tongue lolled out in an exaggerated pant, and he opened his eyes wide, radiating nothing but pure, wholesome innocence.
I blinked, wondering how he pulled off the adorable puppy act when he was practically the size of a horse. The contrast between his sheer bulk and sweet expression was almost too much.
The mother’s lips twitched upward in a faint smile. “Well,” she said slowly, “how could I possibly say no to that face?”
The kids erupted into cheers, their excitement echoing through the dining hall as they scrambled to hug Rue’s massive frame. His tail wagged harder, sending a chair skidding across the floor. Meanwhile, his voice rang in my head, a jubilant mental shout.
“Rue stay! Rue stay with friends!”
I rubbed the back of my neck, watching the chaos unfold. “I’ll leave the room open,” I sent to him. “But listen—if you want to talk to the kids aloud, make sure the parents aren’t around to hear. Just in case.”
Rue nodded and gave me a wide, toothy grin, his tongue flapping like a flag in the wind. “Yes boss!”
Mahya and I wandered a few streets over and found a restaurant that actually knew how to make a decent breakfast. The smell of freshly baked bread and sizzling meat greeted us as we stepped inside and had a good breakfast. After paying the bill, I leaned back in my chair and asked, “Do you have any plans?”
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She put her cup down and nodded. “Yeah, I have a meeting at the mage guild.”
That caught me off guard. “Wait, they have a mage guild here?”
“Why shouldn’t they?”
“Because it’s low mana?”
“Twenty-seven is not that low,” she countered. “And yes, they do. I’ll be done there in a few hours.”
“Alright, I’ll be back at the inn for lunch if you want to go do something,” I offered, standing up and stretching.
She nodded. “Sounds good.”
With that, we went our separate ways, she heading toward the mage guild and me wandering back through the streets, wondering how I’d kill time until lunch.
This time, I wandered through the more affluent area, taking in the surroundings. The architecture stood out with its elegance, the people wore finer clothes, and the streets were cleaner. After a couple of hours, I stumbled across an entire street lined with galleries showcasing various art forms. The paintings brought Earth to mind, primarily landscapes and portraits, with none of the so-called modern art monstrosities. The sculptures were grand, many towering over me, and some seemed to hum with magic. I could sense the mana in them but couldn’t decipher its purpose. Curious.
One statue caught my attention—a predator rearing up on its hind legs like a bear, mouth frozen mid-roar. Mana radiated from it, and I stood there, trying to figure out what function it served. As I focused, two women approached, flanking me and standing uncomfortably close. It felt deliberate, like they intended to box me in, cutting off any chance of slipping away.
I turned my head from one to the other, keeping my posture relaxed despite the slight tension in the air. “Hello, ladies,” I said with a smile.
“Hello, cutie,” the one on my right said, her lips curling in a playful smirk. She was tall and thin, with dark brown hair and freckles.
Well, that was a novel experience. I’d never been called that before.
“Would you like to join us for lunch?” the woman on the left asked, her tone softer but no less forward. She shifted her weight onto one hip, her full figure accentuated by a fitted dress. Her dirty blond hair framed her round face as she fixed me with an inviting look.
I smiled politely and shook my head. “Thank you for the invitation, but I have plans.”
The brunette chuckled, brushing it off like it was no big deal, but the blonde’s expression soured. Her eyes narrowed slightly as her lips pursed into a thin line. As they turned to leave, the blonde leaned closer to her friend and whispered, “The pretty ones always think too highly of themselves.”
I exhaled quietly, glancing at the statue again to mask my amusement. Women in this world were noticeably more aggressive than I was used to.
When I returned to the inn, I spotted Mahya sitting at a table, her arms crossed. One table over, three guys were sitting, their eyes glued to her as they practically batted their eyelashes in unison. I glanced between the two tables a few times, weighing whether I wanted to understand what was happening. Ultimately, I decided it was better for my mental health if I didn’t.
I slid into the seat across from her, and the trio immediately looked like someone had just canceled Christmas. Their dejection was almost comical.
Mahya shook her head. “Don’t ask.”
“I’m not,” I replied, raising my hands to ward off the explanation.
That didn’t stop her from launching into it. “Can you believe that when I was in the mage guild, some spindly mage—thin as a twig—started flexing in front of me? And then he started sticking out his butt like some mating dance.”
“I hope you didn’t laugh in his face.”
She gave me a flat look, the kind reserved for someone who’s just asked the world’s dumbest question.
I groaned, rubbing my face with both hands. “Of course you did.”
Mahya looked delighted with herself.
A server brought us food. I took out the salt shaker and asked, “Where’s Rue?”
She pointed to a door at the back of the room. “At the backyard, playing with the kids. I already arranged with the innkeeper to feed him when he comes in.”
“Thanks.”
After lunch, we explored the city some more and, thankfully, had no more strange adventures involving the opposite sex. We discovered a theater and watched a show. It reminded me of Lumis in a way.
The play was simple but entertaining. Three bards played music that had a dreamy vibe, with one of them singing a ballad about star-crossed lovers separated by a magical river. On stage, the actors acted it out with big, sweeping gestures and exaggerated expressions that reminded me of a few silent films I watched in the past. They used a long strip of blue fabric for the river, waving it around like it was flowing. It wasn’t fancy, but it worked, and the audience seemed hooked.
I could feel the mana in their playing and singing, but the effects completely differed from my skills. The music left me feeling dreamy and wistful, while the singing brought the lovers’ pain and longing to life in a way that hit me unexpectedly. It was a strange experience. Although I’d used music to calm the mana beasts in the Lumis swamp, it had never crossed my mind that bards could have such a mental effect on me. It left me unsettled, but I still enjoyed the show.
We returned to the inn for dinner, primarily to check on Rue, and found him sprawled in front of the fireplace, snoring softly, completely wiped out from his day with the kids. I crouched down and gently shook his shoulder, but even the promise of food barely stirred him. Eventually, his ears twitched, and one sleepy eye cracked open, but that was the extent of his enthusiasm. The kids had really worn him out.
Dinner was uneventful, for which I was grateful. There were no unexpected interruptions, no dramatic overtures—just the quiet hum of a normal evening. As I leaned back in my chair, feeling the satisfying weight of a good meal and a sense of peace, I relaxed. That was more than enough to call it a good day.