Chapter 16

When the village elder of Auridon led Lannor out of the tavern, the rain had already stopped, though the heavy clouds still hung low overhead.

As old Aaron walked ahead, his face looked as foul as if he had gambled away even his own wife at the table.

Yet the moment he turned back toward Lannor, he became all eagerness and warmth.

A contradiction.

Like a man clutching a treasure too hot to hold and too precious to let go, something he could neither keep comfortably nor part with.

The village was small; it took only a few steps to reach their destination.

It was a house just slightly better than the village average.

The wooden piles forming its foundation stood higher, keeping it farther from the damp water below, and the timber walls were visibly sturdier than those of the surrounding huts.

This was the elder’s house.

Truth be told, Lannor had not expected much.

“This is my house. We can fit in another bed inside. You can rest here from now on.”

Old Aaron spoke as he opened the door and ushered Lannor in.

The interior was exactly what the young man had anticipated.

There were only two connected rooms in total, one serving as both parlor and sleeping quarters, the other as kitchen and storeroom.

The so-called bed was nothing more than a heap of dry straw mixed with rags and bits of stuffing, covered with a relatively intact piece of cloth as a sheet.

This was already the bedding used by the elder and his wife; the extra bed he meant to prepare for himself could hardly be any better.

If this had been Lannor not long after arriving in Velen, he might not have imagined himself resting on such a “bed.”

But now, after letting his cat eyes sweep the room, the young man simply nodded, accepting it without fuss.

It was crude, but at least it was clean.

A ring of fresh, vivid flowers even hung along the wooden wall, a sign of devotion to Goddess Melitele.