The inn Sir Gradral chose for us to rest at was called 'The Longing Table'.
Apparently, The Longing Table was a very cozy, well-known rest house-plus-bar among the locals of Eyress. "Very good duck they serve, Your Highness," was Sir Gradral's explanation. I cared not for the duck. Actually, I haven't ever tried duck, ever. And it's not like I want to.
Wrapped up in a cloak, I stepped out of the carriage and flinched when the sudden sun hit my face. I had walked none but two steps when I felt a gentle tap on my shoulder. "Now, don't stray away from me, Your Highness," Sir Gradral said, fixing his own cape around his head like a cloak. "It's very easy to get lost in the busy streets of Eyress after all. More so, for it is 'Market Day' today; people would be bustling to get their goods at a cheaper rate."
Market Day? That's the first I ever heard of it after arriving here.
