The family stepped out of the Silver Stag into the cooling evening air. The main street bustled with merchants closing their shops and nobles heading to dinner parties in their fine carriages.
"This way." Leo turned down a narrower cobblestone street that branched away from the city center. The buildings here stood shorter, their facades less ornate but well-maintained.
Elly's skirts swished as she navigated around puddles. "The architecture's different here. More practical."
"Merchant district," Elen noted. "Where the real money flows."
They passed several inns, each marked with painted wooden signs swaying in the breeze. The Golden Chalice looked too opulent, its windows gleaming with expensive glass. The Sailor's Rest appeared too rough, with loud singing spilling from its common room.
"There." Leo pointed to a three-story building of solid stone construction. A wooden sign depicted a sleeping fox curled around a pillow. "The Dreaming Fox."
Greg studied the establishment. "Decent stables in the back."
"Clean windows, fresh paint," Felix observed. "But not trying too hard."
They entered the inn's front room. A crackling fireplace cast warm light across polished wooden floors. Several merchants sat at scattered tables, discussing business over cups of wine. The innkeeper, a middle-aged woman with practical braids, looked up from her ledger.
"Welcome to the Dreaming Fox. Looking for rooms?"
"Two adjoining suites, if you have them," Elen approached the counter. "For at least a month."
The innkeeper's eyes assessed their clothes - quality fabric but travel-worn. "Second floor, overlooking the garden. Quiet, private entrance. Twenty silver a week, includes breakfast and stable space for your horses."
"Perfect." Leo nodded to Elen.
"I'll show you up." The innkeeper grabbed two iron keys from hooks behind her. "Martha, mind the desk."
A young serving girl hurried over to take her place as they followed the innkeeper up a well-maintained staircase. The wooden steps didn't creak under their feet - a good sign.
The innkeeper unlocked two heavy wooden doors, revealing spacious rooms with freshly-made beds and sturdy furniture. Tall windows overlooked a courtyard garden where herb beds and fruit trees grew in neat rows."Each suite has its own washing room." She gestured to side doors. "The stables are through that gate below, with direct access to-"
"Actually," Leo stepped forward, "we won't need the stable space. We arrived by carriage and don't keep horses."
The innkeeper's eyebrows rose. "No horses at all? That's unusual for travelers planning an extended stay."
"We prefer to walk or hire transport as needed." Elen moved to inspect the washing room. "The city's compact enough."
"Well, that changes things." The innkeeper pulled a small ledger from her apron. "Horse care isn't cheap - feed, bedding, stable keep. I can reduce the rate by five silver per week without it."
"Fifteen silver weekly then." Leo nodded. "That seems fair."
"Done." The innkeeper made a note in her ledger. "I'll have hot water brought up for washing. Breakfast is served from sunrise until mid-morning in the common room, or we can bring trays up for a small extra charge."
"The common room will do fine." Elly wandered to the window, trailing her fingers along the spotless glass. "The garden looks lovely."
"My pride and joy." The innkeeper smiled. "The herbs go straight to our kitchen. You won't find fresher seasoning in any inn across the city."
She placed the room keys on a side table. "I'll leave you to settle in. If you need anything, just ring the bell pull by the door."
Spring had chased them north during their journey to the capital. While the southern provinces still shivered under winter's last grasp, here the warming winds had already coaxed life from dormant branches."The gardens look different from when we left," Elly leaned against the window frame, watching gardeners tend to fresh sprouts below.
"The capital always blooms first." Leo joined her at the window. Young leaves unfurled on the courtyard's fruit trees, their branches dotted with tight pink and white buds ready to burst. "The city walls trap heat, and the river moderates the temperature."
Through the window, patches of bright green grass poked through between the cobblestones. Window boxes along the street overflowed with early flowers - purple crocus and yellow daffodils nodding in the breeze.
Elen pulled off his traveling cloak, hanging it by the door. "The merchants will be happy. Spring means the northern trade routes are opening up again."
"And the southern harvests arriving." Leo watched a cart loaded with fresh vegetables roll past on the street below. The driver called out prices for early spring greens and root vegetables preserved from winter storage.
The city had shed its winter grey. Bright awnings stretched over market stalls, and fresh paint brightened doorways. Even the stone walls seemed to glow warmer in the strengthening sun. In protected corners, hardy weeds pushed through cracks in the pavement - spots of defiant green in the urban landscape.
A warm breeze carried the scent of fresh earth and growing things through the window. Spring had transformed the capital while they travelled, turning the stark winter city into a place of renewal and possibility.
The innkeeper's girl brought up steaming buckets of water and fresh linens. The family took turns washing away the road dust in their respective rooms."Finally, a real bed." Greg flopped onto the mattress, his weight making the sturdy frame creak.
Felix claimed the other bed by the window. "Better than camping under the stars."
"You two take those beds." Elen dragged a thickly padded chair closer to the door. "I'll sleep here."
In the adjoining room, Elly emerged from behind the privacy screen in her nightgown, her damp hair braided for sleep. She climbed into the bed nearest the washroom while Leo took the one by the window.
"The sheets smell like lavender." Elly buried her face in the pillow. "They must dry them in the garden."
Leo blew out the last candle, leaving only moonlight filtering through the windows. The sounds of the city grew muffled - distant carriages on cobblestones, the occasional shout of a night watchman calling the hour. From somewhere below came the soft murmur of late-night patrons in the common room.
The beds proved as comfortable as they looked. Fresh straw mattresses covered in soft ticking, blankets heavy enough for the spring chill but not stifling. Leo settled into his pillow, listening to Elly's breathing even out as she drifted off.
In the other room, Greg's familiar snores rumbled through the wall. Felix's quieter breathing joined in counterpoint while Elen also soon fell asleep.
The long days of travel caught up with them. One by one, the family surrendered to sleep in their new temporary home.