As we arrived at the inn, the dim lighting of the foyer did little to mask the shock on the innkeeper's face when she saw us. Her eyes widened, her hand flying to her mouth in horror as she took in my bloodstained clothes. Her gaze quickly darted from me to Chris, who stood beside Father, her usually bright eyes dulled with exhaustion.
"Oh my, what happened?" she gasped, stepping back as if the sight of us might somehow bring more chaos into her quiet establishment. The weight of what we had been through lingered heavily around us, making the inn's once-warm atmosphere feel distant and cold.
Father, his expression steely and unyielding, didn't spare her more than a brief glance. "We don't have time for explanations right now," he said, his voice firm. "Just give us the room key and let us pass."
