Deamon went back to the inn and paid for an extra night.
He slid a few extra coins across the counter.
"One more night," he said simply.
The old man behind the desk, polishing a mug, gave him a friendly glance.
"You're not from around here, are you?"
Daemon didn't bother to lie.
"No."
The old man chuckled, wiping his hands on a worn cloth.
"Well, you picked a good place to rest. Aurelian's about as close to paradise as this world allows. Peaceful, safe, fair — you'll find no trouble here."
Daemon's crimson eyes flicked toward the window, watching the perfect little world outside.
"I can see that," he replied flatly.
His gaze slid back to the old man.
"You have a family?"
The man's smile softened.
"Just two grandkids now. My grandson, Toni — foolhardy boy — and his little sister, Jane. They're all I've got left."
Daemon nodded once, slow and indifferent.
"Sounds nice," he murmured, though the word felt foreign on his tongue.
