That's all deeply interesting, but they've come to a halt in front of a numbered door. "Twenty-three," she says, and fits the key into the lock.
The room is spartan but comfortable: there's a small bed tucked into one corner and a chest which she presumes might act as a wardrobe at its foot. There is also a set of comfortable-looking chairs and a low table – through another door she can see what looks to be a washroom vastly improved from the ones she's familiar with.
(Inside, there is a large, deep tub that fills with hot water and scented oils at a touch.)
Everywhere, there are lit candles, filling the room with warm orange light and friendly shadows. Her eyes light on a series of banners hung along one wall: a crumbling tower, a diving swallow, a white star on black silk, a snarling wolf's head. And, hung in pride of place in the midst of these, three golden lions passant on an azure field.
She smiles to see it, her eyes gone soft and a little sad. "I am welcomed, indeed," she says, and unbuckles Zireael from around her torso to lay it on the neat bed.
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The room is spartan but comfortable: there's a small bed tucked into one corner and a chest which she presumes might act as a wardrobe at its foot. There is also a set of comfortable-looking chairs and a low table – through another door she can see what looks to be a washroom vastly improved from the ones she's familiar with.
(Inside, there is a large, deep tub that fills with hot water and scented oils at a touch.)
Everywhere, there are lit candles, filling the room with warm orange light and friendly shadows. Her eyes light on a series of banners hung along one wall: a crumbling tower, a diving swallow, a white star on black silk, a snarling wolf's head. And, hung in pride of place in the midst of these, three golden lions passant on an azure field.
She smiles to see it, her eyes gone soft and a little sad. "I am welcomed, indeed," she says, and unbuckles Zireael from around her torso to lay it on the neat bed.