Dead Reckoning

Chapter 13: One Bed, No Big Deal

The day had passed in a blur of ancient scrolls, cryptic texts, and Cassander's infuriating visit, leaving Rory's mind buzzing with half-formed theories and more questions than answers. The library of Aerisfeld had given them a few crumbs, but no clear path forward. As the sun dipped below the horizon, painting the cliffs in hues of pink and gold, Rory and Hadrien made their way back to the inn, weary from their search.

"I think I've read enough ancient prophecies to last a lifetime," Rory muttered, rubbing her temples as they climbed the winding stone steps leading up to the inn. "And still, I'm not any closer to figuring out how all of this ties together."

Hadrien shot her a sympathetic smile. "Prophecies are like that—cryptic, vague, and designed to make you second-guess everything. But don't worry, we'll piece it together. It just might take more than a day in a library."

Rory huffed, though she appreciated his optimism. "Great. So we'll just keep running around, dodging wolves, gods, and cryptic visions until we stumble into the answer?"

Hadrien grinned. "Pretty much. Sounds like an adventure, doesn't it?"

"Sounds like a headache," Rory corrected, though a small smile tugged at her lips. Despite her frustration, Hadrien's lightheartedness had a way of easing the tension in her chest. And after Cassander's unnerving visit, she needed something—anything—to help her feel grounded.

They stepped into the inn, the warm glow of the hearth welcoming them like an old friend. The innkeeper waved them over, tossing a dishtowel over her shoulder as she motioned to the key in her hand.

"Just got your room ready," she said cheerfully, handing the key to Rory. "It's been a long day, I'm sure. The wind can be exhausting in these parts."

"Thanks," Rory replied, taking the key and offering a tired smile. She and Hadrien exchanged a glance before heading upstairs to the room they had booked.

The door creaked as Rory pushed it open, revealing a cozy, if not slightly cramped, space with a single bed sitting squarely in the center. A small window overlooked the cliffs, and a thick, woolen blanket was draped neatly across the bed.

Rory froze.

"Oh no," she muttered, eyes widening in disbelief. "It's happening."

Hadrien, who had been right behind her, peered over her shoulder into the room. "What's happening?"

"This," Rory said, gesturing dramatically to the bed. "This is exactly what happens in every fantasy novel ever written. The one bed trope."

Hadrien blinked, clearly not following. "The... one bed what?"

Rory sighed, walking into the room and tossing her pack onto the floor. "You know, when two characters—usually the heroine and the charming, infuriatingly handsome knight—are forced to share one bed because of circumstances outside their control. It's classic. It's practically a requirement in fantasy stories."

Hadrien raised an eyebrow, his lips twitching into a grin. "Charming and infuriatingly handsome, huh? I'll take that as a compliment."

Rory gave him a deadpan look. "Don't flatter yourself. I'm just pointing out that this is ridiculous. I mean, of course there's only one bed. It's like the universe is laughing at me."

Hadrien chuckled, stepping inside and leaning casually against the doorframe. "So, in these books you read, how does it usually go? Does the heroine graciously offer the bed to the knight, or do they both awkwardly pretend they don't notice the one-bed situation?"

"Oh, it depends," Rory said, plopping down onto the edge of the bed with a dramatic sigh. "Sometimes the heroine insists on sleeping on the floor to avoid any awkwardness. Sometimes the knight is the one who offers to be chivalrous and take the floor. And sometimes..." She trailed off, glancing up at him with a mischievous smirk. "Sometimes they just end up sharing the bed."