Enchantingly Different

Chapter 11

Thank you for reading this far. I just wanted to let you know that I haven't been doing much editing so there will be errors in here still. If you're enjoying reading, please leave a comment or give me a vote to let me know :) Thanks guys!

The door opens with an ominous creak revealing a dark, small room. I wrinkle my nose as we step over the threshold and I can hear the floor groan in protest.

“It smells like something died in here,” she mutters, mirroring my own thoughts. She slips the small bag from her shoulder and drops it onto the only bed in the room. The whole bed rattles and shakes, then finally collapses onto the wooden floorboards, a cloud of dust exploding into the air. She looks at me, her mouth hanging open.

“Better the bag rather than us,” I respond with a shrug.

“I’m going to ask for a different room. This is ridiculous!”

I step in front of her and reach for her wrists.

“I’ll go, you stay here,” I say before kissing each of her hands. I leave her standing in the middle of room in defeat and head back down the narrow staircase. As I round the corner to enter the bar area, I bump into none other than the elderly man with the white eye.

Now that I’m closer, I can see the burns down the side of his face are a lot worse than I first thought. They swirl down the side of his neck and disappear underneath the collar on his shirt. The longer I stare, I realize that they are shimmering, or is it just the light?

“You wanna watch where you’re going?” The man’s one good eye narrows at me and he bears his sharp yellow teeth at me. I naturally recoil away from him, but as I see his cane, something tells me that I don’t need to fear this man. He’s probably more bark than bite.

“Sorry, sir,” I reply, dipping my head and moving around him. He grunts in response and I can feel his eyes on me as I make my way up to the bar. The man who gave me the room is exactly where I left him before, standing with the same expression on his face. I approach gingerly and he grins even wider as I stop in front of him.

“Yes?”

“Umm, do you have another room available by chance? The one you gave us is…”

“What’s wrong with it?” He grimaces at me and leans on the counter, closing the space between us. I have to take a small step back and take a deep breath to steady myself.

“The bed; it’s broken,” I respond, straightening up and maintaining eye contact.

“If it’s broken, it’s because you broke it. I have no other room available. Put up with it or go somewhere else!” He turns and shuffles away, muttering as he goes. “And you owe me for the bed,” he hollers over his shoulder just before disappearing.

I return to the room with my head hanging in disgrace. I suppose we can look around town and find another place. A woman like her shouldn’t be sleeping on a broken bed in a dingy inn. She should be in my bed, swathed in satin and silk, but that’s wishful thinking. I would at least settle for somewhere clean until I can figure that out.

 I open the door and I almost think that I walked into the wrong room. The musty smell is masked by the fresh air flowing in through the open window. Light pours in through the curtains that have been swept open, revealing the setting sun that projects beautiful warm colors all over the walls.

Now it’s actually light, I can see that there is a light blue wall paper covered in daisies and a small table and chairs sits in the corner. A blue glass vase sits in the center with a handful of wild flowers inside it.