Char tried a little bit of everything. She was not [i]impolite[/i]. She was partial to the stew and ate most of it, not that Amal seemed to mind- he seemed happy they were fed at all. Which made sense; they had just come from eating next-to-nothing. It was not a thing she had experienced until she had come to the surface; she was of the nobility, and they were always fed.

The fruit pottage Char had been uncertain about turned out to be absolutely [i]divine[/i]. She downed the last of her mead, feeling pleasantly vibrant even before Amal’s suggestion of drinking in the room. “Yes, that sounds like a good idea.”

They were led up some stairs to their room, ushered to the last door on the left. There were two beds and while they were not the pinnacle of luxury, they looked like they would be comfortable.

But first things first. Once the door was closed and it was just the two of them, the cloak came off, hung on a stand in the corner. Char stretched her arms high and wide above her head. The spider web that adorned her back, peeking out from under her tunic, shifted as she did. “Oh, this is so much better,” she said, glancing over to Amal as she pulled off her armour.

“Tell me something.”