We arrived at the top of a low hill overlooking the town of Raialie the next day sometime in the late afternoon. Compared to what I had seen thus far of civilization on this world, the place was fairly nice-looking.

Off in the far distance, the sun’s light faintly reflected off of a pair of rivers that snaked their way into the valley below and spilled into a large lake. After accumulating there, these streams then continued on their own ways. One, the smallest and the one which we had been encountering on our journey, traveled past us to the east and slightly north. The other much larger river, traveled more directly northward toward what I was told was the city of Bradfirth and the center of power of the Enbraden territory.

Naturally, all of these landmarks had names, but it was not until some time later that I found them out via a bit of a local legend. As the story went, there was some ancient goddess named Isaf who fell from the sky and died on that spot. The story rambled on about some sort of petty jealousies and rivalries that caused the incident, but by the end of it, the goddess was dead.

And in the weird way that these stories often go, she happened to be pregnant at the time. The two rivers were actually her two sons—Isafel the Elder and Isafel the Younger—who had crawled out of her womb. Contrary to my own expectations, the Elder was the smaller of the two.

The lake, Elisaf, was apparently what was left of her womb.

Strangely enough, at the time I had been unsure whether to believe the story. I say strange only because I would have normally dismissed it out of hand. It had all the hallmarks of the kind of mythical bullshit stories humans once told to explain some natural phenomena, yet I happened to know for a matter of absolute fact that goddesses existed on this world. So that led me to believe that there might be at least some degree of truth to it.

Either way, it seemed like a good spot to put a town. Rivers were always good for trade, and as this was something of a crossroads between two of them, you could not ask for a better commercial hub. Plus, as Raialie was perched right on the edge of it and nestled between the two rivers, I was sure that the lake provided quite a lot of fishing for the locals.

That said, while the town did look fairly impressive what with the stone walls and the harbor, it seemed a little too small. From my own perspective as a modern American man, towns were sprawling things that went on for miles. Even a town with as few as twenty-five thousand people—which did not even count as urban by my own standards—would take a full day or more to traverse on foot, and you definitely would not have been able to just look down from a hill and see the whole thing.

As far as I could tell, the place looked to be about a mile across. Two at most. And yet, Arx had told me that there would be at least two to four thousand people living there. Of course, the small population size might have accounted for it, but in my experience, a town with so few people as that would never be so built up as this one. Then again, America had come about after the time of city walls and fortifications, so we had never seen the need to pack ourselves quite so tightly together.

Well… where I had lived, anyway. The really big cities were another story.

I took a breath and rolled my shoulders once before setting out once more, and my two lilim—technically, Do-lilim now, but I was trying not to think about that—fell into step on either side of me.

To my chagrin, we were now sporting very similar outfits in both cut and style, and of course, it was all made from the same bright green cloth. Jax did not have the prowess to do more on such short notice, so I was… mostly content to make do.

The top was just fine as far I was concerned. It was simply a long strip of fabric with a hole cut into the middle of it for the head and then draped over the body like a poncho. And instead of sewing the sides together, it was secured with a length of twine wrapped a few times around the ribs. It was crude but functional.

I thought it looked better on the lilim than myself, though. Of course, they had made a few alterations to their own by cutting out the neckline into a deep V, and then by wrapping the twine as closely as possible beneath their breasts, they had managed to wrestle the misshapen cloth into something distinctly feminine. And I was not completely certain whether it had been intentional or not, but their garments had been cut slightly shorter than my own which had left a ribbon of skin exposed at their mid-riff.

They were still dissatisfied with the result, but I thought it looked pretty good. It was simple but comely, and the lilim had only complained of minor interference to their emotional absorption abilities while wearing it. So it worked well enough for now.

My own issue was to do with the bottom part of the outfit… which was a skirt.

Here again, Jax had started with a long strip of cloth, but by instead folding the long edge of it over a slightly longer length of twine and sewing it shut at roughly finger-length intervals, she had created something like a drawstring. This we had simply tied around our waists and turned it so that the gap would be at the hip.

Quite frankly, I was mortified to walk into town like this, but it was better than a loincloth. Somewhat. And kilts existed somewhere in the universe, so that gave me some solace. Coincidentally, my lilim did not have the sewing prowess to cobble together any underwear on short notice, so much as would be traditional for a kilt, my package was dangling loose just beneath the fabric. I could feel it jostling around down there every time I took a step, and I was sure that people would stare at the bulge it made.

Abruptly, Arx stumbled, and I quickly shot out a hand to steady her.

“Arx?” I asked with some concern.

After condensing her Core again the previous evening, she was now at Core Layer 6 which had put her Agility all the way up to 15—well above the maximum that mortals could naturally achieve. For her to lose her footing was more than a little strange.

She averted her eyes after straightening back up and coughed into her hand. “Sorry. I uh… I wasn’t looking where I was going.”

Jax snorted from behind me, and when I turned to look at her, I could tell that she was trying not to smile. I quirked an eyebrow suspiciously, but I decided not to comment. Their minds were usually in the gutter, so I had an idea as to what Arx had been looking at.

Damn it… I knew it.

“Come on,” I said instead. “I’d like to find an inn before nightfall. I feel like I haven’t had a bath or a bed in a year. I’m sure I smell rancid.”

“Far from it, Master,” Jax assured me as we resumed our trek. “But I know ye won’t believe it from us.”

“Obviously,” I replied. “You two are far too biased.”

“That’s true,” Arx chuckled. “I would be almost terrified with how obsessed I’m getting with you, if I weren’t so deliriously happy about it.”

I smiled helplessly at the admission. If this were anything like a normal relationship, I would be more than a little concerned by a statement like that. As a rule, obsession was not a positive trait. However, there was nothing normal about our situation, so I just had to take solace with the fact that at least she felt comfortable enough to be able to admit her feelings.

And it was nice to be thought of so fondly.

“I like you, too, Arx,” I said.

She squealed slightly and turned away.

Jax barked out a laugh at that before casting a speculative look at her sister. “Master, if ye don’t mind the telling,” she began, turning to me, “whereabouts be the Loyalties and Devotions of the Do-lilim Clan, Donum?”

I rolled my eyes at the reminder of that little event. I felt like there was some great, celestial Nelson in the sky, pointing at me, and yelling, “Ha Ha!”

Sighing in defeat, I pulled up my stat page, though I did not bother to look it over beyond finding what Jax had asked for. Despite steadily increasing my own Core’s fill level, day by day, I did not feel like I was anywhere close to achieving the next Layer. So beyond reminding myself that I still needed to distribute my stat points, I left it alone.

“Okay… says here that Arx’s Loyalty has climbed all the way up to 95%,” I reported, “and Jax, your Devotion stat seems to be sitting at 20%.”

Arx clapped excitedly, “Oh, I thought it might be getting high.”

“Really?” I asked curiously. “Why’s that?”

“I-I don’t know how to say it, really,” she replied with a nervous energy. “But I guess… I’ve been feeling something building inside of me? Like… I’m just happy to be around you? Being near you… it’s… oh, I can’t describe it! But it’s wonderful! And everyday, I think about you more and more. But…” she grimaced slightly in frustration, “I’m sorry. I can’t find the words.”

“Ye’re close enough,” Jax supplied for her. “I think on it as the building of our love fer ye, but… without bounds nor conditions? It comes from a place of… of knowing ye, I guess. Who ye are down to yer roots. I know what ye’ll do and how ye’ll think almost on instinct now. I almost feel…” she trailed off and looked thoughtfully into the distance.

Arx shook her head slightly, “I don’t know that I’m quite there yet. But… I do find myself wondering what you’d think in different situations. And I care… a lot about how my decisions will affect you.”

“Hmm… I guess… that does line up somewhat to what loyalty would entail,” I mused. Extreme loyalty. “What about this Devotion of yours, Jax?” I asked. “Are you getting a sense for that yet?”

“A suspicion,” she admitted before glancing back at me. There was a long pause after that as she held my gaze, apparently deep in thought, but then abruptly, she smiled. “Do ye know, Master, I were thinking… since ye keep worrying so much at yer aroma, it makes me wonder… Maybe yer smelling me own scent and trying to tell me something?”

I snorted derisively. “Wow, okay. Deflect much?”

“No, seriously,” she persisted. “Ye never have said, and I’d like to know it.”

“Me, too,” Arx added before looking down and hefting her bosom thoughtfully. “Actually, now that you bring it up, I’ve always heard from women with large breasts that sometimes you can get a little body odor underneath. So, I’ve been wondering—”

Jax gasped, “Oh, ye heavy boot! How dare ye bring that up? We had a truce! Besides, ye ain’t so big as that, and ye know it! Just because ye grew more’n me last time—”

“And so what if I did?” Arx shot back, interrupting. “These are my quest reward! I would be disappointed if it didn’t at least grow to a respectable size. And they are so that big! Look!” Casually pulling her poncho to one side, she freed one of her breasts and stuck a finger underneath. “See? It almost gets swallowed up under there. I bet you can’t even see it anymore!”

“I can so!” Jax growled angrily. “Tell her, Master! Tell her you can still see her finger!”

I cleared my throat. This argument was becoming a near daily occurrence, and while it was annoying, there was also a certain appeal to having a pair of beautiful feminine creatures shoving their breasts in my face.

Not that I would ever admit that. The last thing I wanted to do was to encourage them.

“I think… that they’re big enough now that they could swallow up your finger,” I allowed, trying to remain diplomatically neutral, “if they sagged at all.”

“Ha!” they both crowed triumphantly, but then Arx decided to throw gas on the fire. “Besides, we both know that’s not what you’re really upset about.”

So saying, she pulled down the back of her skirt slightly to reveal the stump of a tail that had grown there overnight. It twitched back and forth slightly.

“Bloody wench!” Jax shouted, splaying her claws. “It were my Boundary what started that. That ye’d start to grow such afore me… grah!”

I sighed loudly. This is getting ridiculous. They were like a couple of children arguing over who had the biggest slice of cake. If I let things keep going this way, then before long, the two of them would probably start ripping each other’s clothes off! Not that I would mind that too much ordinarily, but we were well within view of town. And Arx was already half undressed.

It was time to step in.

“Ladies… we’re coming up on the gates, and I’d really rather not have to explain to the guards why I had to stop to paddle two full grown adults.”

At my words, the argument went up in a puff of smoke. Arx sucked in a breath, and moaning slightly, she bit her lower lip. Meanwhile, Jax had to actually stop for a few moments just to contain her shivers.

“Master…” she breathed finally, “ye should nay threaten such when ye don’t mean it. Ye made me leak a little.”

I smirked. Hmm… if I can get results like that, then I’m going to have to put my foot down more often. “You just wait until we get to an inn, you little minx. I’ll spank you until the sun comes up!”

“Master~!”

*****

“Uhm… Name and occupation,” the guard said somewhat distractedly before his eyes drifted downward again.

After having crossed an arched cobblestone bridge over the river, we had come to stand in front of a pair of wooden doors that were inset into the city walls. From their width, I assumed that they were to allow wagons or carriages to pass through. They were closed currently, though there was another much smaller door set within them that was open for foot traffic.

“Donum Jax, Quester,” Jax reported.

She had a defiant tilt to her chin and something of a hard edge to her expression, yet the guard did not seem to notice—which was… understandable. Uncouth but understandable. And while I was rather irritated by the situation, I only had myself to blame.

Jax was a dyed in the wool masochist and incredibly horny as a rule, and threatening her with a little bit of… recreational punishment minutes before having to interact with government officials had probably not been the brightest of moves. As a result, the guard was left rather helplessly staring at the nipples prominently tenting the thin fabric of her top.

I was having a hard time not looking at them, myself.

Jax stuck her chest out even further, and I caught her glancing over at me. Hmph… doesn’t care at all, so long as I get an eyeful. She winked at me.

There was a bit of an awkward pause after that. Apparently, the guard had forgotten what he was supposed to be doing, and his compatriot, a slightly larger female laoi, elbowed him roughly in the side. He jumped guiltily.

The two of them were wearing matching pot helms, a chain shirt, and a tabard over top of that for uniforms. Naturally, I did not recognize the colors or the insignia that had been embroidered in them, but I assumed it was to do with either the city or some clan that was responsible for running it.

“Right… uhm,” the guard cleared his throat, “And you, miss?”

“Arx,” Arx replied, though she did bother to look at the man. She was staring rather fixedly at the woman, who I noticed was trying very hard not to look at anyone at all. Arx subtly shifted in front of me protectively. “Donum Arx. And this is Donum, our Clan head. We’re all of us Questers.”

“A Clan head, eh?” the man said slowly. “You… the same kind as the two of them?”

I looked at him in confusion. From the question, I assumed he was addressing me, but I could not see how he could have possibly drawn that conclusion. Then again, he had never once managed to tear his eyes from the two lilim.

“That’s right,” Jax lied smoothly, and I had to use my skill, Forgotten in Stillness, to keep from reacting. “Our males don’t have horns.” Or pointed ears, Jax! Nobody’s going to believe that!

“Huh…” the guard said, apparently forgetting about me already. It took all my willpower not to stare at him like the idiot he apparently was, but my efforts were wasted. His eyes were already drifting downward again, this time fixated on Arx. Another sharp elbow took him in the side, and he jerked. “Uwuh… what’s your business in Raialie?” he asked a little too quickly.

“Just passing through,” I said evenly. I could understand where the man was coming from. Here the guy was, stationed for guard duty, day in and day out, no doubt bored out of his skull, and then one day, two stunning nymphs come skipping over the river to stand before him? And barely clothed? It was no wonder he was having a hard time concentrating. But come on, man! Have some decency! “We may stay a while if you have any sort of uh… sporting events?”

Arx turned to look back at me sharply, and she studied my features for a moment. Somewhat befuddled by her reaction, I sent her a questioning look of my own.

“Specifically, combat tournaments,” she clarified after a moment. She gave me one last thoughtful look before turning back to the guard. “One-on-one battles? That kind of thing?”

“Sure,” the man said shortly before jerking his thumb at his compatriot. “Eithne here’s got an uncle what runs an arena, don’t he, Eithne?”

‘Eithne’ abruptly and loudly began to giggle before slapping a hand over her mouth and began furiously studying the gate walls. Her cheeks might have been bright enough to read by.

I frowned self-consciously. Geez… do we really look that ridiculous? Poor woman can’t even look at us.

Jax and Arx both began to stare rather hard at the woman.

The man cleared his throat. From his expression, he seemed more than a little mystified by his counterpart’s reaction. “Right… anyways, there’s gambling over races and other such most nights. Fights, too. But if you want a tournament… I think they do one every few months, right Eithne?”

She nodded at the wall.

“Huh…” The man shrugged before looking back at us… and then slowly downward. “You can uh… you can ask about it there, I guess. There’s an inn nearby. Called uh… called the Righteous Table Leg. Owner’s a fat fellow by the name of uh… Tits.”

As one, all three of us turned to stare at the man. Tits?

Eithne’s gauntleted hand rather smartly clanged against the back of his helmet.

“Ow! What did you do that for?” he asked sourly.

*****

“Ho there! Welcome to the Righteous Table Leg,” the extremely fat man said jovially from behind the bar.

I had never seen anyone like him before. Well… not the fat part. I had seen plenty of people like that. But his skin was faintly tinged blue, and there seemed to be some sort of hard ridge that was running along each of his limbs. It probably would have given him an angular look, except that he was so fat that his flesh was bulging around and over the protrusion. It made him look rather like a stitched together rag doll.

“I am the proud owner and proprietor,” he continued. “The name’s Tiwizz Pimar, but everyone around here just calls me Tips.”

I tilted my head back. “Ah… okay. Tips. That… makes sense.” Way too much sense…

“I think I’m almost flattered,” Arx whispered from behind me. Jax did not comment, though I could see a faint scowl cross her face out of the corner of my eye.

Tips chuckled obliviously, “Right? Because T-P? Most people just assume its because of the jar.” He grabbed a wide clay jar from one side of the bar and gave it a little jiggle causing a few coins to rattle inside. The word ‘tips’ had been scratched into the side. “Tips for Tips, eh?” He laughed uproariously at his own joke.

I smiled obligingly before taking a quick look around.

The place was a very stereotypical fantasy inn setup—pub downstairs with a fireplace in a corner and a set of stairs off to one side leading up to some rooms. The bar was set just above waist height with a series of hard wooden stools around it. Meanwhile, the commons area had a low bench set along the entirety of the wall with several rectangular tables at intervals around it. The rest of the space was filled with even more tables and benches and a few mismatched chairs scattered throughout.

And people, of course. The bar looked to be at about a third of its maximum capacity, and there was a low murmur of conversation droning in the background. Most everyone there was laoi, unsurprisingly. As my gaze swept over the crowd, I did notice quite a few of them averting their eyes. That did not surprise me, either. We had been almost constantly stared at from the moment we walked into town.

Dammit. We seriously need a change of clothes!

“You’re a little early for supper,” Tips informed us, drawing my attention back. “But you can take a seat if you like while you wait. It’ll be… maybe another thirty minutes. Until then, just flag down the wench if you’re thirsty. Her name’s Adja.”

He gestured to indicate the woman who had just emerged from a swinging door that apparently led to a kitchen area. She seemed to be the same race as Tips, with blue skin and bony ridges along her body. She had a narrow waist and wide, if strangely angular, hips. Meanwhile, her modest bust was encased and highlighted by the white and low-cut blouse she was wearing. She was fairly good looking, I decided, despite the alienness.

At the moment, she was carrying a tray heavily laden with an array of ale-filled mugs. However, the moment she laid eyes on us, she jerked as if she had been shot, and the tray gave a dangerous wobble. Hastily, she righted it, before turning back and forth uncertainly. Then, almost in a panic, she fled back into the kitchen.

“Oy! Come back with the beer!” someone yelled.

Tips cleared his throat awkwardly. “Sorry about that. She’s young yet. Questers at your Layers aren’t too common, after all. I’m sure you’re used to it, though.”

At our Layers? The guy talks like we’re some sort of legendary warriors.

“Yes… it does take some adjusting to,” Arx answered, before I could correct the man. Stepping from behind me, she pressed herself into my side. “You might need to have a talk with her, though. Just in case?”

The man’s ever present smile faltered slightly. “Madam, I can assure you that we run a professional establishment.”

“That’s good,” Jax spoke up, though she was studying her claws. “We’ll hold ye to that. We’ll be needing a room. By the week. Private baths, if yer set up fer it. And…” she hesitated briefly as a look of disquiet passed over her face, “and food. Fer one.”

“For one?” Tips repeated uncertainly. “What for? The rest of you staying somewhere else? No need for that! We’ve got plenty of rooms right here, and let no one tell you that there’s a better inn than the Leg for clean sheets and a warm meal.”

So saying, he pointed above and behind him at what looked to be a rather ornate looking wooden club that was mounted on a board. It was asymmetrical in design and had a bit of a flowing sweep to it. Meanwhile, the head of it was squared off, and there were a series of spikes attached. It also had a bit of a soft glow to it, though if it was from some enchantment or other means, I had no idea.

Hmm… I guess that would be the Righteous Table Leg, then.

“Uh… no,” I assured the man finally, “We’ll all be staying here. We just have… uh…”

“We don’t eat very much,” Arx finished for me. “It’s a skill related thing. Useful for taking on the Dungeon.”

The man nodded his complete understanding. “Very wise of you. Very wise. Then, let’s see here…” he paused to tap his fingers thoughtfully on the countertop, apparently doing some mental calculations, “we don’t provide baths, I’m afraid. But there’s a bathhouse over on the Younger side.” He pointed helpfully as he spoke. “Very nice. Very clean. And they do have private rooms, but they’re a little more expensive than the big room.”

His tapping stopped briefly as he looked us over, seemingly to gauge our reactions. Of course, I did not have any idea as to how much an ‘expensive’ bath might be, and I was feeling a little put out at having to walk somewhere just to get cleaned up. So, I was sure that my own face was hovering somewhere between those two rather disparate emotions.

“Hmm… as for the rooms—” he began, but Jax quickly interrupted.

“One room.”

Tips did not react beyond raising an eyebrow slightly, though I was pretty sure I heard someone mutter, “…cky bast…” from behind me.

Yeah… sure buddy. Try walking in my shoes for a day.

“I see…” Tips continued, “In that case… one silver for the week. Uh… that’s Dungeon silver, mind you.”

“A full silver?” Jax repeated incredulously. “Per week?”

Tips shrugged, unconcerned. “That includes all meals whether for one or three, and you each get a beer with it at no extra cost. Plus, we have complementary laundry service…” he hesitated briefly as he looked over our outfits but apparently decided against commenting further.

Jax sighed before glancing at me. I just shrugged. From my own understanding, a Dungeon silver was worth somewhere around four hundred dollars. To be able to stay at an inn for a week with all meals included for that much was quite the bargain to me. Especially considering the added alcohol.

“Dearest,” Arx whispered into my ear, “we should try to be frugal. We may have a good amount of money now, but it could be a very long time until we find another Mouth.”

I nodded my understanding. I doubted we would need to, but by my calculations, with the amount of money we had now, we could probably stay in this inn for about three years. Which was insane to think about, but that was also running off of the foolish assumption that we would not have any other expenses.

We were desperately short of equipment, for one thing. Jax and Arx might not be thrilled at the idea of wearing armor, but I would certainly like some. My defenses were minimal, after all. The only real ability I had in that regard was Forgotten in Stillness, but being forgotten was not the same as being immune to damage. All it would take was a stray arrow or an errant fireball, and I would be done for.

Plus, there was the whole wardrobe issue. I did not need anything fancy, of course, but a decent change of clothes would be nice. And if we ever did go back into the Dungeon, we would probably need a few sets. Experience can be a hard teacher.

Actually, now that I thought about it—and despite the airs we had been putting on—I was still very much on the fence about the prospect of being a full-time Quester. Or more precisely, I was some yards from the fence and giving it a bit of a side-eye. Intentionally throwing myself into danger did not exactly leave me giddy with excitement. However, if I did not at least try to improve my stats, I had a feeling that Ahnbe was going to be less than pleased, and other than killing monsters, there was no way of reliably doing that to my knowledge short of buying more Gems.

And while we were relatively flush, we did not have that kind of cash.

“Alright,” I said before fishing a silver out of the Coin Pouch around my neck and placing it on the counter. “One week for now. We don’t know how long we’ll be in town.”

Tips quickly scooped it into his open palm and smiled, “As you say, sir.” He ducked under the counter for a moment before producing a heavy looking brass key and sliding it over to us. “Your room is on the third floor. Right hand side. Far corner. Same symbol as the key. And uh…” He paused to wink significantly at us, “I think you’ll find the room quite satisfactory.”

I quirked an eyebrow at him curiously.

*****

“Neat,” I said aloud once we had found the room.

The door looked to be made of a heavy and dark wood, so it appeared quite solid. Carved on it were a pair of crossed table legs that were identical in appearance to the one hanging in the bar—minus the glow, of course. The key was etched with the exact same marking, just as Tips had said.

“Kind of a weird theme, I guess, but I like that they’re sticking with it.” We had passed a couple of doors on the way here, and they all had table legs carved into them but in differing numbers and positions.

Arx shrugged indifferently. “I would imagine that the club he’s got down there is some favored weapon he found while Questing. Probably was known for it in certain circles, and now he’s built his inn around it as a tribute.”

“You think so?” I asked as I unlocked the door. “Hmm… that would explain why he was so comfortable around us. Though I wonder why he assumed we were so highly Layered.”

“Because of our Charisma,” Arx explained. “Most people don’t put much into that stat until all the others are so expensive that it’s ridiculous. Even then, the majority would rather save the points for later.”

“Hmph… their loss,” Jax said coolly before stepping into the room ahead of us.

As I trailed in after her, I took a quick look around. It was fairly spacious and if not necessarily well decorated, then abundantly. There were a number of swords and shields mounted on boards, and the walls were covered with faded paintings of heroic darings do. Most of them prominently featured what I assumed to be a much younger version of Tips… or at least a much fitter version. It was hard to tell how old the man was from all the fat, but he only looked to be in his mid-thirties. In fact, now that I thought about it, I had not seen anyone who looked much older than that since arriving in town.

I frowned at the thought. I must have just not been paying attention.

Besides the decorations, there was a dresser pushed into a corner as well as a vanity to one side with an actual mirror. Besides the enchanted one in the Dungeon, it was the first of its kind that I had found on this world. However, the most prominent piece in the room—and likely what Tips had been alluding to with his suggestive comment—was the huge four-poster bed in the center of the room.

Jax began giggling in an almost mad and creepy sort of way as soon as she saw it.

I knew full well what she was thinking, of course. None of us had been afforded the opportunity to make love on an actual bed since our relationship had begun, and I had little doubt that both of my companions were more than eager to sample the experience. However, we were all quite filthy, and I did want to actually sleep on the thing at some point.

So, I plastered a cheeky grin over my face, and in a broad and jovial tone, I announced, “Let’s go find this bathhouse. I’d like to wash the road off before dinner.” With that, I twirled around and marched back out the door.

“But…! But Master!” Jax shouted, chasing after me. “I were promised a spanking!”

If anyone at the inn was courting doubts as to the status of our relationship, they were not now.