Page 41 of A Dark and Drowning Tide

She extended a hand. Lorelei pushed her arm aside and stood on her own. The stung look on Sylvia’s face, she told herself, did not bother her at all.

The inn stood proudly at the end of the road. It was by far the largest building in town, with a quaint, overgrown yard and a wooden fence that had seen better days. Lorelei and Johann both had to duck beneath the low doorframe as they entered.

It looked to be lifted straight from an Albisch woodblock print. The white walls behind the bar were cluttered with portraits of saints, paintings of cows, an impressive collection of cuckoo clocks, and no fewer than five sets of antlers, small enough that Lorelei surmised they belonged to a family of rasselbocken.

Townsfolk clustered around tables near a roaring fire, chattering over glass mugs of ale and plates filled with beets and headcheese. Conversations slowed as people did their best to pretend they weren’t staring. Most of them, Lorelei realized after a moment, were eyeing Sylvia as though they were trying to place her.

They were greeted by a middle-aged womanwho—afterwhat Lorelei thought an excessive amount of bowing andscraping—introducedherself as Emilia.

“Come in, come in, my lords! I wish I’d known you were coming. I would have had the kitchens prepare better for your arrival.” When her starry eyes landed on Lorelei, her smile faltered, as if she’d just noticed a snag in an otherwise perfect tapestry. “What can I do for you?”

“Lodging for the night,” said Lorelei.

Emilia recoiled. “Oh.”

Oh, she thought.So it begins.

She appealed to Johann first. “The Yeva won’t be able to stay.”

Lorelei bit down on a retort. She had tried for years to scrub the accent off, but it was impossible to do itperfectly—especiallywhen she had gotten carelessly comfortable in Ruhigburg.

“What would you like me to do with her?” Johann asked, clearly amused. “Put her in the stables?”

Sylvia, who still had not fully recovered from the encounter with the lindworm, underwent a sudden and glorious transformation. She smiled, bright enough to dazzle, as she stepped forward and took Emilia’s hands in her own. “No intervention will be necessary! I assure you, she won’t cause any trouble.”

“You can’t promise that, milady, as much as you’d like to. They’re a scheming type.”

“Regardless, she stays with us. She is a valued companion.”

Emilia looked as disgusted as Lorelei felt. Still, it surprised Lorelei to hear Sylvia express such a sentiment. Perhaps Sylvia was not as horrid a liar as she’d once believed.

Sylvia’s expression grew resigned. “If I may be so bold as to introduce myself, my name is Sylvia von Wolff,and—”

Emilia gasped, stumbling back a few steps. “My sincerest apologies! I didn’t recognize you, Mondscheinprinzessin.”

Moonlight Princess?Lorelei made a mental note to mock her for it later. Heike coughed to cover a laugh.

“Please, there is no need for formalities.” Sylvia laughed uneasily. She lowered her voice, as though she did not want anyone else to overhear. “Allow me to apologize for catching you so off guard. We were waylaid by a lindworm on our travels. Johann here has dealt with it, buttragically—”

Emilia’s voice flattened. “You killed it?”

“Did you want it alive?” asked Ludwig.

“No, milord.” Emilia looked ready to throw herself at Johann’s feet. “No. It’s been picking off our sheep for months.”

She turned toward the room and addressed the smallcrowd—presumablyin Brunnisch, although now that she wasn’t articulating fortheir benefit, Lorelei could not make out a single word she said. How hard Sylvia must have worked to make herself understood; these days, Lorelei barely detected her accent.

There was a beat of silence. Then, a cheer went up. They hoisted their glasses in the air, sloshing beer and froth onto the floor. Johann looked as though he wanted to disappear.

“Please, stay as long as you wish,” Emilia said. “We must thank you properly.”

“That won’t be necessary,” he said.

“I insist.” She smiled at him knowingly. “I know it is provincial compared to what you’re used to, but the Feast Day of Saint Bruno is tomorrow. There will be a festival in his honor.”

“How lovely,” Sylvia said brightly. “We would be honored to stay with you.”

“Von Wolff,” Lorelei said thinly. “With all due respect, we do not have time for this.”