Skandra was fairly certain he managed a passable agreement to her strange story. Selling a lie was as much about the lie as it was about how much information you gave. A wife, for instance, wouldn't talk as much about the husband. She would simply ask for one room. Maybe a throwaway question about checking to make sure something was contained in her saddlebags. Something to hint at it, something natural, not their entire goddamn life story in the time it took to rent out a room. Aeotha wasn't practiced at deception, no. But if someone came to this desk and asked after a pair matching their descriptions then they were going to be incredibly memorable. The hall ran the length of the inn's back wall, with a break halfway down for the common room. Odd that it wasn't directly off the office, but perhaps they didn't want people just - ah, a door from the outside, in the side of the building.
Skandra scanned the occupants of the room out of habit. A very pretty woman lingered against the hearth with a mug and a pair of pouting lips. She wore a sword, though it was cleverly concealed beneath a cloak that concealed little else. He wondered idly if she enjoyed playing cards - or watching a man play cards. Probably not. A trio of hunters were trading stories about this beast, that beast, at one of the pair of tables. Other than that it appeared only staff was present; they were reclining in a pair of well-cushioned chairs and discussing whatever it was that staff of an inn in the middle of nowhere discussed. Well-appointed, the common room. Warm with hard wood floors recently finished, rugs of every kind, well-lit and easy. Aeotha stared straight ahead and never once glanced, as though she didn't want to think of where she was.
"Does this mean you've forgiven me, darling?" Skandra asked lightly.
The look Aeotha shot him was pure murder.
When they ascended the stairs Skandra glared at nothing in particular. If Aeotha was going to be this moody, he didn't want to deal with her. Their room was at the very end of the hall, in the back of the inn, and it was a testament to the owner that even this dark corner was illuminated easily.
Grimacing at the door, he pulled his arm away from her as soon as they were out of sight.
"These saddlebags aren't exactly light, you know," Skandra told her in annoyance. "So if you could open the damn door..."
Women.
Maybe he was just angry that he'd be sleeping on the floor.