This place was absolutely beautiful. Iestyn couldn't stop looking around at the leaves turning gold and the water running crisp and cool in the river, and the beautiful old buildings everywhere. Okay, it was kind of touristy in places, but it was in a good kind of way, retaining the historic aesthetic.
Knowing this place was supposed to be where Henry would have gone to regroup, the sanctuary he never got to go to, was also good, in a way. And getting to experience it together now. Instead of lying miserably in bed, they were out here, experiencing the beauty of the world. Iestyn held tightly to Henry's hand, not giving him a chance to be ripped away from him. Just in case.
"Maybe," he said, looking at the bridge, tilting his head slightly. He'd read the iconic horror story in the week leading up to here, just to be well versed in the aesthetic of the town, but he didn't remember all the details. "How many bridges are there?"