Hearing the name of the most prestigious establishment in the commercial district, Mary's breath hitched in her throat, her hands flying to her mouth in sheer horror. "The—The Golden Pavilion?!" she stammered, her mature heart hammering against her ribs. "Ethan, no... this is far too much! An executive suite in a place like this costs an absolute fortune in medium-grade stones! We cannot possibly afford to stay here, we should find a cheaper alley—"
"Do not worry about the currency, Sister Mary," Ethan interrupted, his lips curling into a smooth, thoroughly relaxed smile that radiated effortless wealth. "The rooms are already fully paid for. Your only duty tonight is to rest, heal, and leave the outside world to me."
He stepped back slightly, gesturing toward the open connecting door. "Your suite is right through there. It is entirely private, and the beds are lined with high-grade silk. You will be comfortable."
