Morning arrived at the inn the way it usually did — slow, golden light filtering through windows that had seen better decades, the smell of something Eva was attempting to cook drifting faintly from the kitchen, and the persistent, low-grade chaos of a household that had apparently gained a much larger mushroom person overnight.
Aaron woke to find Alyssa already up, sitting cross-legged on the floor at the foot of the bed, staring intently at her own hands like she expected them to do something interesting if she watched closely enough.
"Morning," he said, voice still rough with sleep.
"Morning, Sir Aaron!" She looked up immediately, abandoning her hand-study with the easy attention span of someone who found nearly everything equally fascinating. "I did not grow more in the night. I checked."
"Good. That's good news."
