← Chapter 7: The Crossroads Inn | 📖 Series Index | Chapter 9: Trials of Belonging →
The Crossroads Inn’s common room envelops me like a living thing, thick with pipe smoke and the mingled aromas of roasted meat, ale, and the sweat of travelers fresh from the road. Conversations weave through the air in a dozen different languages and accents, a rough clamor of road-worn voices that makes Millhaven feel very quiet and very far away.
I stand just inside the doorway, acutely aware of how my height makes me tower over most of the room’s occupants. The blue dress that had felt like armor this morning now seems foolishly ceremonial among the practical leathers and weathered cloaks of genuine adventurers. My mother’s belt provides some comfort, but I can’t shake the feeling that everyone can see exactly what I am—a village girl playing at being something she’s never proven herself capable of becoming.
The inn’s design accommodates travelers of various sizes with remarkable ingenuity. Tables of different heights cluster throughout the space, some clearly built for humans, others sized for larger folk like myself. Reinforced chairs sit alongside delicate stools, and the ceiling soars high enough that even I can stand comfortably without ducking. Someone had put considerable thought into making all manner of beings feel welcome here.
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