from here to kingdom come
Carolina thanked the porter at the inn for helping her with her things, but couldn't help the feeling that something was wrong. She knew about the Witchstorm that had shaken everything to her core. It hadn't harmed her, but she had heard rumors that many in Little Terreille and Glacia and Askavi were dead, and that things just might be worse in Terreille. The idea was chilling, and it had driven her away from the safety of Nharkava and back to Goth.
Her grandfather was dead. She'd known that; he'd died some months before the Witchstorm. But with his death, apparently the family's financial security had somewhat faltered. Arnora was still in Nharkava, with their eldest sister, but Carolina had finally just left. She couldn't stay.
But she found herself without the family home that she'd been expecting to reopen (there was uncertainty about ownership, since it seemed to have been seized by an investment firm upon her grandfather's death when it had been left to Carolina and her sisters. Until the legalities were sorted out, and because of the witchstorm it could be months, she would have to find a different place to stay.
The inn would do for the night.
She stepped inside and huffed a bit of a sigh. "Excuse me," she said aloud. "I would like to rent a room for two nights." It would hopefully give her time to arrange to lease a townhouse or apartments somewhere in the city." She paid the witch up front and hated how eyes followed her as she moved through the main room. She was dressed as an aristo lady should be, and they mistrusted her for it.
Strange. Very strange. She changed clothes and brushed her hair before knowing she needed a meal. She chose not to eat in the inn's dining room, and instead stepped out onto the street. Her grandfather would have been appalled that she, a young lady of consequence, would be out and about without an escort. Still, she had none.