In the meantime, Chris was having his own rough night: not only was his phone reception dead, so he couldn't even call his mother, who no doubt was about to notify the entire police force, but since the inn was filled to the brim, him, Winter and Ian had to make do with one single room. Its sleeping accommodations presented themselves in the face of one small bed and a fold-out sofa. The problem around this mainly came from the fact that Ian had stated that if he was going to share a small bed, he would only agree on Winter being his companion.

“We’ve shared a tent, Ian!”

“That is hardly the same! I should be with the one I was promised to!”

“Promised to her? If she takes you! And why do you even assume you’ll be sleeping on the bed in the first place?”

“I am undoubtedly a much better candidate than a Hach who can’t even hold a sword inupright!”

Chris felt heat climb from the tip of his nose. “The word is ‘upright’, you dolt! Besides, candidate for what, sleeping? Oh, yes, that’s very difficult!”

“You are aware of what I was referring to, Hach!”

“You don't even like girls!”

“Irrelevant!”

“Could you not interrupt me for one stinking second?”

“That’s enough!” Winter closed her eyes and took a breath. “Listen well: no one here is to decide what I will or will not do in a few years regarding some long-forgotten family arrangement and certainly not where I will be sleeping tonight! This is what we are going to do…”

The sound of a blunt crash cut her off.