She nodded and stepped aside for her fellow Easterner to slip into the dark room. Larel and Fritz stared at him red-eyed and squinting but didn’t question.

“I thought you two might be here.” He shook his head in amusement. “I brought water for each of you and some potion that’ll help with your heads. I managed to find some before they were all gone.”

“And man’nik.” Larel was on her feet, headed for the tray. She grabbed a steaming bun, biting into it ravenously.

“That.” Daniel didn’t even try to pronounce the name of the Western food. He glanced at Vhalla’s confused face. “It’s filled with meat.”

“Eat one, Vhalla.” Larel shoved one into her hands, grabbing for the water.

“Thank you, Daniel,” Vhalla said sincerely, downing the potion and chasing the taste with water.

“It was my suggestion to go out last night.” He grinned as Fritz dragged his feet over. “And I could tell none of you were really used to that type of affair.”

“And you are?” Fritz took his share of Daniel’s gifts.

“Not really.” Daniel chuckled. “We’re going out for a quieter night tonight, if you’d all like to join.”

“No alcohol,” Larel mumbled.

“No alcohol,” he confirmed. “I’ll be back around dusk. We’re all meeting in the lobby downstairs.” Daniel started for the door.

“Where are you going now?” Vhalla asked.

Daniel paused, his gaze questioning. “I thought I’d go to the main market today.”

“Can I come with you?” She wasn’t sure what overtook her in that moment.

“I don’t mind if you come along.” Daniel flashed her a toothy smile, and Vhalla found herself unable to stop herself from smiling back.

“I need to change ...” Vhalla pinched her rumpled clothes, catching a whiff of herself. She felt as gross as she smelled from dancing last night. “And bathe.”

“I’ll wait downstairs,” he said, opening the door. “Take your time.”

“Daniel, huh?” Fritz gave an appraising hum.

“What?” Vhalla asked, defensive.

“Nothing, just a shame he doesn’t seem interested in boys. The march is long,” Fritz sniggered.

“Oh quiet.” Larel shook her head at Fritz. “You have someone.”

“You do?” Vhalla blinked. The Southerner seemed so intent on finding men all night.

“Not really ...” Fritz was more uncomfortable than Vhalla had ever seen him.

“Grahm, it’s Grahm.” Larel rolled her eyes.

“Grahm?” Vhalla remembered the Eastern man Fritz was rarely seen without in the Tower. How they’d sit, thighs touching, shoulders brushing. “You and Grahm?”

“It’s nothing official, I don’t know ...” The scarlet on Fritz’s cheeks told Vhalla everything she needed to know. Whatever was “not official” about them wouldn’t be that way for long when Fritz returned.

“If you’re going to the market, you’ll need these.” Larel tapped three golden coins on the dresser.