A warm fire roared in the simple stone harth. Isaac's clothes were scattered about the room, hanging from anything he could find that might help them dry faster. Issac himself sat on the hard, narrow bed in the room. He was dressed in a pair of borrowed trousers and a richly made white shirt with ruffles at the neck and cuffs. The inn-keeper said they were left behind by some patron or other.
The woman in the brown dress had fussed over his party until they were all settled in plain, but comfortable rooms. She insisted on warm bathes for all and even fed them an exceptional dinner of game hen, dressing and warm spiced wine.
Issac was so deep in thought he didn't realize he had laid down. Everything at Evalyn's Sorrow seemed a contradiction. The sign outside nagged at him. The inn keeper moved with ease and vigor that did not suit her age, and she spoke with an educated precision that did not match her station. She was alone, yet she had prepared the exquisite meal, and provided warm water for bathes for everyone in the party at conceivably the same time. Not to mention the clothes. There was something else too...something he couldn't quite place.
Isaac was still running over oddities when a voice called to him.
"Lord Isaac, please help me."
A woman stood at the foot of his bed. She wore a sunny yellow silk dress cut in a fashion Isaac had never seen. A matching silk belt cinched her tiny waist and emphasized her firm, full bosom. Her skin was ivory, but there was color in the bow of her lip and her high-boned cheeks. Long auburn hair hung in unbound waves that were pinned in the front, but tumbled down her back to her waist. Issac couldn't break contact with her large dark eyes. They were beautiful eyes, framed with dark lashes, but it was the desperation in them that called to him.
"Isaac, you are my only hope," she said reaching her hand toward him. "Oh no. No! Nooooooo...."
Isaac sat up with force, smashing his head against the wall behind him in the process. The room was empty. Had he fallen asleep?