The Moon Jar

03 | CHAPTER

MYRA WOKE UP IN a different room, one with much less splendor as the one back in the palace. She scanned the room briefly before pulling the duvet over her head. The room was dark and musty, in the middle she rested on a simple bed. Myra's memories were foggy from the evening before having indulged a bit too much with her new-found friends. She remembered she was on the second floor of that tavern, where they offered rooms for little coin.

Myra let her mind wander off, pondering where she came from and what her real name was. She wondered if she was a good person or not. She contemplated whether it was worth it to mix her new friends with her unusual predicament, or if she should just cut her losses and start a new life here in this city. Her thoughts were cut short by a tapping on her door.

"My dear girl, it is time to wake up." Eyre's voice was soft through the room's entry. It was a stark difference from when he first rapped on her guest chamber door back in the palace. She wondered if he was just trying to impress Detlef the day before.

Myra sat up, calling back, "I'm awake, do come in."

Eyre made his way in, looking more polished than ever. He donned a dark blue satin robe and he smelled of sweet lilac. He invited in a worker of the tavern, a different barmaid from the day previous, as she rushed to get a bath ready for Myra. Eyre shut the door behind him, taking a nod towards the barmaid, "I gave her a generous tip, she'll get you up and running once more."

Myra's heart fluttered at the thought of a bath, "I am forever in your debt."

Eyre smiled, shaking his head at the young woman. He strolled toward her, pulling off the leather bag he had over his shoulder and setting it on the bed next to Myra.

"I hope this attire is okay," Eyre pulled out a stack of neatly folded garments and a pair of new smoky-colored boots. Myra ran her eyes over the pewter cloak, black trousers, and a soft magnolia smock.

"Well, I suppose I am even more than forever in your debt, my friend. How can I repay you?" Myra smiled meekly at the man, knowing she didn't have a single coin to her name.

"My poor girl, you can repay me by helping us find your lost memories, of course!" Eyre laughed, making a waving motion with his hand before retrieving a small vial from the bag. Myra watched it slowly for a beat, realizing it was perfume.

"How very chivalrous, I cannot thank you enough." The maiden felt her face turn warm. She wasn't sure if she was feeling embarrassment or some other unruly emotion.

"Truly, it's the least I can do. It seems our dear Detlef cannot say no to you, which is good for me. You probably remind him of an old friend," Eyre shuffled his hand in the bag a bit before looking at the young woman.

"I remind him of his old annoying cat," Myra chaffed, resting her cheek in her hand and leaning her elbow on her knee.

"Perhaps, perhaps not. Here in Reedshire things are mostly good. Minimal poverty and just about everyone has access to the things they need. It honestly is a good city," Eyre started, taking a seat at the foot of the bed, placing the black leather bag in his lap, "however, not all places are like here. Some places have corrupt politics and people, where you have to look over your shoulder almost always. I'm afraid our dear Detlef is from such a place."

Myra felt her stomach sink a little, but she supposed it made sense as to why he was so stand-offish.

"That being said," Eyre continued, "I wanted you to have these."

The man withdrew a pair of silver stilettos and handed them to her. They were shiny and fit perfectly in her hands. She looked wide-eyed at Eyre, "I have no idea how to wield these," her voice barely over a whisper.