Chapter 82: Eighty-Second

The path back to the room wasn't particularly long and winding, but she was tired enough that it certainly felt like it. She appreciated the ability to simply lean on Merwyn and stifle her yawns with the back of her hand as they walked.

Not like she wouldn't have made it back without collapsing had she gone on her own, obviously...

But she wasn't about to complain about being able to lean on a handsome man who smelled...

Nice.

Merwyn always smelled nice in a way that was hard to define - partly because he changed so sharply so often.

At the moment....

He smelled a little bit like cinnamon spices. Something sharp and prickly but sweet. And vanilla. Like a bakery.

She didn't know whether to sneeze or drool, given how the smell seemed to tickle her nose and throat when she was leaning so closely up against Merwyn while they walked.