After bathing, he dressed. Not in his traveling clothes, but in the fine tailored garments that spoke of wealth. He wanted to look the part of a wealthy patron, someone who belonged in Mara's hidden chamber.
He ate expensive foods—ordering the finest dishes the inn's kitchen could produce. He drank expensive wine, allowing himself to enjoy the luxury of this world's finest offerings.
Finally, as the ninth bell of the evening tolled through the city, Julian stood before the mirror in his room, adjusting his collar one last time. He looked every inch the wealthy VIP.
It was time to visit Mara.
Julian left his room and made his way through the now-quiet corridors of the inn. Most guests had retired for the evening or were enjoying entertainment in the common rooms below. The third floor was nearly deserted as he navigated the familiar path toward the hidden passages Mara had shown him.
