Good thing the elves had plenty of money; otherwise, besides the shattered glass of reality floating overhead that only I could see, we’d have been sleeping outside like glorified vagrants. Luckily, solving their little Vampire problem paid well enough.

  “So, seven rooms, water for the rooms, dinner, and… a private bath?” the clerk asked, visibly confused.

  “Private toilets, yes,” I corrected proudly, thinking of the beautiful inn I’d spotted from afar as we entered town.

  “Uh, Your Grace,” Enna whispered into my ear, “No inn in this place has such a thing.”

  “Wait, what?” I blinked at her, then at the clerk, then back at her again. “No toilet?”

  “No toilet… sir.”

  God fucking damnit.

  “Then… may I kindly ask where I’m supposed to handle my humane business?” I asked with a pleasant smile.

  Apparently, a terrifying smile that seemed to send shivers down her spine, because the clerk took a step back.

  “T-There are buckets in the room.”

  “Buckets?” I repeated, eyes wide.

  Brilliant. My favorite pastime: slowly inhaling my own toxins while I sleep.

  “Fine…” I sighed, watching the poor woman nearly cry. “How much will all that be?”

  She scrambled behind her desk and stammered, “S-seven crowns for the bedrooms, three and a half… let’s make it three for the dinner. Total of ten crowns.”

  What in God's name is a crown?

  I turned to Stevin and Enna with a look that said everything.

  With a pained exhale, Stevin stepped forward, fished out his coin pouch, and placed two silver coins on the counter.

  “Here you go,” he said pleasantly.

  The clerk inspected them, nodded, and quickly slid seven keys toward us, eager to remove me from her personal space. She rattled off the dining hours and the layout of the second floor, where our rooms awaited.

  Finally. A glorious sleep in a glorious bed.

  ...

  I had hay in my bed.

  Was I a fucking cow perchance? Had no one told me?

  How can a few planks of barely standing rotten wood and a pile of dried grass be considered a bed?

  How can such an insult to the concept of sleeping furniture possibly offer me the glorious rest I had so much desired?

  I felt like crying as if I were a child who just dropped his ice cream, feeling my blood-filled tears swelling at the corners of my eyes. This had to be a crime against humanity somehow.

  But just as I was about to tell Relia not to pay attention to my mental breakdown, someone knocked at my door before it casually opened, revealing Stevin’s stupid grin.

  “Your Grace, I came to… everything all right?” he asked, his grin turning into a worried look as he, for the first time in his life, saw a man cry tears of blood for a stack of hay dressed as a bed.

  “What do you want?” I sniffed, “I am busy.”

  “Clearly,” he muttered, closing the door, “Apologies, but it seemed you weren’t aware of the coinage, and I was wondering if you want me to explain that as well.”

  Fair point, poor timing, but sure, why not?

  “Go ahead,” I sighed, wiping away a tear and smearing blood across my cheek, “Best to understand the economy as soon as possible.”

  Stevin nodded, pulling out his own coin purse again and taking five different coins out, placing them on the chairless table nearby.

  Why a table had no chairs was beyond me. Maybe sitting was illegal, wanting you to enjoy the five-star experience of having hay impale your ass while you slept.

  But Stevin leaned forward and pushed the smallest coin toward me, a dull brass circular thing.

  “This is one crown,” he began, turning toward me, “Made of orichalcum.”

  Stolen novel; please report.

  Brother, that is brass. But sure. Let’s call it fantasy metal.

  “They usually have an inscription in the middle with the year they were minted and the ruler of that time, but over a long time of usage, it disappears,” he continued, eyes turning toward me to check if I understood.

  With a nod from me, he then pushed a bigger coin forward, “The bronze coin is two crowns, has the First Queen’s face inscribed on it. See?”

  “Mhm,” I nodded, following along just fine, pushing him forward to get through with this.

  There were two silver coins, each in a different shape and size: the circular one, bearing the face of the Second Queen, was worth five crowns, while the heftier square one, marked with the Third Queen’s face, was worth twenty-five.

  As for the obsession with putting faces on metal, your guess was as good as mine.

  “And this gold coin is worth one hundred crowns each,” Stevin concluded, a prideful smile on his face as he pushed the coin forward, “And holds the face of the King himself.”

  So, thinking this through, comparing the prices from back on Earth to the prices here meant that the one crown was more or less ten whole bucks.

  “But wait, the woman said three and a half crowns,” I pointed out, only to see Stevin take the brass coin and break it in two.

  “Half a crown,” he grinned, holding up one of the pieces.

  Ignoring the utterly ridiculous strength required to break metal like a cracker, everything suddenly made sense.

  No wonder the bed was an abomination. Ten bucks for a whole room? Honestly, not terrible. And at least I could lock the door and not worry about… whatever might wander in while I slept in this place.

  “I’ve still got questions, but those can wait,” I said, happy that the lesson was over. “Now go and prepare for dinner, I have things to take care of.”

  He nodded and bowed lightly before placing his coins back in the purse and walking off, while greeting me with the same calm composure that made one think he wasn’t worried about his situation.

  It was incredible to see the sheer mental strength Stevin showed off, while I felt like crying over a hay-made bed, but fortunately, no man is the same; so… forgive me while I go weep my sadness away.

  “...Close your eyes, Relia,” I muttered, watching a small strand of hay fly off from the bed on the ground as Stevin closed the door behind him.

  But as much as I told myself I was crying because of the bed, I knew that was bullshit. I slept on a stone floor days ago; hay was practically a luxury compared to that.

  What I was really weeping for was the situation I was in… and what stood above me.

  That shattered veil was a fragment of the Broken Laws Ephe had spoken about, and apparently, I was the one meant to understand it, find its cause, and somehow fix it. Which meant that the quest to bring Julia back had just skyrocketed in difficulty a hundredfold, and I had no idea what the hell I was supposed to do or where to begin.

  If this one was labeled ‘Fracture 7-A,’ then at least six more, probably with their own annoying subdivisions, were waiting in line for me. Making me only wonder how many layers of bullshit stood between my wife and me?

  Was it really too much to hope things might start getting easier? Was it too much to hope that all I’d survived so far was the hard part of all this? Apparently, yes.

  I tried reasoning with Ephe, hoping she’d show a sliver of sympathy or at least common sense, but she didn’t. She ignored me, as she always did when things actually mattered.

  So either I cried now, got it out, cleared my head of all the anger and frustration I was feeling, so that I could somehow focus on what needed doing… or just jump off the nearest building again and prayed that solved something.

  But since it didn’t do shit the first time, it sure as hell wouldn’t do shit now, other than add more agony to my already stellar stay in this world.

  After ignoring Relia’s attempts at consoling me, washing the blood off my face, and meeting with the others after I calmed down, we went and had dinner. The only good thing about all this.

  Warm lamb stew, stale bread, and cooled boiled water. A pretty decent meal to end the day with. With my stomach somewhat full, my heart empty, and exhaustion tugging at my eyelids, I bid good night to the others still caught up in their conversations downstairs and climbed to my room alone.

  I placed my coat between myself and the hay below, then reached for the bucket of water and the nearby strips of cloth, planning to wash, before I remembered the very reason I hadn’t used the empty bucket in my room until now in the first place.

  “Oh my,” Relia chuckled, turning back into her physical form as her shadow left my back, “With me in here?”

  “Can you just turn around and pretend you have something else to do?” I sighed, not even turning toward her.

  “After all that crying, I was worried you turned soft,” she taunted, walking toward the nearby, before suddenly turning serious. “What is wrong, Your Grace? You have aided me. If there is something I can do for you, please tell me, and I will do it. I am quite strong, you know?”

  “There is, actually,” I said, matter-of-factly, turning my head just enough to side-eye her, “Find something to busy yourself with while I wipe away my body and piss. Once I am asleep, have fun sucking whatever you need to and go back to sleep.”

  She licked her lips and nodded sharply. “Then I will take you up on your offer, Your Grace. Do forgive me if you wake up because of it.”

  “I won’t,” I sighed, turning back toward the bucket and undoing my shirt, “I am exhausted enough not to care.”

  “Even more perfect,” she clapped her hands joyfully as she walked off toward the bed, acting as if I had promised her a trip to Japan or something.

  The good thing is that at least Relia seemed to have gotten better after having my blood as meals, and hiding from the harsh sun inside my clothes.

  Meaning that, at the very least, the Cataclysmic Vampire I wore as a keychain was on my side, making me the safest person in this town as long as she was in a good mood, but also at the epicenter of the Cataclysm itself if her mood soured.

  Which… also meant that I would somehow have to keep her mood up until she recovered and decided to fly off back the way she came.

  With my poor excuse for a bath finished, I carried the bucket out onto the small balcony so the smell wouldn’t linger, then washed myself again, still feeling unclean.

  After I sent Relia off the bed and collapsed onto it, closing my eyes and ignoring the itch of the hay, sleep finally claimed me.

  I had strange dreams that night, memories of the spicy nights I’d shared with Julia, making it one of the first dreams I’d clearly remembered since her passing.

  When morning came, my eyes opened again… unfortunately.

  It was tempting to fall back asleep and return to those dreams, but a knock at the door told me that my time with my wife had run out. Again.

  I sighed, made sure Relia’s shadowy form was hidden among my clothes, and opened the door to see what this new day had in store for me. Hopefully something good.

  “Good morning, Your Grace,” Enna said, uncertain whether she should even be here. “Can we talk?”

  Yep. Nothing good in sight.

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