Kasmer and Nasser sat at a corner table in the bustling common room of the inn, the morning sun spilling through the tall windows in golden slants. The scent of fresh bread mingled with the sharper aroma of fried eggs and sausages, but it did little to improve Nasser's mood.
"I still can't believe Matthias thought we'd tolerate sleeping behind a workshop," Nasser muttered, jabbing his fork into a boiled potato like it had personally offended him. "The soot, the smoke, the rats. I'm a merchant, not a blacksmith's apprentice."
Kasmer chuckled.
Matthias felt humiliated by Nasser's endless complaints. In the end, he agreed that the room behind the workshop was indeed not suitable for the two merchants, so he arranged for them to transfer to an inn that was the nearest to the Norse estate.
