Zariya glanced at her son, folding her arms.

“I’m done with all the chores. Can I go out to play?” Essam asked with pleading eyes.

She checked to make sure that everything was done in order, giving a round to the arranged tables and chairs. He needed to learn, and to take care of himself. Zariya wished she could, but with her needing to take care of the inn, she could not focus her attention.

“Yes, be sure to return by sundown. And stay in the street.” She told him, sternly.

Essam was a vibrant child, eager to play and willing to shake it off, nodded at his mother’s words. He learned she was serious. Despite all the whispers that she heard, but he never minded it.

“Of course, Ummi.” He closed the door with a friend of his.

Magdi and his mother, Menna, with a smile. She never judged, continuing to be kind to her.

She could feel grateful, hidden behind her veil, and her kind eyes. She was a good weaver and worked to supplement the meager income of her husband. There were rugs commissioned, and Zariya sold them to her friends.

She had remained sympathetic to her despite it all, and a good confidant and friend. He worked, but was never stable.

Then, once they left, she was alone. The day passed by with not much; it happened sometimes. She leaned back a little, mostly ensuring the kitchens were cooking and the regulars. Helping to supervise the upper levels, ensuring that the rooms remained clean.

She looked at a rat at her counter, chasing it out of the place. Her eye always at the door; no one was coming. It was another slow day.

She took out her accounts, at the afternoon, having to read. Now it was hot, and better to remain inside. Her son was probably by the stream, playing with a few friends.

They had a lot of visitors every year, but there were dry periods too. Though this period was the most profitable because of plenty of traveling across the entire country. Demand would drop during the spring and summer as the ideal period to travel dropped, as it was hot.

During that time, most who came were for business.

She heard the door open, and she looked up, eager to have business. This was her first in a day.

It was a woman, dressed in the fashion right across the sea. It was a gown with a high-waist, although she had worn a simple scarf over her hair inside the inn. Her hair was a dark red as she could see.

Zariya had seen it once or twice, but she had seen this for the first time, but her eyes were as dark as hers.

“I’ll like a room.” She put her money on the table, her voice soft. She spoke in a practiced but unfamiliar phrase.

Zariya looked at her, taking up the money. She wouldn’t judge. If she needed help, Zariya would give her a shelter. Judging by the coin, she was much more wealthy. But most would have wondered why, and thought that she would likely offer clandestine services.

“Is this all the money you have?” She asked.

“Just tell me how long I can remain here,” she said, wary.

“You can stay here for a month.” She answered, placing the key before her, being courteous, perhaps wanting to give her the benefit of the doubt.

A woman needed shelter more, and if she could afford it, Zariya did not deny her.

So many had done the same for her, to the point she tired of it. But the truth could be far from the rumors.

Pompeia gave a smile of relief. She took the keys. “Thanks, I wasn’t sure.”

“How many inns did you go before them?” She asked, looking at her.

“This is the third inn that I went to.” She let out a simple sigh.

Zariya knew she was foreign, and things were hard for her.

“Has it been hard?” She asked, wanting to talk more than a friend and a guide. The woman looked like she needed it.

“It’s not by choice.” But she looked up. “But it’s hard, but life continues.”

Zariya knew it too. Sometimes, they were blamed for the failures of a marriage, sometimes even for the failings of their husbands. But they often had so little say in it. “Well, it also includes food.”

The woman had clear hands as much as he did. It didn’t look like a woman who had learned much hard labour in her life. She picked up her hands before she went inside the room.

Zariya kept the money as she watched. Inside, she felt good about her decision. Even if she was wrong, she would not regret it. So far, she doubted the woman was going to bring her any trouble.