The Super Room is actually one of two.
Located on the second floor, these two rooms are the cream of the crop inside Ye Ole Castle House Hotel. Fantastically large and probably meant for families with big budgets or as a homey honeymoon getaway (none of them missed the carefully placed wedding service pamphlet on the counter—sans maybe Áesta), both rooms are situated across from each other after you walk down the entire hallway.
Which is lined with three other doors on either side; meaning they must have 8 rooms.
The hallway, itself, is a dark gray—the same signature slate gray of the establishment—as are all the doors. Golden numbers are bolted to the entryways reading: S1, S2, S3, D1, D2, T1, SR1, and SR2. Interestingly, based on the layout of both floors—mainly where the rather stealthy stairs had been hiding along the wall farthest from the door and painted royal blue like everything else so even the railing blended in—S1-S3, which Jarl thinks are the single rooms, are probably the rooms with the windows facing the street; while what he can only assume are the double rooms and the triple room are facing the farming landscape.
More interestingly: their room—SR1—is the Super in line with the row of single rooms.
So, it, too, faces the street; in fact, it boast a very familiar set of large windows.
~
The reason why it’s called the Super Room becomes obvious after the small group steps in.
There’s a long wall adjacent to the door covered in a mural of faux tiles (they’re made of leather, Jarl notes, not any kind of stone) painting a pixelated scene of moonlit waterfalls. A sconce sits where the center tile forming the moon would; its discreet form implying an artificial moonlit dinner (or… other late night things) would be very possible here even if the renters’ special day happened to fall on a natural new moon.
Although, Jarl would—personally—prefer a painting.
On the other adjacent wall is a small closet with a mirrored door followed by another door for the bathroom. It’s open, allowing them to see a small corridor (accommodating the closet) opening up into a double sink cabinet with a large mirror hung over it. The slab of treated glass reflects a jacuzzi tucked behind the closet (which Manus quietly squeals at) and the somewhat oddly placed toilet between them both.
Not that Jarl hasn’t seen odder placed loos.
Beyond the doors and mosaic is a small table with two chairs on either side of it. They sit under the windows which, from the outside, sit under the Ye Ole Castle House Hotel sign. Golden, filigree, floor-length curtains match the golden signs found throughout the hotel as well as frame the windows and the seating area.
They stand out in brilliant contrast with everything else (slate grey and royal blue) but the mural.
And the king sized bed.
~
“SWEET!”
Manus launches himself at aforementioned bed, declaring himself king of the group, as he usually does. But, this time, he does it without dropping his bag (which he probably somehow forgot about), causing it to follow and land right on his back.
“Ow!”
He groans as Áesta laughs and Jarl shakes his head. Britta, who’d been double checking the bathroom’s stock of things like towels, soaps, and toothpaste, rushes over to check on him in a wholesomely mothering way that seems to resonate surprisingly well with the downed mage.
He calls her sister as he assures her he’s fine.
(Interesting…)
It takes them a few moments to assure her but, eventually, they manage to get her to trust that Manus is fine and let them settle into the room on their own. She promises to bring them tea and coffee in a half hour which Jarl literally and figuratively blesses her for. She just laughs and coos as he waves and closes the door.
“Careful there, priesty boy, or she’ll think you’re flirting with her,” Manus teases from his sprawl on the bed.
Jarl just rolls his eyes at him. “She won’t because—thanks to YOU—she thinks I’m…” he pauses, face warm, “WITH Áesta.” He scowls through his blush, fighting it off, as the mage giggles at him in amusement.
The daemon, however, frowns, “Ye make t’at sound BAD.”
“Isn’t it?” the out-of-town holy man asks, frowning, too. He looks uncomfortable. “I mean: it’s not true!”
“So?” Áesta asks, pout beginning to form; “It’ll keep ‘er from flirtin’ wit’ ye.”
“So will me being a priest.”
~
“Jarl just doesn’t like lying to people.”
Manus’ voice cuts through the sudden tense silence that settled over the small group, saying what he won’t. Jarl nods in response, indicating that the mage is right, while Áesta huffs and lets his pout fully form.
This, it seems, makes Manus smirk, “And Áesta’s possessive~”
“W-what???” Jarl feels warm again as he looks between the pouting daemon and smirking magician.
Manus just rolls his eyes, “Remember we told you that flirting can feed Áesta?”
The priest slowly nods, recalling that particular conversation. It seems like forever ago but was barely a week; and that conversation was really the cornerstone of this whole endeavor: made it all possible.
More so than Jarl summoning the daemon in the first place.
“… Yes…” The priest still shrugs, not following: “So what?”
“Why would he like you feeding someone else?”
(Ah…) That… makes sense…
~
“… Sorry.”
Áesta blinks up at the holy man, surprised. He expected the human to understand after it was explained, sure; and maybe even expected that he’d grow more allowing of flirting in the future (which he already was since he let Áesta hang off his arm on the way here); but an apology? That was so much more.
The daemon smiles happily back, nodding that everything’s fine.
Jarl smiles back, glad to be forgiven.
(He keeps this in the back of his mind, that sometimes he’ll have to play along with their jibes to feed Áesta. He also keeps back there, in some dark corner beneath an opaque blanket, how EASILY the daemon forgives.)
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