Adrien had to bend a little to pass through the door. The inside of the tavern was small, old, dim and battered; it had a few wooden tables with mismatched chairs, some of them bare and some of them decorated with embroidered cushions. The walls were lined with glasses, jars and bottles containing different amounts of spirits, but all looking like they were only seldom touched. Everything smelled like old rose perfume.

Adrien, the only customer at that time, waited in front of the counter as the lady cheerfully poured him a large glass of cold water. "Have you been traveling for long, dear?".