Later that night

The fire has slowed down to burning embers by the time your host Kale finally stumbles off to bed, his speech slurred by the potent ale and the exhaustion of the day's ****. Meanwhile, his wife clears the last of the cups, her cheeks flushed with a heavy, drunken rose. When the house finally falls into a thick, expectant silence, you retreat to the small room they have prepared for you. It is sparsely decorated, but nothing out of place for a guestroom; in fact it is quite a luxurious thing to expect this kind of things for a place like this.

You're about to sleep, when the door opens sloowly. You look up to see Elara standing in the door, carry a candle. Her hair, which was tied up in a bun earlier, is unpinned and cascading over her shoulders. It is obvious why she is there.

"Elara," you say, your voice a low warning in the dark. "You are Kael’s wife. You should be in your own bed."

She pauses, a flicker of genuine guilt crossing her features, but it is quickly smoothed over by a determined, hazy light in her eyes. "Kael knows," she whispers, stepping closer until the scent of fermented grain and warm skin reaches you. "He gave his blessing before he closed his eyes. He is grateful for his life, and he is a man of the village. I was surprised when he chose to offer our hospitality to you, but..." Elara looks at your body, "I must admit, I'm attracted to you to really say no to him, knowing very well what it entails."

"What do you mean?"

Elara put the candle by the bedside and sits on the edge of your pallet. "In these isolated parts, hospitality is not just a meal and a roof. We are few, and the blood runs thin if we keep only to ourselves. To offer one's home to a savior like you is to offer our women. It is how we survive, how we keep the line from withering."

She leans in, her breath hot against your ear. "Your companions... they understood. I saw it in their eyes when the invitations were made. They didn't hesitate to follow the others. If you truly wished to sleep alone, you should have chosen a house with no women, or the home of the old couple. But you chose us."

A small, playful smile returns to her lips, though her hand trembles slightly as she reaches out to trace the line of your jaw. "Then again, if you stayed with them, and later on you decides to go on a night visit... well, there isn't a door in this village that would stay closed for you. I wouldn't be surprise if you get visited too. But you didn't chose those house, and that's why you are here, with me."

She lets her hand slide down to the collar of your tunic, her fingers hooking into the rough wool. "Kael is at peace with it. The village will be stronger for it. And I..." she pauses, her gaze dropping to your mouth, her voice becoming more husky. "I find the idea of a 'merchant' with your strength very pleasurable. Why should we let the night go to waste on sleep?"