The receptionist handed them two ornate keys, each attached to a golden tag with the room numbers etched in elegant script. "Enjoy your stay," she said sweetly. "If you need anything, don't hesitate to ask."

As the trio climbed the spiral staircase to the upper floors, the grandeur of the hotel became even more apparent. The walls were adorned with intricate tapestries depicting idyllic scenes of rolling hills and sparkling lakes, and the bannisters were carved from dark wood polished to a gleam. Yet, beneath all the opulence, there was a strange unease.

"I don't trust her," Mary said once they were out of earshot. "Or this place."

"Neither do I," Raziel added, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword. "But Layla's right. We'll play along for now."

They reached their rooms, adjacent to one another at the end of a quiet corridor. As Layla opened the door to her room, a wave of lavender and sandalwood greeted her. The interior was as luxurious as promised: a large canopy bed with silk sheets, a writing desk with a gilded chair, and a small table set with fresh fruit and a bottle of wine.

Mary peeked inside and frowned. "They're overcompensating."

Layla chuckled softly. "Perhaps. Let's get some rest. We'll be leaving at dawn."

Once settled, the trio took stock of their surroundings. Though the rooms were comfortable, Layla couldn't shake the feeling that they were being watched.

She moved to the window and glanced outside. The streets below were alive with activity, but her gaze lingered on a shadowy figure standing in an alley across from the hotel.

The figure didn't move, their face obscured by the hood of a cloak.

"Something wrong?" Raziel asked from the doorway, his voice low.

Layla stepped back from the window. "Nothing I can't handle. Get some rest."

As the evening wore on, the sounds of the bustling city began to fade, replaced by the occasional distant laughter or the clink of glasses. Though the beds were comfortable and the ambiance inviting, none of them slept easily that night.

______

Unable to shake the unease that lingered in her chest, Layla decided a midnight walk around Verdeti might help clear her mind. The city's air was cool and carried the faint aroma of blooming night jasmine.

The streets, which had been bustling with life and activity earlier, were quieter now, but not deserted. Verdeti never truly slept.

Wrapping her cloak tightly around her shoulders, Layla stepped out of the inn. Her boots tapped softly against the cobblestones as she strolled, observing the city's nightlife. Lanterns hung on wrought iron posts cast pools of golden light, illuminating the well-dressed patrons heading toward lavish parties or intimate taverns.

The soft hum of music from nearby establishments added a rhythmic backdrop to the quiet chatter of passersby.

As she wandered deeper into the city, Layla caught sight of a few individuals loitering on the edges of the street, their gazes following her movements.

She ignored them, her pace steady and her posture confident. However, it wasn't long before the first man stepped out of the shadows and blocked her path.

"Hey there, gorgeous," he drawled, his grin wide and far too familiar. "What's a lady like you doing out here all alone? You should let me keep you company."

Layla's eyes flicked to him briefly before she sidestepped without a word, continuing on her way. Her cold indifference seemed to sting the man, as he called after her, "Too good for me, huh? I see how it is!"

Before long, another group appeared. Two men and a woman this time, all dressed in fine but slightly disheveled attire, their cheeks flushed from drink. The woman, twirling a strand of hair between her fingers, stepped forward.

"You must be new here," she said, her voice light and teasing. "How about we show you how Verdeti really celebrates?"

Layla sighed inwardly, her patience already wearing thin. "I'm not interested," she said, her tone polite but firm.

The woman's face fell slightly, but her male companions snickered. "Come on," one of them pressed. "A beauty like you shouldn't waste the night alone. What's the harm in a little fun?"

Layla stopped walking and turned to face them fully, her expression calm but icy. "Move."

The single word carried a weight that made the trio hesitate. After a moment, they stepped aside, muttering under their breath as she walked past.

As the night stretched on, Layla encountered more persistent admirers. It seemed her striking features and air of quiet mystery made her a magnet for unwanted attention in Verdeti's nightlife. Some tried flattery, others resorted to bold declarations, but all were met with the same frosty demeanor.

A particularly daring man, dressed in a gaudy red jacket, even went so far as to grab her wrist. His smile was confident, his grip firm. "You're not leaving without at least sharing a drink with me."

Layla didn't flinch. Her golden eyes locked onto his, and she spoke in a voice as cold as steel. "Let go. Now."

The intensity of her gaze and the sharp edge in her tone made him release her immediately, stepping back with a muttered apology. Layla continued on her way, her steps unhurried, as if the encounter had been no more than a minor inconvenience.

By the time Layla returned to the inn, the first hints of dawn were beginning to lighten the sky. The city, though still lively, had begun to settle into a quieter rhythm. Layla climbed the stairs to her room, her expression calm but her mind restless.

The next morning, the inn's common room buzzed with whispers and curious glances. Word had spread about the mysterious woman who had turned down every advance the night before. Some admired her restraint and strength, while others muttered about her "arrogance" or "cold-heartedness."

"She's like an ice block," one man whispered loudly to his companion as Layla entered the room. "Not a single crack. Not even to the boldest of us."

Layla heard the comment but didn't acknowledge it, walking past with her usual composure. As she sat down at the table with Mary and Raziel, she noticed their curious stares.

"What happened last night?" Mary asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Nothing worth mentioning," Layla replied simply, pouring herself a cup of tea.

Raziel smirked, clearly amused. "You've made quite the impression, you know. 'The Ice Queen of Verdeti,' they're calling you."

Layla glanced at him, her expression neutral. "Better that than something worse."

Mary chuckled softly. "You're not wrong."

As the trio ate their breakfast, Layla remained indifferent to the whispers and stolen glances around the room. She had no interest in entertaining the rumors or indulging the people's curiosity. Her focus was already on the road ahead. Verdeti's charms and challenges were behind her, and the imperial city awaited.