On the fifth day, Romon had returned to his room when, before much time had passed, someone knocked on the door.
Romon frowned slightly. After thinking it over, he still opened it.
The visitor was unexpectedly the waiter, half his face red and swollen. He bowed. "Lord Romon, a noble has sent someone to ask to see you. I heard his toothache has flared up, and none of the potions he brought along have worked. Having learned that you are a Druid, he wishes you to treat him... He also said that if you can cure his toothache, he will pay you one hundred gold coins."
Since Romon had been coming and going in his Druid robes after checking into this inn, they knew that a Druid was also staying here.
"A noble? No time." Romon waved a hand.
"Yes, that was how I answered him too. That noble said that if you would not go, he would..."
"He would do what?" Romon frowned.
"He would send people to invite you over." The waiter placed a peculiar emphasis on the word "invite."
Romon froze, then flew into a rage. With a cold snort, he asked, "He really said that?"
"Yes... that is exactly what happened, Lord Romon. There are not many priests or Druids in the city to begin with. Because of the festival, they have all gone to the neighboring city. The priests and Druids left in town are only apprentices, and people like them cannot treat serious illnesses. This noble searched for priests for a long time but could not find one."
"I told him that you were an honored guest, and because of that, he slapped me. Look, it is still swollen!" the waiter said indignantly.
Wasn't that so? Upon closer inspection, Romon saw that the waiter's