Page 27 of In The Dark

I admire her cheerfulness, but I’ll never understand morning people. My blank stare lands on Ezra and I groan, sliding into a seat at one of the wooden tables, and rub my temples. Ren sits beside me.

“Good morning, dearies!” she says, pouring us three mugs of their morning brew. I grin, sipping. “Would you like our breakfast pie to start your day?” She looks at us expectantly. Ezra only nods, drinking out of his mug, clearly not a morning person either.

“That would be great, thank you,” I say.

Twenty minutes go by. We’re inhaling our food at animpressive speed when she comes back with another round. Whatever it is, it’s delightful.

“Eat up, we have plenty,” she says.

Ezra eats in silence while Ren practically moans into his food, inhaling his fourth serving. Both have been quiet for most of the morning, leaving me to spark a conversation inspired by the one I had with Alec.

And my favorite way of gaining information.

“You know, I was thinking about the orphanage yesterday—how I still don’t know anything about my parents.” I take a bite, hoping my words sound casual. “I was hoping that once we complete this mission, the king would grant me leave to start my search.”

“We’ve already had this discussion before. They’re most likely dead. It would be a waste of time,” Ezra says, chewing his food as he looks up at me, mouth full. Ren briefly side-eyes him, the utensil halfway to his mouth, furrowing his brows, but he remains silent.

Ezra casually waves his fork in the air, continuing. “If King Elion took you in from the orphanage, it would be a waste of time to look for your parents. You know that, otherwise you wouldn’t have been at the orphanage.” He holds my gaze as if it’s obvious, which it is. “King Elion would be disappointed if you left. Besides, he’s practically a father to you.”

“Fatheris a bit of a stretch, but he’s right,” Ren says, talking around his mouthful. “Most of us have never even tried searching for our kin, and the ones who do often come back with a grave marker.”

His gaze drops, a brief sadness creeping in. I realize that I’ve never actually thought about Ren’s family much. He came from the orphanage as well, bringing insight to the early brotherhood days. I chew my food and nod, as if thinking about it.

“I could see how it might be a waste of my time. Best not to get my hopes up.” I chuckle.

“Exactly,” Ezra replies with a grin, going back to his food in silence.

I brush off the previous conversation and lean against the chair. Ezra sips, and I begin to wonder what put him in such a quiet mood, assuming it might be because of Ren tagging along. The two hardly get along.

“You seem tired,” I point out.

“I am. Isn’t it obvious?” Ezra huffs a laugh.

A devious grin tilts my mouth. “How can you be tired when you didn’t even cuddle me last night? I walked into the chamber after washing up and you were already asleep.”

“Probably because you suck the life out of everyone,” Ren mumbles, and I go to stab his hand with my fork. He dodges it with a menacing grin as it makes contact with the table, utensils trembling.

Ezra huffs sarcastically. “I was too busy waiting for you to cuddle.”

“So, what are our plans today?” I chuckle but throw Ren a glare, ripping my fork back out of the wood. Throwing my napkin on the table, I ignore Ren again, trying not to cringe the moment he begins to breathe into his food.

“I thought about heading to the local apothecary to restock our healing salve. How’s your shoulder?” Ezra asks.

My shoulder—right. I actually forgot and haven’t checked it since he put more salve on it yesterday.

“Surprisingly well, it seems, since I forgot I had an injury,” I mutter with a casual shrug. “The salve helped.”

“Good,” he says. “Still, I’ll head down a few blocks to restock since we’re running low. We’ll need it for the journey.”

“I also need salve. Myst told me she cut her leg yesterday,” Ren says, mentioning his red mare. I admire the fact that he can talk with her about such things.

“We’ll go together,” I say, and Ezra nods as we rise.

I drop a few coins for the innkeeper, turning to follow Ezraand Ren out the door, when someone suddenly grips my arm. I whirl around to the innkeeper, who’s an inch from my face.

“You startled me,” I exhale, palming my dagger.

“Trust him,” she says quietly, anxiously glancing toward the exit. My eyes flick across her expression—an attempt to read her face—when her gaze meets mine. “Looks can be deceiving, dear, but trust him.”