“Don’t just stand there, Ace.” Jac grins broadly at me. “Take a seat.”
Smiling weakly in return, I make my way to the free stool beside Mabon. As I sit, I notice the bandage affixed to the right side of his bald head, just behind his ear. It is stark white against his midnight skin.
“Are you all right?” I gasp.
“Fit as a fiddle.”
“What happened?”
“Reavers,” he mutters like a curse.
Any further questions are cut off by Uther setting down a steaming bowl of oatmeal before me. I hadn’t even seen him leave the table.
“Thanks, Uther.”
He winks at me as he takes his seat. I still have not looked at Penn. My gaze skitters past him to the other end of the table. The men sitting there are both high-ranking members of the Ember Guild, judging by the insignias on their maroon tunics. They are also not thrilled by my presence, judging by the way they are regarding me—like a meddlesome insect that’s found its way inside your home and must be exterminated at the first opportunity.
“Is there something wrong with the porridge?” I ask, scrunching my nose at them.
Both men blink in surprise.
“It’s just, the way you’re looking at me right now, I’m half expecting you’ve tipped a vial of nightshade in it. And if I’m going to die, I’d rather my last meal not be porridge.” I grimace. “At least give me a rasher of bacon. An omelet. Somethingedible.”
Jac, Mabon, and Uther all chuckle lowly. One of the men—the one with limp black hair and a dour disposition—gets up and leaves without a word. His counterpart, whose hair is nearly asblond as mine, leans slightly forward on his stool and eyes me warily.
I eye him back.
“Poison’s a woman’s weapon,” he says finally. “If I decide to kill you, you’ll see it coming.”
“I’ll be sure to keep my eyes closed around you, then.” My head tilts as I examine his handsome features. “No great sacrifice, really, with a face like that.”
His lips twitch. “I’m Cadogan.”
“I’d say it’s a pleasure to meet you, Cadogan, but I don’t like to lie.” With that, I pick up my spoon and tuck into my porridge.
There is a marked silence at the table. It’s Cadogan who breaks it, his bark of laughter setting off a chorus of masculine amusement that takes several seconds to die down.
“She’s mouthy,” Cadogan notes when they’ve all stopped. “I like her.”
“You should see her with a bow,” Jac says. “You’ll fall in love.”
A low, unamused grunt comes from Penn’s direction. I ignore it, narrowing my eyes at Jac, who is seated directly across from me. “I wasn’t aware you were capable of loving anything besides your own reflection.”
Mabon snorts.
Jac throws a hand over his heart. “You wound me, Ace.”
I take another spoonful of porridge. It actually isn’t terrible.
“By the way…” Uther’s gray eyes are full of reassurance. “Don’t mind Gower. He’s an eighty-year-old curmudgeon in the body of a fighter.”
“I assume Gower is the man who fled the table upon my arrival?”
Uther nods.
“He’s got his nose out of joint because he wanted to be on the road already,” Jac chimes in. “The man doesn’t know what to do with his hands when they aren’t holding his reins or his cock.”
“Why the delay?” I scrape my spoon against the bottom of my bowl. “I thought we were off at first light.”