THE NEXT MORNING
MICHAEL'S POINT OF VIEW:
The damn eggs were overcooked. Figures. I stabbed my fork into the sad looking yolk and sighed, dragging it through toast like it had personally wronged me. The café was decent, smells of roasted coffee and something sweet in the air, but none of it could fix the thorn still jammed under my skin.
"I could've had us settled in one of the high-tier safehouses near the northern wall." I muttered into my plate. "Could've had trackers watching the perimeter, secured exits, full supply cache. Hell, I know half the council here still owes me favors-"
"You're grumbling again." Xavier cut in, voice amused and annoyingly smug from across the table. "King of Rogues brought low by a bunch of glowing system rules. Tragic."
I glared at him.
"Says the prince who can't even call for backup."I said, annoyed.
He had the gall to chuckle low and amused as he stirred his tea with a silver spoon like we weren't neck deep in a cursed relic scavenger hunt.
