Nora's POV
When Antonia mentioned we should hang out and chat tonight, I pictured us curled up somewhere cozy at the house, maybe even grabbing a seat at some quiet coffee shop despite her complete aversion to caffeine.
The last thing I expected was finding myself tucked into a corner table at Brewhouse once again, watching Antonia work behind the bar while I waited for her to spare me a few minutes between customers.
Not that I minded, really. This place had become oddly comforting, and I'd already cast a protective circle around my table to ward off any overly friendly patrons. Somewhere beneath my feet, James was down in the basement extracting information from Emilia through methods I preferred not to think about too deeply.
He'd probably get more out of her without me hovering nearby anyway. Plus, sitting here alone gave me the perfect excuse to pull out my feather again.
