Chapter 259: Apparently She Had to Be Charming

DOVE’S POV

By noon the next day, Dove would have traded several unpleasant people for a working air conditioner.

The van’s fan blew warm air against her knees. Beside the road, the reservoir flashed between trees, looking cool and inviting and completely unsuitable for drinking. Red streaks marked the mud along its edge. She kept her sealed bottles in storage and tried not to think about swimming.

A diner stood ahead beside a gravel parking lot crowded with trucks. Its red roof had lost a corner, but smoke rose from an outdoor grill, and a man carried a tray of burgers through the open front door.

Dove slowed. "We’re eating there. If someone shoots at lunch, I’m taking it personally."

Edrik studied the parked vehicles. "Pull where we can leave without backing up."

She parked beside the road-facing edge of the lot. From there she could see the diner’s windows, the outdoor grill, and a small trailer with a radio antenna behind it. A chalkboard beside the front steps listed meals, bottled drinks, and relay messages. For once, the last item interested her more than the first.

Inside, the booths had been pushed against the walls to make room for folding tables. A broad man in an apron stood behind the counter, waving a spatula at somebody who wanted more onions.

"You can have onions or my good mood," he said. "Pick one, because I’m running low on both."

Then he saw Dove, and the spatula stopped halfway through the air.

She put her palms on the counter. "Please tell me you didn’t just forget how burgers work."

He laughed so hard that the man beside him started laughing too. Edrik remained close enough for his arm to brush hers, smiling with his mouth while he watched the room.

*Social opportunity detected,* Sprout announced. *Obtain useful route assistance through willing cooperation. Reward: three hundred Normal Coins, one clothing or food bundle, and Resting Sweet Face.*

*What the hell is Resting Sweet Face?*

*Strangers will find your sharp remarks more charming. It cannot force agreement, erase suspicion or make an enemy harmless.*

*So I can be rude and look adorable. Finally, something designed for me. Do I have to flirt?*

*No. Being tolerable is sufficient.*

Dove nearly looked behind her to see whether someone else had acquired a mouthy system. *You’re getting brave.*

*You have complained about insufficient guidance.*

*I complained about bad guidance. There’s a difference.*

She accepted the quest and asked the cook about the radio trailer. He pointed through the window, then explained that messages came through in batches and the operator wouldn’t leave his equipment just because a pretty woman had arrived.

"Good," Dove said. "I’d rather he answered the radio."

The cook liked that enough to give her a proper answer. The operator took a break after the next transmission, and he could introduce them if she waited. Dove paid for two generous burgers and extra meat from their ordinary travel supplies, agreeing on the trade before Edrik sat down. No shop appeared beside the counter. Sprout’s public stock remained paused, and Dove had no intention of setting herself up as the attraction in a parking lot.

Edrik took the chair facing the door. She sat close enough to steal a pickle from his plate.

"You ordered your own," he said.

"Yours looked lonely."

"That’s a dangerous reason to start taking things from me."

She met his eyes over the pickle, then discovered that eating it while he watched was much less casual than she had intended. He knew exactly what he was doing, the bastard, and she wasn’t giving him the satisfaction of looking away first.

The cook interrupted by dropping napkins on their table. Edrik thanked him without changing his expression, which somehow made Dove want to laugh harder.

Outside, a commotion rose near the grill. Two men had caught a third trying to take a crate from a truck. One held his wrist. The other raised a small black device, touched it to the struggling man’s side, and the thief dropped to his knees with a broken gasp.

Dove stopped chewing.

The man put the device away while his companion tied the thief’s hands. A few seconds later, the thief was cursing again, trying to kick them.

"New talent," the cook said quietly. "One of those a day. Knocks a fellow’s muscles out for a few seconds. Says he’s with a recovery crew."

Edrik watched the man’s hands. "A few seconds is plenty."

Dove believed him. The thief was already moving again, but his chance to run had gone. She kept eating because staring wouldn’t teach her more, and asked the cook whether that crew worked for the diner.

"No. They bought breakfast. Same as you."

That mattered. A man eating under somebody’s roof didn’t automatically become somebody they trusted.

When the operator came inside, the cook waved him over. He was a narrow, tired man with a pencil tucked behind one ear. Dove gave him the clinic’s name, the tire-shop relay point, and Thorne’s description. She didn’t announce her full history to the room.

"A panther brought in by a dragon?" he asked. "I have a message waiting at the trailer."

For a moment she couldn’t stand. Edrik’s hand settled against her back, steady and warm, while the operator waited without rushing her.

Sprout marked the quest complete only after the operator agreed to help. Dove chose the clothing bundle: four breathable adult outfits in the sizes she selected, spare socks, and a small wash kit. Two outfits for Edrik, two for her. Thorne’s choices would wait until he could complain about them himself.

The three hundred coins arrived with the bundle, owned supplies she wouldn’t have to return. Resting Sweet Face settled into her list of earned perks without changing how she felt about anybody. She wanted to enjoy that. She would, later, when her heart stopped trying to reach the trailer ahead of her.

They crossed the lot together. The operator unlocked a drawer beneath his radio and took out a page of notes.

"He made me write the last part twice," he said, passing it over. "Wanted to be sure I got it right."

Dove recognized Thorne before she reached his name.

Tell my bossy wife I’m eating. Tell her to come back with all her opinions. I haven’t finished disagreeing with her.