The smell of warm bread and seasoned meat greeted Michael as he stepped into the common area of the inn. The place was quiet, save for the crackle of a cooking fire and the soft clatter of dishes behind the counter.
The innkeeper looked up from polishing a glass. He gave a curt nod, but there was something different in his posture—looser, more relaxed.
Michael sat at his usual spot. A minute later, a steaming plate of eggs, root vegetables, and sliced meat arrived without him even needing to ask.
He raised a brow. "Thanks."
"No trouble," the innkeeper said, and then lingered for just a moment longer than usual. "Let me know if you want seconds."
Michael watched the man walk away, noting how the innkeeper no longer held that stiff tension in his shoulders. He almost seemed… comfortable.
It puzzled Michael for a moment until he recalled the passing glances and wary distance the man had kept in the first few days. Now? He was freer. More open.
