Quartz's gaze lingered on Josephine for a moment longer than necessary, his sharp eyes narrowing slightly as if weighing her words against the backdrop of his own thoughts. Her offer was unexpected but not unwelcome, though it did little to erase the lingering questions buzzing in his mind. He leaned back slightly in his seat, the movement measured and deliberate, his arms still crossed loosely over his chest.

"I appreciate the offer," he said after a beat, his tone even and calm, but with an edge that hinted at his ever-present caution. "But I find that answers come clearer when one watches instead of asks." His pale eyes flickered toward Anastasia, his expression unreadable. "And I’ve been watching."

The subtle emphasis on the last word was deliberate, meant to imply that he had been noting the nuances of her behavior since they arrived, the way she interacted with Ana, and the layers of purpose she seemed to carry behind her composed demeanor. Quartz was no stranger to people who cloaked their true intentions, and while Josephine’s actions didn’t scream danger, he wasn’t ready to dismiss the possibility. Trust, in his experience, was earned through time and consistency, not words.

But there was something else, too—a spark of curiosity, buried beneath his guarded exterior. Josephine didn’t behave like someone who was running recklessly, nor like someone with a clear-cut plan. She seemed... measured. Intentional. Yet, there were cracks in that armor, moments of vulnerability that Quartz couldn't ignore.

He shifted his focus briefly to Anastasia, who had settled into a more relaxed posture, seemingly unconcerned with Quartz’s scrutiny. That, too, was a puzzle. Ana was rarely this unguarded, this willing to let someone into their tightly wound circle. It made Josephine all the more intriguing—and all the more worth watching.

After a long pause, Quartz spoke again, his tone softer but no less serious. "I’m sure Anastasia has his reasons for bringing you into this fold, and I won’t question that. But understand this—" His eyes locked with Josephine’s, the intensity returning, though it was tempered now by something more akin to curiosity than suspicion. "I don’t take chances with the people I care about. If you’re here, it’s because he trusts you. I’m trusting that judgment... for now."

He let the words hang in the air for a moment before shifting his gaze out the window, scanning the quiet street beyond. His posture eased slightly, though his focus remained sharp. "Enjoy your meal," he added, almost as an afterthought, his tone neutral but not dismissive.

Quartz’s way of speaking was rarely direct; it was layered with meaning and built to gauge reactions as much as to convey his own thoughts. Whether Josephine would respond to his veiled warning—or see it for the tentative olive branch it might also be—remained to be seen.

Anastasia shifted slightly in his seat, his sharp features softened by the pale glow of the morning sun streaming through the window. Though his usual aloofness remained, the quiet atmosphere of the diner seemed to relax him in a way Quartz rarely saw. His gaze flicked between Josephine and Quartz, a flicker of amusement in his eyes at their subtle interplay. He rested his elbows lightly on the table, interlacing his fingers as he leaned forward.

Before the silence could stretch too long, the sound of soft footsteps on the wooden floor announced the approach of a barmaid. She carried a small wooden tray under one arm, her movements quick but fluid. Dressed in a simple linen blouse and a dark woolen skirt, her hair was tied back in a loose braid. Her hazel eyes scanned the trio with polite curiosity.

“Good morning,” she greeted with a warm smile, her tone friendly and practical. “What can I get for you? We’ve fresh bread with honey or cheese, porridge with dried fruits, and eggs cooked however you’d like. There’s cider, milk, or warm ale to drink—or we’ve just brewed some herbal tea, if you’d prefer something lighter.”

Quartz’s gaze lifted to meet hers, his tone calm and measured. “Porridge with dried fruits and a cup of cider,” he said, removing his gloves and setting them neatly beside him.

The barmaid nodded, jotting down his order on a small slate with a piece of chalk before turning to Anastasia. Her smile faltered slightly under his sharp, always assessing gaze, but she kept her tone bright. “And for you, sir?”

Ana’s eyes scanned the outside one more time before answering, his voice even and clipped. “Bread and cheese. A cup of tea.”

Anastasia couldn’t help himself from scanning the streets. Something felt.. wrong.

She jotted that down, then turned to Josephine with a more curious smile. There was something about her that clearly intrigued the barmaid—perhaps her poise or the quiet elegance with which she carried herself. “And for the lady?”

Anastasia’s attention shifted back to Josephine as she would respond, though his focus lingered on her, not the exchange. Once the orders were complete and the barmaid retreated, Anastasia leaned back slightly in his chair, the hint of a smirk playing on his lips again despite his unease.

“Looks like you’ve already caught Quartz’s attention,” he said lightly, though there was an unmistakable layer of meaning behind his words. “Don’t take it personally—he watches everyone like that. Even me, from time to time.” His smirk deepened. “But I’d wager you’ve given him more to think about than most.”

Quartz shot him a flat look but didn’t reply, his expression unreadable. Anastasia turned his gaze back to Josephine, leaning forward slightly, his voice dropping just enough that it would only carry to her.

“You seem unusually calm for someone who knows what—or who—might be looking for them,” he said, his tone curious but not accusatory. “That’s either a sign of confidence or stupidity. So, I’d like to say that I admire your confidence.”