Crow let out a quiet yelp when he felt an unexpected kick in his shin. He was momentarily tempted to kick Penelope back, but he restrained himself, instead shooting the knight a glare, “I was only kidding. Lighten up, would you? This was meant to be fun.” He downed another sip of his drink and went back to watching the other peasants in the small tavern. The group at the gambling table had grown sizably in the last couple of minutes. The thief observed their movements, looking for signs of tipsiness, and singled out a young man with sandy blonde hair. He swayed ever so slightly when he walked, but didn’t shout and jeer like his drunken friends. A perfect target.

“I know you just told me not to pretend we’re a couple,” Crow said to Penelope. “But humor me just this once, would you? Don’t ask me why.” He turned away from her before she could respond and called out to the young man, using his fake Younisian accent, “You there! Yes, you; I have a few questions.”

“Yessir?” the man said, walking over to their table.

Crow gave the blonde his best smile and reached across the table to place his hand on top of Penelope’s, silently praying that she wouldn’t object and ruin his act, “We were just married, you see, but my wife doesn’t want to move far from her family. She has a sickly mother, so instead of bringing her with me to Younis, I’ve decided to move to Brerra. This village seems pleasant enough and it’s close to my mother-in-law’s home, but we want to get a local’s opinion. What say you, kind sir?”

“Congratulations to the both of ye,” the young man gave them a toothy grin. “But if yer lookin’ for a pleasant village, ye should try further south. We ain’t got no jobs or money ‘round here. Terrible place to raise a family, it is.”

Crow frowned, “But I’ve seen men working in fields.”

“They’s only half the people ‘round here,” the man shook his head. “An’ all their money goes to the king, an’ then some. Rumor says His Majesty thinks we’re hoarding, so he’s gonna send knights to collect. Ye don’t wanna be a part’o that, no sir. Try lookin’ south.”

“I see,” Crow murmured thoughtfully. “Thank you for your help.”

The sandy haired man casted them another grin, seeming pleased that the had been of help, and ambled back to the gambling table.

Crow took another sip of his mead and swirled the remaining liquid in his mug. So, the outer villages really were worse off than when he had left. Last year, they had barely been scraping by with their meager earnings, but they’d had enough to pay off their taxes to the king. Now, it sounded like they were falling far behind. That wasn’t good news. He hoped he could finish the king’s assignment fast enough that he could come back and help them before His Highness sent in his next round of tax collectors.

Crow downed the rest of his drink and looked up at Penelope, “We should go find the inn before it gets too late. William might get mad if we’re gone for much longer, and I really don’t feel like putting up with his attitude right now.”