Crow was relieved when Penelope requested for William to let them stop and take a break. He felt uncomfortable after he had vented to Penelope, and he worried that she might try to bring the subject back up again if they continued to travel in that small, inescapable space. Hopefully she would just forget about his unnecessary words after exploring the marketplace for a while. It would be better if she did. Friends or not, there was no reason for him to involve her in his own internal conflict.

It wasn’t like he had a choice between the two desires anyway. There wasn’t anything to discuss. It was already settled: He had to leave Penelope and go home, without ever telling her how he felt or trying to reach out to her again. Besides, he already knew what would happen if he revealed his love for her; she would turn him down in that caring way of hers, but their friendship would be tarnished—he would have destroyed a relationship that took so many long days to build up, and his softening heart would turn to stone again. He wanted to avoid that pain for as long as he could.

“Thank the gods,” Crow sighed when Penelope announced that they would be taking a break soon. “It’s so stifling in here. I think this still air is driving me—” Crow inhaled sharply as the knight suddenly leaned in and wrapped her arms around him. His eyes widened and he sat rigidly, heart pounding in his chest. He opened his mouth to speak, but found that he had lost his voice. [i]Wh-what is she doing?[/i] the thief thought. He stared past her shoulder at the other side of the wagon, in a trance that left him unable to move. He was strangely disconnected, but aware of everything all at once. He felt her soft, brown hair against his cheek, her slender arms wrapped around his back, her chest pressed against his. The embrace felt foreign to him—he hadn’t been hugged by anyone like that since his mother died so many years ago—but it was so comforting, he never wanted it to end.

[color=fff79a][b]“I’m not really sure what you were talking about earlier,”[/b][/color] Penelope said softly, her breath warm against his ear. [color=fff79a][b]“But I don’t think one moment is worth death... So please, be careful.”[/b][/color]

[i]She thought I was talking about physical destruction?[/i] Crow thought. He had a sudden urge to embrace her too, wanting to return the comfort she had given him. It was difficult though. He trembled slightly as he began to lift his arms from where they lay limp at his sides. But before he could work up the nerve to hug her back, she pulled away, returning to her seat at his side. His heartbeat slowed, and he let his arms fall. Just like that, the trace was broken.

“Thanks,” Crow mumbled. His tongue still felt a bit like lead in his mouth. “And it’s not what you think. I’m not going to die—or at least I shouldn’t. You don’t have to worry.” He felt the wagon slow to a halt. They had arrived at the marketplace. He glanced out the window to see bustling crowds of people and rows of hearty vendors, shouting out sales pitches for their products. “This looks like fun,” the thief said with a Younisian lilt, offering a genuine smile to the knight. “I hope you feel confident with your accent, because you’re going to need it here.”