Crow looked up as Penelope stepped over to join him and Hartley, announcing that the boy’s food was getting cold. Hartley hurried to join Kip at the table, leaving him alone with the knight. He nodded when Penelope said she wanted to give the two some space, “That’s probably for the best. The kid decided he’s going to tell her the truth about what he’s become. They should take some time to reconnect before he springs that on her tonight.”

He found that he was starting to genuinely hope Kip would accept Hartley, not only because it would mean the young thief would stay behind, but also because he wanted to see them look past their differences. He knew he couldn’t do that with Penelope, but at least Hartley had a chance. He turned to her, “While they’re talking, let’s go find an inn for tonight. I’d rather not sleep on the ground again if I can avoid it.” He laughed and then blushed as his mind wandered back to what had actually happened the night before. “Not that it was completely… I mean, I wasn’t… because of… Sorry, I shouldn’t have brought that up again.”

Crow led the way as they left Hartley and Kip to have some alone time, eager to put his uncomfortable joke behind him. [i]Why did I have to go and run my big mouth?[/i] He groaned inwardly. He wanted her to forget what he had done the previous night, and bringing it up again was not the way to do that. He just hoped Penelope wouldn’t linger on his words.

As they walked along the main road, he distracted himself by watching the peasants they passed by. They were dressed in finer clothing than the peasants of Brerra—not as luxurious as the ensembles of nobles, but still better quality than wool. He looked down at his own clothes: a tattered, dark gray tunic and worn black pants. The farther they traveled into Younis, the more he was beginning to stand out. If they wanted to blend in in this kingdom, he needed to find something less conspicuous to wear.

Along the left side of the road, he spotted a seamstress’s shop. He glanced at Penelope. “We should purchase some Younisian attire. Compared to these peasants, we look practically homeless.” Guiding her to the shop, he began browsing the clothes on display. Everything was made extremely well compared to what he was familiar with. The stitching was tight and even, which made the fabric soft to the touch.

He brushed his hand over a dark green, almost black tunic that was strung up on a line. It looked like it would fit him, so he took it down and found a simple pair of black trousers to match. The dark colors were exactly what he needed to blend in at night, and since they were new, he wouldn’t look like he had been living in the woods. “This should do it for me,” he said, turning to Penelope. “Have you found anything, love?”