Crow grinned as he followed Penelope into the inn, unable to wipe the ecstatic expression off of his face. He squeezed her hand, which was in his once again as she led them to the dining hall. Although he was elated that she had confessed that she loved him too, part of him wondered where their relationship was going to go. He couldn’t imagine courting her for marriage—there was no way her stoic father would give his blessing to a thief—yet he didn’t want to end things with just a fling. Penelope was different than other women. He wanted to hold onto her for as long as he could.

“Thank the gods,” Crow said with relief when Penelope said he was in luck. “I don’t know if I could have lasted much longer without food.” He sat down with her at the table, reminiscing about the first time they had eaten at a restaurant. It had only been a little more than a week ago, but back then they had both been tormenting each other as prisoner and guard. It was strange to think how far they had come in such a short amount of time.

[i]It hasn’t been long, but we’ve been through a lot together already,[/i] he thought, looking at Penelope across the table. From long talks in the wagon to the battles they had fought, it felt like they had been together for an entire season. He hoped the journey back to Brerra would feel just as long.

Soon, a wench came up to take their orders, “What can I get for you both today?”

“I’ll have a stew and a mug of ale,” Crow said.

“What do you want in the stew?” the girl asked, writing down his order.

“Surprise me,” he winked and turned to Penelope. “What would you like, darling?” He rested his hand on top of hers, running his thumb gently across her knuckles. He remembered how he had done the same thing not long ago to irritate her. Now that the gesture was genuine, it felt much better to him.