When Penelope agreed with him quickly, Crow felt certain he had made the right decision by telling Hartley to stay with them for the night. The flush on her cheeks made him wonder though. She seemed flustered by the thought of spending the night with him. He eyed her curiously for a moment and then froze. [i]Has she never been with a man before?[/i]

As he thought about it more, it began to make sense. Nobles were much more formal about their relationships than peasants. From what he knew, most noblewomen were formally courted by suitors in the presence of their family members. Penelope had likely never been courted before, since she had opted to become a knight instead.

[i]I need to make sure I don’t push her to do anything she isn’t comfortable with,[/i] he thought, realizing just how physical he had been with her that evening alone. He didn’t want to make her feel like he was forcing her to do something she didn’t want to do yet. 

Crow focused in on Penelope and Hartley’s conversation again when they mentioned him as the boy’s competition. He rolled his eyes, “It’s hardly a competition if one of the challengers already won.” He smiled at Penelope. “It was over before it even began.”

He groaned as Hartley ordered more drinks, “Not this again.” He could still feel the pounding in his head from his hangover the day before. As one who preferred not to get drunk at all, this wasn’t his idea of a good time. The ale at this inn wasn’t as strong as Malcolm’s home brewed stuff, but he still didn’t want to risk having too much. “I’m just going to stick with this one mug, thank you very much,” he said, taking a swig of his drink.

“Come on,” Hartley nudged him. “Live a little.”

“Is it really living if you can’t remember the day before?” Crow shook his head.

“Of course it is,” Hartley said without hesitation. “Where’s your sense of adventure?”

“Not at the bottom of a drink,” Crow answered snidely. “Get drunk if you’d like, but you’re not going to convince me to join you this time.”

“Suit yourself,” Hartley shrugged. He picked up a fresh mug of ale, brought to him by the wench he had signaled to earlier, and downed half of the drink at once. He slammed the glass down on the table with a loud exhale.

“Classy,” Crow muttered.

“What about you?” Hartley turned to Penelope with a challenging grin. “Can you prove that you’re more of a man than your lover?”