Crow looked up again to meet Penelope’s gaze as she told him about her new position as a lieutenant. From the start, he could tell she was guarded about her past as well, but she did mention a few things that caught his attention. The first of which was that she was working with her uncle, who, if he recalled correctly, didn’t like her very much. He found himself wondering what sort of effect that had on her. From the sound of her voice, they probably didn’t get along any more now than they had when she’d first told him about the man.

He also hung on her brief mention of her last mission—the one they had gone on together. The heaviness to her words and tone brought up a pang of sadness within him. Even though he knew he couldn’t have finished out the mission with her back then without going back to prison, he wished he could have done something more to help her. It seemed like she was taking their failure personally even two years later. It pained him to know that she had been carrying that burden alone for so long.

As she asked him her question, he took a moment to think before answering. Initially, he hadn’t been keen on telling her anything about himself, but she had opened up to him a little. Maybe he could give her a bit more as well.

“Yeah,” he started slowly. “I know you must think my companions are heartless criminals, but they’re actually good people. We’ve all just been through a lot in this war… It’s taken its toll on everyone out here.” He paused, debating how much he should share before he went on: “We all met two winters ago. In the beginning, there were more of us… a lot more, but now it’s just the four of us. With so much conflict happening, none of us wanted to be on our own. It’s too dangerous now.” He shook his head, giving a faint shudder as he thought about all of the times he would have died if he’d been on his own. “We all watch each other’s backs to make sure we get through this thing alive.

“As for them choosing me to be the leader, I suppose it was just a combination of my skills and reputation,” he shrugged. “I try my best, but being responsible for the lives of three other people is stressful. If I make the wrong decision and someone dies, their blood is on my hands.” He averted his gaze as he recalled the fifth thief that had been a part of their group long ago: Charles. The young thief had died on a raid that he gone poorly, and Crow still partially blamed himself for the loss, since he was the one who had come up with the plan that got him killed. The incident had changed him greatly. Ever since then, he had become a more somber person, taking his role as a leader very seriously.

Realizing he had fallen silent for a while, he looked up at Penelope again and offered an apologetic smile, “Sorry, love. I just got a little lost in thought.” He stopped for a moment to think of a new topic. “It seems like you and Olivia are getting along better now. When did that happen?”