The five days following the last meeting, Crow did his best to be patient as Hazel worked on refining his medicine. He itched to ask her about how Penelope seemed to be doing, since he couldn’t see her himself, but in the interest of not making her change her mind about arranging a meeting for them, he kept his mouth shut and focused on recovering instead.

The first day after their trip to Myrefall hadn’t been the most encouraging. He had woken up in the late morning but had immediately gone into another severe coughing fit that had tired him out enough to go back to sleep until later in the afternoon. The episode had concerned Hazel enough that she called Simon directly afterwards to come with her to the forest south of Myrefall to look for new herbs. Between the two of them, they managed to find enough to prepare medicine for at least a week, if not longer.

By that night, Hazel had finished making the first round of the adapted medicine and had Crow try it out. He didn’t like the taste nearly as much as the last draught—the combination of the ginger with the feverfew and turmeric created a strange spicy, bitter mix that he nearly choked on in surprise—but as long as it worked, he didn’t care how foul it was. He just wanted something to cure his illness, so he could see Penelope again.

Over the course of the following four days, it was hard to tell if Crow was doing better or worse. He exhibited no outward signs of recovery, but the blood in his occasional coughing fits seemed to have lessened. So, when the day finally came for Hazel to meet with the nobles again, he was nervous that she might decide he wasn’t well enough to meet with Penelope after all.

As she was preparing to leave, he approached her hesitantly near the opening of the cave. “Do you think this new medicine is working?” he asked her in a tentative voice as he eyed her face to see if her expression would tell him her answer.

“I don’t know,” the herbalist shook her head as she packed her bag. “Your illness is frustrating because it’s all internal. Unless I cut you open, I can’t tell if you’re actually healing or not.”

Crow shuddered at the thought. “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t do that,” he said and then shifted his weight as he went on. “But I’m not coughing up as much blood lately. That seems like a good sign, right?”

“Maybe,” Hazel shrugged. “But you’re still coughing. I don’t know enough about this symptom of yours to say for sure if you’re getting better. Perhaps you are, or perhaps nothing has changed besides the amount of blood. It doesn’t necessarily mean the medicine is affecting you.”

“So, what are you saying?” he frowned, worried that his hunch had been correct after all. If Hazel didn’t deem him fit enough to travel, there was no way she would talk to Penelope for him about meeting up again. He held his breath as he waited for her answer.

“I’m not saying anything,” she finally looked up from her bag to meet his gaze. “I’m going to speak with the physician about it and see what her thoughts are. She seems to have experience with this type of symptom, so she’ll be able to say if you’re healing or not much more definitively than I can. Until then, we know nothing, and we will assume nothing.”

Crow fell silent and lowered his gaze. His prospects of seeing Penelope again were looking worse and worse. “Does that mean you aren’t going to speak to her for me?” he finally asked in a soft voice, unable to keep beating around the bush any longer. He had to know what she was planning.

“I can’t say,” Hazel admitted. “It depends on what the physician tells me.” She pursed her lips slightly as she looked at him, going on seriously, “But I wouldn’t get my hopes up if I were you. It could still happen, but it probably won’t. Until you’re healed, your recovery comes first and foremost, so if you’re not well enough to travel on your own, then I will not be the one to send you out on a trip that could get you killed.”

“Why do you think it’s so dangerous?” Crow narrowed his eyes. “I feel fine aside from the coughing, and that only seems to happen about every other day anyway.”

“It’s a precautionary measure,” Hazel explained with a hint of exasperation in her voice. “Until I’m sure you’re better, you’re not going anywhere, and that’s final. Ah!” She held up her finger as he opened his mouth to argue. “Don’t even bother. You can’t change my mind on this.”

Crow wavered for a moment and then shot her a wordless glare.

Hazel just rolled her eyes as she shouldered her packed bag. “I know you hate this, but it’s for your own good, so I don’t give a damn. Now then,” she narrowed her eyes at him in a warning look. “Don’t you dare follow me again, or I won’t talk to your knight for you even if it turns out you’re well enough to go.”

“Fine,” Crow spat, curling his lip at her hostilely.

Hazel ignored the gesture and just shook her head as she made her way out of the camp without a word of goodbye. Crow watched her leave and let out an irritable huff, turning around to walk back to his bed mat and lay down. He glanced around the cavern to see that his companions were already beginning to settle down for the night as well.

He closed his eyes, pretending to sleep as the other thieves laid down around him. He listened closely until he heard their breathing even out, indicating that they were asleep for the night, before he carefully and quietly rose from his bed and crept towards the cave entrance. Hastily throwing on his boots and a cloak and arming himself with his daggers for safety, he slipped out into the night.

As he walked along the riverbank, he smiled to himself, proud of his own cleverness. Hazel had only made him promise not to follow her. As long as he didn’t go to the tavern, he wouldn’t be breaking his word. He quickened his pace, heart racing excitedly as he made his way through the forest. He would find a way to see Penelope again. After learning from his failure to catch her the last time, he had a new plan that he was sure would work to separate her from that physician.