“Hopefully not,” Crow mused in agreement, gingerly touching the bandages around his middle in a contemplative gesture. The wound beneath pained him slightly in response. “I appreciate the help your comrades have given me and all, but I want to get out of this place as soon as I can.” Not only was he worried about what the knights might do to him, he was also concerned about his companions. For all they knew, he was dead. Even if Hartley had made it to them, the boy had last seen him bleeding out on the battlefield, so he probably would have confirmed it. The thief didn’t know what they would do without a leader but, knowing how impulsive every one of them could be, he didn’t want to think about it. He found himself wishing once again that Simon was still alive, since the level-headed man was the only other one amongst their group who had the capabilities to take over for him.

As Gavin spoke up about the physician, Crow turned to look at him with a frown. It was probably more correct to assume that Jane wouldn’t help him any more than she already had to. She was barely treating him as it was, and after the way she had dressed his wound so roughly, he wouldn’t have been surprised if she chose to withhold a medicine that could keep his strength up. Honestly, it would have shocked him if she gave him anything other than water to keep him alive.

He glanced at Olivia and smirked snidely at her comment, “Yeah, apparently stealing treasured possessions from other people can make some enemies. Who knew?”

His lighthearted expression faded as Gavin went on to bring up what Layth was doing. The knowledge that Penelope’s brother was pooling together guards for him was unnerving, to say the least. He shifted uncomfortably. Given how vulnerable he was in his current state, it wouldn’t be hard for someone to “accidentally” hurt him. He didn’t like the thought of being left alone with any nobleman he didn’t trust, especially one handpicked by someone as cruel as Layth.

“Well, that’s just great,” Crow huffed, suddenly feeling irritable and a little restless. He wished he could get up from the cursed bed. Between his illness and all of the serious injuries he’d taken lately, he had spent far too much time on his back. He itched to move freely about again. Looking up at the canopy, he let out a long sigh of annoyance, “I give, and I give for you knights, yet someone always seems to conveniently overlook my sacrifices. I’m almost tempted to give that brother of yours a piece of my mind, love.”

“If you want to keep your tongue, you should think twice about that,” Gavin said in a warning tone. “That’s why I brought it up. If Layth stations his guards here, they likely won’t hesitate to injure you if you give them a reason to do so.”

“That’s why I said ‘almost,’” Crow muttered bitterly, averting his gaze. He shifted again, but wasn’t able to moved much before the chain on his wrist pulled taut and restricted his motion. Somehow, the metal restraint only served to frustrate him more. “Gods,” he groaned. “Why did they have to put these ridiculous things on me? It’s not like I could go anywhere, even if I tried. Useless cuffs…” He trailed off as he gave the chain one more spiteful tug.