Crow felt a wave of relief when Penelope said she’d managed to catch his companions before they had left the hideout. He doubted they would have moved out this soon, but there had been a small chance that the other thieves could have run right away, so he was glad to know they hadn’t been too late to stop them. It was also relieving to hear that Hartley had been with them, which meant his companions had been willing to take the Younisian boy in after all. When Penelope said that his companions had looked worn down, he nodded faintly and looked off to the side. Even though he had saved the knight’s life, he still felt guilty for recklessly abandoning the other thieves. He was their leader; he was supposed to look out for them and keep their best interests at the forefront of his mind. But he just couldn’t bring himself to do that when Penelope’s life had been at stake. Nothing else mattered to him if she was in danger. It was why he couldn’t continue to lead the criminals when the war ended. She mattered more to him than anything else, so he couldn’t devote himself to heading a band of thieves while he was focused on taking care of her in the outer villages. He was just about to thank her for letting them know he wasn’t dead, but before he had a chance, she suddenly leaned down to press her lips against his. The thief blinked in surprise, unprepared for the sudden burst of affection, but it didn’t take long for him to ease into the kiss. He reached up with his free hand to tangle his fingers in her long hair, losing himself in her touch as they kissed passionately for a moment, so that when she pulled back again, he was breathless with desire. “I don’t know why you’re apologizing,” Crow grinned at her lightheadedly. “That was quite enjoyable for me.” He leaned up slightly, pining for one more quick kiss before he added: “I love you too, Penelope. You’re the highlight of my days in this wretched camp.” He shrugged haplessly. “I know it’s not saying much, since I find this place so dreadfully boring, but it’s true.”