Crow didn’t like Penelope’s accusation. Of course he knew who he was. He may have been a little disoriented, but he wouldn’t have forgotten something as important as his own identity because of that. The real question was: How could [i]she[/i] have forgotten? It hadn’t even been that long ago since the last time he’d heard her use his name, so he didn’t understand how she’d forgotten in such a short amount of time. He’d expected her to try harder than that to remember it.

He looked up at Olivia as she even said that Penelope didn’t know his name. Somehow, hearing another person confirm out loud it made him feel a pang of disappointment. She really must not have known his name if her friend thought so too. Maybe the times he thought he remembered of her calling him Collin were just hallucinations too? That was discouraging. He let out a quiet sigh. Once they were alone, he would have to try to remember to tell her that his name really wasn’t Crow. He wanted her to know.

However, his doubts were laid to rest when Gavin suddenly joined the conversation and confirmed that Penelope really did know his name. Crow felt a wave of relief. Of course she knew. He wasn’t sure why she’d acted like she didn’t, but she really did know his name. All those times he recalled of her using it weren’t fake. The thought made him a little giddy. He was quite happy that the knight knew who he was, because he loved her and wanted her to share that part of his life with her.

As Olivia asked him her second question, Crow knitted his brow in thought. That was a difficult one to answer. There were quite a few people who had known him as Collin—his mother, of course, but also many of the people in the village of Myrefall. It was going to be difficult for him to scrounge up all of their names when it had been over a decade since he’d last seen many of them, especially when he was continually distracted by strange visions in the tent.

After a long pause, he gave up. Even if he’d been clearheaded, he doubted he would have been able to think of every single name. Besides, there was a much simpler way to answer the question.

“Just Penelope,” the thief said at last, turning to smile fondly at the knight. “Everyone else is dead.”