Crow looked up at Penelope as she kissed him on the cheek and said that he should accept the offer his father had proposed. He was a little surprised by how quickly she came to that conclusion, but as she went on to explain her reasoning, it made sense to him. If he told John that he would do it, then the knights would have to give him enough time to heal, otherwise he wouldn’t be able to make the trek to the inner kingdom. By then, he and Penelope would hopefully have had enough time to think of a way out of this whole disaster of a situation if he chose to run too.

The thought of escaping before John forced him to see his father sounded quite appealing to the thief, but somehow, he still wasn’t certain it was what he wanted to do. As much as he hated to admit it, he was curious why Albin was suddenly trying to reach out to him after over two decades of silence. The man had worked his way through the ranks of nobility to become the king of Brerra. Crow had even heard wind that he’d married, since it was well known even in the outer villages that there was a queen of Brerra too.

His father had everything he could ever want as a member of royalty, so what could he possibly want with his half-peasant, bastard son? It didn’t make any sense to Crow. The only thing he could do for the man was cause him more trouble. Perhaps, like the last king, Albin wanted him to use his thievery skills for his own benefit, and believed he would be willing to do so because of their familial ties? He wanted to snort at the ridiculousness of the thought. If the king thought he would do anything to help him, he had another thing coming.

As Penelope promised that she would help him no matter what he chose, Crow smiled up at her gratefully. “Thank you,” he exhaled, tracing his thumb over the back of her hand in a thoughtful gesture. “To be completely honest, I’m not even sure what to think about all of this. I never thought I’d ever hear from my father unless he was standing over the gallows at my execution.” He shook his head. “It’s strange that he’s been trying to reach me now.”

Suddenly, he blinked as he remembered something else that he’d left out. “Speaking of which,” he looked up at her with a curious expression. “Your father knows that we’re related. He told me I should accept the invitation because the king is my father. I don’t suppose you happen to know how he found that out, would you?”