Being in the middle of the knights’ camp, Crow slept lightly throughout the night. He didn’t trust the nobles to leave him alone, despite the fact that he had a letter from the king permitting his appearance, so he woke up early the next day even though he had been quite tired the night before. Sitting up on his bedroll, he stretched his legs and took a moment to look around the tent as a precaution in case any knights had managed to do anything while he’d been asleep. Nothing seemed to have changed since the night before, but now that he was up, he didn’t feel like going back to sleep.

He yawned and stood up, slipping his boots on and heading out of the tent to see if Penelope was awake yet. When he stepped outside, he shivered slightly against the cool morning air. It wouldn’t be much longer before winter, and the temperature was already dropping quickly. He hadn’t felt it much while he’d been in the animal-skin tent, but now he was beginning to wonder if this season was going to be just as brutal as the last. For the villagers’ sakes, he hoped not. They had barely been able to get through the last one, and he’d heard of quite a few deaths caused by the intense cold. After the last deadly winter and the atrocities of the war, the peasants of the kingdom needed a break from hardship.

Crow’s green eyes swept over the camp as he searched for Penelope’s familiar face, but he didn’t see her anywhere. Perhaps she was still asleep? He glanced back at her tent. It was likely, since the only reason he was up this early was because he didn’t feel comfortable enough to sleep in while he was in the camp of his enemies.

Momentarily, he toyed with the idea of going to wake her up, since he knew he would feel more at ease around the knights—who were already shooting him hostile looks again—if she was by his side. However, he knew he couldn’t go inside her tent without drawing some strange looks. Nobles were so formal. It would have been unusual enough for an unmarried man of the same status to enter a woman’s tent. If he, a ragged thief, tried the same thing, he would surely raise some suspicion. So, not wanting to draw any more attention to himself than he already had, he turned away from her tent and made his way over to the firepit, where he could smell freshly cooked breakfast.

At his approach, the knights who had gathered around to eat shifted away as if he had a contagious disease. He found their discomfort amusing. The last time he’d been here, the knights hadn’t held back from insulting him or spitting at him or otherwise being unpleasant. Now, it seemed like word must have spread that he was to be treated like a guest. He smirked to himself. Though he would be leaving soon, he still had time to enjoy their begrudging ‘special treatment’ while it lasted. Why not have a bit of fun?

“Good morning,” Crow greeted them with a wry grin as he grabbed a plate to fill up with the food that had been set out. “It’s pretty cold today, huh?”

The knights exchanged glances amongst each other, clearly caught off guard by the thief’s forwardness.

He purposefully ignored their discomfort. “This looks good,” he whistled, filling up his plate and then moving to sit down nearby them.

“We have rations here,” one of the knights growled, noticing the amount of food the thief had taken for himself.

“Why?” Crow shrugged carelessly, popping a bite of food into his mouth. “You’ve got enough food stock to last all of you through at least one season.” He casted the knight a sly look. “I should know. I’ve looked through it many times.”

“Why, you—” another knight curled his lip at him, but his comrade placed a hand on his shoulder to get his attention and then shook his head warningly.

Crow’s eyes flicked between them with interest. It seemed that some of the knights were barely holding back from swinging at him, while others were trying to remind their more hot-tempered companions that they couldn’t touch him. He wondered how far he could push them before someone snapped. “You know, this [i]is[/i] good,” he mused, pretending to talk to himself, although he spoke audibly enough that any of the nearby knights could hear him. “But I think I like the feasts at the castle better. Those dishes had seasoned venison in them.”

The knights’ expressions turned astonished as he brought up the food he’d been given by the king. It was clear that they were surprised to learn he’d been given such lofty accommodations by their ruler. He decided to push just a little more. “Maybe if you give me a good reason to, I could put in a good word for you with the king and ask him to improve your next shipment of supplies,” he said with a devilish smirk.

“Cur,” one of the knights spat, only to be elbowed sharply in the side by another man. He shot his comrade a frustrated look and then averted his gaze, muttering something under his breath that the thief didn’t catch.

Crow snickered, eyeing them all with amusement. He could tell that many of them were struggling to keep a handle on their tempers after his comment about speaking for them to the king. They probably despised the thought of needing a criminal to do anything for them on their behalf. However, he decided to not to continue prodding at them. While it was fun to get a rise out of the nobles, he wasn’t looking to start a fight, and he had a feeling the situation might escalate if he opened his mouth again. So, he settled down comfortably with his back against a tree and proceeded to finish his breakfast in silence as he waited for Penelope to wake up and join him.