Walking through the long halls of the castle again, Crow squeezed out some more water from his still-wet hair. The guards he passed casted him disgusted looks, as if to say, “how dare this filth leave his bathwater on our hallowed floors,” but he ignored them. They had nothing to complain about. He’d done a rather thorough job washing himself in the pool, mostly because it had given him an excuse to linger in the warm water longer, so he was quite clean now.

After a while, he realized Hunter and Preston were taking him back to his room. They had entered a part of the castle that was familiar to him and had begun going up higher. As they headed up the spiral staircase that led to the upper level of the palace, he casted a wistful glance over his shoulder. “When do I get breakfast?” he asked, resting a hand on his empty stomach. “I’m hungry.”

The two attendants exchanged a wide-eyed glance, as if they had just realized that he hadn’t eaten anything yet. “Um, after we finish the preparations, I can get you something from the kitchen,” Preston offered.

“Or,” Crow proposed. “You could get me something to eat now, so I’ll continue to be cooperative during the rest of these preparations.”

The servants exchanged another look. “It shouldn’t take too much longer,” Preston tried again. “Your bath was the longest part.”

“Yes, but I’d like to eat now,” Crow said hotly.

“I’ll get a plate for you,” Hunter volunteered suddenly. He casted a subtle shrug toward Preston before turning to head back down the stairs. “Just keep getting ready. I’ll be back with your breakfast soon.”

“Thank you,” Crow nodded gratefully. Now that the matter had been settled in his favor, he followed after Preston more willingly.

When they got back to his room, Crow made his way over to where he’d left his clothes on the floor, assuming that the attendants would want him to get dressed for the ceremony. However, before he reached them, he heard the boy clear his throat. “Over here first,” Preston said when the thief turned to look at him, gesturing to the dresser with the mirror that he had found before. Now, there was a chair set up in front of it, along with some items on the flat top of the furniture that he didn’t look at closely enough to recognize.

“What else is there to do?” Crow eyed him quizzically as he walked over to sit in front of the mirror.

Preston picked up one of the objects on the table and held it out to him, “Shave.”

Crow blinked and looked down to see that the boy was holding out a small copper blade. It looked like it had been recently sharpened. “Why?” he queried. “I’ve seen plenty of noblemen with much longer beards than I have.”

“It’s part of the ceremony,” Preston answered simply. “You need to look more presentable and less like you just came down from a mountain.”

Once again, the boy’s flippant attitude caught the thief off guard. [i]This kid’s lucky he got assigned to work for me instead of someone who would whip him for those remarks,[/i] he mused as he plucked the blade from his hand. “Fine,” he shot the attendant a teasing smirk. “Only because you asked me so nicely.”

Turning back to the mirror, he took a moment to study his reflection in its glassy surface. Though he wouldn’t admit it out loud, he could see what Preston had meant when he’d said he looked like he’d been living on a mountain. His beard wasn’t that long, but it was definitely a bit wild. He lifted a hand to his chin in thought. He hadn’t realized it until now, but, thinking back, he supposed he hadn’t shaved since before his first encounter with Jaxon. In the time since then, he’d let himself go more than he would have liked.

Deciding it was worth the effort after all, Crow lifted the copper razor to his cheek and worked carefully on trimming down his facial hair. It took some time to finish—he was a bit meticulous with a blade so close to his skin—but after a bit of effort, he managed to reduce his beard down so that the hair was just slightly longer than a stubble.

“This is as short as I’m going to go,” he said stubbornly, catching Preston’s frown reflected in the mirror.

The attendant hesitated for a moment before he shrugged, “At least you don’t look feral anymore.”

Crow rolled his eyes and set down the razor just before a knock sounded at the door. Preston trotted over and opened it for Hunter, who stepped into the room with a plate piled high with food in one hand and a drink goblet in the other.

At the sight of him, Crow let out an exaggerated sigh, “Gods bless.” He stood up from his chair and stepped over to the table, where the older servant began setting down his breakfast.

“Eat quickly, sir,” Hunter said with a slight dip of his head as he stood back to let the thief get to his meal. “We don’t have much more time before the ceremony begins, and there are still preparations left to complete.”

“You don’t have to tell me twice,” Crow grinned as he took a seat in front of his plate. Ceremony or no ceremony, he always ate his food with the zeal of a starving man. Today was no different. He tore off a piece of rye bread in his hands and popped a bite into his mouth. Meanwhile, the two attendants worked on cleaning up the spot in front of the mirror where he had shaved, readying it for whatever else they had planned for him that morning.