When Crow finished his breakfast, Hunter ushered him back over to the chair he’d been sitting in before so the attendants could keep helping him prepare for the ceremony. By now, he’d realized that when they had said “prepare” they had meant that they didn’t think his appearance was presentable enough to show to an audience and that he needed to work on it. He found the notion annoying. Having never done anything to alter his appearance in the past—aside from shaving for his own preference and occasionally taking a knife to his hair when it grew too long—he thought their efforts to clean him up were unnecessary. But then again, so was everything else in the castle. Nobles went to so much extra work just to keep up public appearances when it was far easier to ignore what other people thought.

Of course, it seemed that shaving wasn’t enough for the servants. As soon as he sat down again, Preston offered him an ivory comb. “I assume you know what to do with this,” he said.

“Of course I do,” Crow snorted, snatching the comb from his hand. It seemed like after he’d asked about the soap in the bathhouse, the boy felt the need to make sure he knew about other common items as well. He found it rather demeaning. He wasn’t a fool; of course he knew what a comb was. While he’d never owned one of his own, he had stolen a quite a few from nobles in the inner kingdom during past raids. Many of them had been embedded with jewels that fetched a high price among wandering merchants.

He ran the ivory teeth through his hair, wincing slightly as they caught on the coarse tangles that had formed from years of neglect. Though he’d stolen combs before, he had hardly ever bothered to use them, so he wasn’t used to the tugging. He proceeded a bit more carefully as he worked through the matted areas.

It took some time for him to finish, since his hair was thick and hadn’t been tended to in a long time, but eventually, he set the comb down again and turned back to the attendants. “Anything else?” he asked with mild impatience, growing tired of all the maintenance they were having him do on his appearance.

“All that’s left is for you to get dressed,” Preston answered.

“Thank the gods,” Crow muttered. He stood up from his chair and stepped over to his discarded clothes, reaching down to pick up his tunic. However, Preston intervened.

“You can’t wear those clothes to a ceremony,” the boy shook his head quickly, hurrying over to gather the thief’s clothes before he could get to them.

“I don’t own anything else,” Crow pointed out blandly.

“I brought you some of the king’s clothes,” Hunter spoke up. As the thief turned to him in surprise, he shifted his weight. “His Majesty permitted you to take them, since he has more than enough for himself and…” he wavered slightly. “You both seem to have similar physiques.” He stepped over to a large wardrobe and opened the door to reveal that half of it had been stocked full of a variety of expensive looking clothes.

The attendant withdrew a pair of trousers and a plain shirt and then passed them off to Crow, “Here. These should fit you.”

Crow took the clothes with a faint burst of relief. After seeing all the elaborate garments in the wardrobe, he’d been worried that the servants were going to force him into something gaudy. The beige shirt and black trousers suited him much better than the other ridiculous ensembles. He pulled off the white linens he had been wearing and changed into the new clothes without complaint.

Once he was done, Hunter looked him over with a keen eye. “They fit nicely,” he nodded approvingly.

“Good,” Crow said absently, taking a step towards where he’d left his boots. However, he didn’t get any further before Hunter spoke again.

“I think this will suit you.” Crow turned around again and knitted his brows confusedly as he saw the attendant holding up more clothes.

“Perhaps I’ll try that on another day,” he shrugged and gestured to his body. “But as you can see, I’m already dressed.”

Off to the side, Preston snickered softly. “You can’t attend your own ceremony in just an undershirt.”

Crow blinked and looked down at the shirt he was wearing. It looked just like any other shirt a man would wear in the outer villages, but apparently it must not have been good enough for noblemen’s standards. “Why not?” he asked. “I don’t see anything wrong with it.”

“On any other day, it would be fine,” Hunter explained, offering him the deep red shirt he had been suggesting earlier. “But for a ceremony, you’re going to have to dress a little finer.”

“Why is there a rule for everything?” Crow groaned. Reluctantly, he took the shirt from Hunter’s arms and slid it on over the one he was already wearing. As expected, it fit him perfectly. He straightened out the sleeves and rolled his shoulders, letting the fabric settle comfortably over his upper body. He’d never worn two shirts like this before, but he supposed it wasn’t unbearable. Although, he was fortunate that it was late in the fall, otherwise he would have been quite warm.

Preston and Hunter eyed him from where they were standing. “Well, he certainly doesn’t look like a peasant anymore,” the boy said amusedly.

Hunter nodded, “I’m sure the king will be pleased.”

Crow rolled his eyes and walked over to the edge of the bed to put on his boots. This time, there was no objection. As he slid them onto his feet, his heart fluttered slightly in his chest with a sudden nervous anticipation. All the preparations were done. The only thing left was the ceremony itself. The thought of it made him feel anxious, and he had to force himself not to let his unease show on his face.

“Yes, great,” he muttered sarcastically, hoping a bit of banter with the servants would take his mind off his worries. “You made the criminal look like a noble. I’m sure you’re quite pleased with yourselves.”

“I am,” Preston volunteered shamelessly.

“Come on,” Hunter said once the thief had put on his boots. “We need to bring you to the king now. The ceremony will be starting soon.”

Crow nodded wordlessly, biting his tongue. [i]No turning back now,[/i] he thought with a sigh, following after the attendants as they took him to see his father.