Crow’s head was swimming as he stood near the door he had stepped out of, unsure what to say or do. The silence in the room was deafening, and he nearly wanted to turn right around and walk back out the way he had come in. Through his daze, his eyes swept over the crowd of nobles, who all stared back at him with a mixture of confused and angry expressions. He tried to focus enough to find Penelope, but it was difficult since he also had to pay attention to keep his own features in check. Wracked with anxiety, he clenched his hands to keep them from shaking involuntarily. With so many eyes on him, he wasn’t going to let himself show any weakness—he couldn’t leave the nobles with that first impression.

[color=fdc68a][b]“This is outrageous! He’s a thief!”[/b][/color]

Suddenly, the thief flinched slightly at the sound of a furious voice. He turned to see an older man with sandy blonde hair glaring at him with venom. The fury in his tone made Crow wary, and he shifted his weight, instinctively preparing to run as the crowd erupted into dissent. At this point, it didn’t matter if he had the king’s protection or not. Even his father couldn’t stop this many people if they chose to come after him.

His eyes darted between the enraged faces of the nobles with a feral caution. However, in the next moment, he paused. It had taken some time, but he’d finally spotted Penelope amongst the small sea of people. He saw her offer him a smile, but the gesture did little to lessen his fear. If someone didn’t do something soon, he felt quite certain that the angry crowd was going to come at him.

Luckily, his father intervened.

“Silence,” he said loudly, rising to his feet from his throne—Crow noticed absently that his was the second one from the right, between Braden and the queen. Albin waited for the commotion to die down before he went on in an authoritative tone, “I understand your concerns, but please understand that this is not a decision I made lightly.” His calculating green eyes wandered over the nobles before he turned to Crow and gestured for him to come closer.

The thief wavered uncertainly for a moment before he complied. He glanced out at the audience as he stepped up to stand at the king’s right side, forcing himself to hold his hands at his sides despite his urge to fidget nervously with his clothing.

Albin casted him a subtle, approving nod before turning back to the crowd. “I know that Collin does not have an upstanding reputation among you, and I know many of you have personal reasons for disliking him. However,” he held up one hand as a few of the nobles began to jeer again. “His past does not negate the fact that he has every skill I require in my next viceroy. Despite his humble, uneducated upbringing, he has mastered the languages of every kingdom along our border.” He turned back to Crow with an expectant look, at which the thief realized the king was waiting for him to prove his point.

Crow shifted his weight uncomfortably. He didn’t want to draw any more attention to himself than he already had, but then again, what more did he have to lose? He was already despised by almost every person in the room. He supposed he might as well lean into it. After taking a moment to find his voice, he faced the room and spoke in fluent Medoran: [i]“Cremar-se a l'infern, porus porcinosos decorats.”[/i]

The king cracked an amused smile at his choice of phrase, and Crow blushed slightly. He had forgotten that his father, the former ambassador of Brerra, would have been able to understand what he was saying. Luckily, he didn’t seem offended though. Sneaking another glance at the nobles, he saw that they now just looked surprised. At least they weren’t screaming anymore. He preferred their confused looks and whispers compared to the rabid screaming they had been doing before.

Albin seemed pleased with the change as well. “As you can see, Collin has the talent to be my viceroy,” he went on. “To merely throw him in prison for his past crimes would be a waste of his valuable skills. That is why I have decided to give him the position.” He met the gazes of the audience with a hint of challenge in his eye, as if daring them to try and oppose him again. “Given enough time, I believe he has the potential to do great things for this kingdom, and all of you who live within its walls. Is there anyone who disagrees?”

Crow peeked at the audience again, but they stayed silent this time. Even the blonde man who had caused the last outburst didn’t open his mouth, although he was visibly trembling with rage.

“Good,” Albin nodded. “Now then, if there are no more objections, I will carry on with his titling.” He turned to Crow again. “Kneel.”

The thief hesitated. He had always disliked the thought of kneeling to anyone. It was a sign of submission to an authority, and he was not one to submit. However, he didn’t want to cause a scene after all the flattery his father had just showered over him, so he forced himself to swallow his pride and reluctantly dropped to one knee.

“Collin Lockton,” the king spoke with the same commanding voice he had used before. “I hereby relinquish you of your bounty along with any punishment for your past crimes under the condition that you will serve this kingdom and its people by fulfilling the duties to be assigned to you. Do you swear to uphold this commitment?”

Crow bit the inside of his lip. “I swear it,” he said after a brief pause.

“Then by my authority as your king, I dub you the Viceroy of Brerra. You may rise.”

Crow stood up, feeling lightheaded as the nobles in the audience began to applaud. He knew they were only doing so because they had to. There still wasn’t a single friendly face amongst them—well, aside from Penelope, but he had lost track of where she was a while ago. He was just glad the ceremony was over.

His father directed him to sit in the remaining throne that was positioned to the left of the queen—he realized it had been left empty because it was intended for the ambassador, and there hadn’t been one before he’d been given the title—and then addressed the crowd once more, “To celebrate our new viceroy, there will be a feast in the Great Hall starting promptly. Please make your way to the room and enjoy.” With that, he sat down again to speak patiently with his wife as the royal family—and Crow—stayed behind to wait for the nobles to exit the room.

[hider=quick translation]“Burn in hell, you pompous, decorated swine.”[/hider]