When Crow got back to his room, he took a quick look around and then let out his breath in relief when he saw that Udolf wasn’t there yet. He had been a little worried that since he had taken some extra time to walk with Penelope, he would be late for his next lesson. Fortunately, it seemed like he wasn’t going to get another lecture on tardiness from the tutor today.

He paused by the door, thinking something over, before he stepped over to his bed and stowed the box with the journal and quill beneath one of the large, decorative pillows. Though he knew there was probably no reason for him to hide his possessions in the palace, it had become a bit of a habit for him to do so after he’d lived his whole life either alone or living amongst thieves who might go through his things. He liked to keep his possessions to himself, and since he was going to be using the supplies Udolf would bring for him for the lesson, there was no reason to let the old man know that he had his own writing utensils now.

Once he felt like the box was secure, he moved to the table and sat down, unraveling the scroll that he had used the day before. Since he was early for once, he decided there was no point in wasting his time by waiting for Udolf to arrive. However, he barely had time to look over the characters on the parchment before the door opened and the tutor stepped inside.

Crow looked up to see that the old man was looking at him with one brow raised in surprise.

“Well, well,” Udolf mused as he approached the table. “It’s good to see that you’re finally taking your studies seriously.”

“That’s because you’re finally teaching me something I want to learn,” Crow shrugged.

Udolf smirked. “Now, if you could just apply this enthusiasm to the rest of your lessons, we may start seeing some results.”

“Are the other lessons going to cover subjects I like?”

“We’ll find out, won’t we?” Udolf answered vaguely. He looked over the scroll in the viceroy’s hands. “To start, show me how much you remember from yesterday’s lesson.”

Crow nodded, familiar with the routine. He picked up a quill from table and dipped it in the ink, taking a slow breath as he focused on reciting the letters from his memory. The quill moved fastidiously over the paper, marking down the individual symbols while he vocalized the sounds that each one represented as he wrote them. He made a few mistakes when he mixed up some of the characters—‘B’ and ‘D’ were especially hard to keep straight—but overall, Udolf seemed impressed with what he’d been able to recall.

“Very good indeed,” the tutor nodded when the viceroy finished writing out all the letters for the third time in a row. He’d gotten them all right this time. “I would say you’re ready to move on to reading.”

“What will I be reading?” Crow asked, looking over the stacks of books on the table with newfound curiosity. For his whole life, the words on their pages had been incomprehensible to him, but now it felt like a whole new world was opening up. He felt nearly as excited as he had the first time he’d held a conversation with a man from Waithen as a child. Written word was a language in and of itself, and he was determined to become fluent in it.

“I haven’t decided,” Udolf said as he absently picked up one of the books and flipped through the pages. “Since you have a broader vocabulary than the children I’ve taught in the past, the books I’ve given them wouldn’t be challenging enough for you.” He set down the book in his hands and picked up another. “But at the same time, most of the more advanced books may yet have words beyond your comprehension… Something in the middle will have to do.”

Crow watched as the tutor went through a few more books before he finally stopped at one with a dark red leather binding. Though it was clearly old, it didn’t look quite as worn as the others, and the spine still creaked when the old man opened it. The viceroy guessed it hadn’t been read very much in its lifetime.

“This one should be a good fit,” Udolf said approvingly as he skimmed the pages. “And I believe you’ll find the content… interesting.” He closed the book again and handed it to Crow. “Try reading the title out loud. It’s on the first page.”

The viceroy looked the book over with intrigue, wondering what the tutor had picked for him. Following the old man’s instruction, he opened it to the first page and studied characters that made up the title. As he did, his heartbeat quickened with excitement. The symbols that were once foreign to him had meaning now. All that was left was to string them into words.

He narrowed his eyes slightly as he examined the letters, focusing intently to draw meaning out of them. It took some time for him to figure out the pronunciation in his head—since some of the characters represented more than one sound, he used trial and error until the words made sense to him—but after a short time, he raised his brow in recognition.

“[i]The Legend of Uierr and Laphdeus[/i],” he read aloud, looking up at Udolf in mild surprise. Uierr and Laphdeus were the sibling gods of day and night as well as of prosperity and famine. Legend had it that the two brothers were locked in perpetual combat, and the outcomes of their fights determined whether a harvest would be bountiful or a winter would be long. He had often heard the farmers in the outer villages pray and leave offerings to Uierr whenever they feared that a famine was coming.

“Excellent,” Udolf said approvingly when the viceroy spoke the book’s title correctly. “I know you villagers are quite fond of the gods, so I’m sure you’ll enjoy learning more about them.”

Crow couldn’t help but laugh at that. “I was a criminal before. Do you really think I prayed to any gods?”

“Perhaps not,” the tutor admitted. “But I know they are still deeply ingrained in your culture.”

“I suppose so,” Crow shrugged, looking down at the book again. He wasn’t sure how Udolf knew anything about peasant culture, but the old man was right that the gods were an important part of it. Ever since he was a child, he had been told stories about them and had been taught by other villagers that it was important to pray and leave offerings to please the deities that watched over Brerra. Of course, having adopted the life of a thief, he had never followed any of their advice, but he could still recite all the tales and rituals he’d been taught by heart.

“I would like to review your etiquette once today,” Udolf went on. “After that, you will spend the rest of your lesson reading that book. The practice will help you get faster at interpreting written words.”

“Alright,” Crow nodded. He set the book down on the table and stood up, eager to get the boring part of his lesson over with so that he could focus on his literacy. Now that he was able to read at least somewhat, he was determined to master the skill as soon as he could.

--

The rest of the day went by smoothly. As usual, Crow recited his etiquette without any mistakes, and Udolf left him early to read in peace, since he was capable enough now at figuring out the words in the book without help.

Once he was alone, the viceroy laid back on his bed, settling down comfortably and holding the book over his head. Though he would never admit it to Udolf, the content [i]was[/i] interesting to him. He already knew most of the legend about Uierr and Laphdeus, but he found that there were some details he had never heard before. They had probably gotten lost with time as generations of peasants passed the tale down orally. The viceroy found it fascinating how stories and information could be permanently recorded on the pages of books without losing any pieces. He wondered what other gaps he had in his knowledge from missing details or being told incorrect versions of the truth.

Crow continued working slowly through the pages of the book, unaware of the passage of time as he focused on finding meaning in the words. At some point, he must have fallen asleep, because the next thing he was aware of was the feeling of a hand on his arm.

The viceroy startled, his eyelids fluttering open to see Preston standing at his side. The book he had been reading laid open on his chest and his right hand rested limply on top of it.

“It’s time for supper,” the attendant said in a low voice. He seemed nervous, probably because of how Crow had reacted to being woken up in the past.

“Is it?” Crow yawned broadly and sat up, setting his book down at his side. He took a moment to stretch his legs before he slid down from the bed and put his boots back on.

Preston shuffled his feet, “Well, supper actually started a little while ago, but you seemed tired, so I thought it would be best to let you keep sleeping.”

“Is food still being served?”

“Yes.”

“That’s all I care about,” Crow stretched his arms over his head as he headed for the door. “Come on. I’m starving.”