When Crow got to the Great Hall, he was quick to notice that neither Naida or Penelope were there. He was a bit disappointed, but it wasn’t too surprising. He remembered that the knight had some sort of meeting with a baron in the evening, and his sister normally arrived at the beginning of every meal. She had probably already eaten and returned to her room for the night. Since he had slept in, it had been unlikely for him to run into either of them.

He made his way over to an empty table and sat down while Preston walked off to the kitchen to bring out his dinner. For a short time, he rested his arms on the table and entertained himself by watching the other nobles in the room. Some of them still casted him occasional glares, but for the most part, they seemed to be ignoring him. He wondered if that meant they were finally starting to tire of hating him or if they were just learning to be more discreet about it. Either way, he was glad that they weren’t as openly hostile as they had been before.

After a bit, Crow grew bored of watching the other people, so he reached into his tunic pocket. Having suspected that he was going to be eating alone, he had brought along the book Udolf had given him, so he could spend the evening practicing his reading instead of sitting idly. It took him some time to figure out what page he had ended on earlier, since he had fallen asleep, but after some searching, he found a sentence that looked familiar to him.

Crow read until Preston returned with his food, only looking up when the attendant set his plate down in front of him. “Thanks,” he said absently, lowering his gaze to the book again as he tried to decipher an especially long word.

“Of course,” Preston dipped his head and proceeded to test the viceroy’s food. As he did, he glanced at the book in his hand. “I don’t see any pictures on those pages. Are you able to read now?”

Crow shrugged, “Technically, yes. But I wouldn’t call myself literate.” He tilted his head slightly, as if changing the angle of the word he was looking at would make its meaning clearer to him. “It takes me a long time to figure out what I’m reading.”

“I can tell,” Preston studied him amusedly.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Crow looked up at the boy with narrowed eyes.

“You keep squinting at that book like it’s full of puzzles,” the attendant said simply.

Crow stared at him for a moment before he burst out in a short laugh.

“What?” Preston frowned.

“Nothing,” the viceroy shook his head. “You just said something that reminded me of someone I used to know.” He looked down at the book again and then widened his eyes as the word he had been trying to read suddenly clicked in his head. “[i]Convalescing[/i]?” he muttered to himself, wrinkling his nose. “Gods, that word doesn’t look at all like I thought it would.”

“Con-what?” Preston leaned a little closer. “What are you reading?”

“It’s a record about the gods Uierr and Laphdeus,” Crow answered. “This part is about the time when Laphdeus poisoned his brother. Since Uierr is immortal, he didn’t die, but he spent the following year convalescing in solitude, and the world suffered a great famine while he was gone.”

“Oh, I remember that story,” Preston nodded. “It was the only time mankind gave offerings to Laphdeus, right? To beg him to lift his curse from their crops.”

“Yeah,” Crow looked up at the attendant with interest. Since they had met in the castle, he often forgot that Preston came from the same village and had grown up with the same stories he had. It was nice to have someone else around who came from the same peasant culture. Even though most of the other servants in the palace were commoners too, most of them had been born in the inner kingdom and had never even set foot in the outer villagers. It was rather fortunate that Albin had sent him this boy, who had not only been born on the border but also shared his home village, Myrefall.

“Why don’t you spend supper with me?” Crow offered with a smile, gesturing to the open bench across from him.

Preston glanced over his shoulder at the nobles in the Great Hall before turning back to the viceroy. “Alright,” he said quietly. “I’ll get my food.”

As the attendant walked away, Crow dug into his portion of dinner. He was glad that Preston hadn’t fought him on it this time. It seemed that the boy was getting used to the fact that he didn’t follow the same rules and traditions as everyone else, which was good news for both of them, since it also meant they would probably butt heads less in the future.

For the rest of the meal, Crow and Preston spoke about the legends they had been told in the outer villages when they were younger, comparing the versions they knew and exchanging stories the other hadn’t heard before. The viceroy found the conversation to be strangely comforting. It reminded him of the things he used to speak with other peasants about back home. By the end of it, he felt a bit nostalgic but also more relaxed than he had been in a while.

He was so caught up in the moment that he almost didn’t see Penelope come into the Great Hall.

When the knight entered the room, Crow looked up in surprise. He’d thought she had said she was going to eat dinner with a baron, so he hadn’t thought she would be stopping by to get food here. He was also confused by the briskness of her pace. She almost looked flighty to him, but perhaps she had just been worried that she had missed supper? Either way, he was excited to know he hadn’t missed her. He raised his hand to get her attention, hoping she would see him and know he hadn’t left yet.