The following morning, Crow was roused from his sleep earlier than he would have liked. He groaned and rolled over on his bed, pulling his pillow over his face to muffle the faint voices coming from beyond his room. Vaguely, he wondered who was making such a ruckus so early in the day, but he was too tired to get up and look. He wished they would be quiet. There was barely any light coming in through the window, so he wanted to get some more sleep while he still could.

Unfortunately, it seemed like that wasn’t going to happen.

He groaned again when he heard his door open, admitting someone into his room. Peeking out from beneath his pillow, he saw Preston standing near the door. The attendant looked distraught and made no move to help him get ready for the day as he usually did. His tenseness set the viceroy on edge. What could possibly be going on that would have him so frazzled?

“Do you know what all this noise is about?” Crow complained, sitting up and rubbing his eyes.

Preston shifted his weight, “You really don’t know?”

“If I knew, then why would I waste both of our time by asking?” Crow muttered dryly.

The attendant eyed him for a moment longer before he answered, “Three people came forward today claiming that their belongings went missing. They think it was you.”

“They [i]what[/i]?” the viceroy gawked at him. “I haven’t touched so much as a copper coin since I got here. Why would they think it was me?”

“Well, given your reputation…”

Crow scoffed. “I may have a history of thieving, but I’m not so stupid that I would risk going back to prison for a pretty piece of jewelry.” Suddenly feeling frustrated, he climbed down from his bed and stepped over to the wardrobe to get dressed.

“Where are you going?”  Preston fidgeted nervously.

“To clear my name,” Crow growled, fumbling slightly with his belt in his haste to confront the jeering nobles.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Preston said warily. “They’ve gotten everyone pretty riled up. If you show your face right now, they might just come after you without thinking.”

“I don’t care,” the viceroy said stubbornly. “I’m not just going to hide in my room while there are people out there trying to ruin the reputation I’ve been working so hard on. I haven’t stolen a single damn thing as long as I’ve been here. I think I deserve praise for restraining myself, not these baseless accusations.”

“I-I mean, that’s not a bad point, but—”

“Stay here if you’d like,” Crow said as he finished lacing up his boots. He marched over to the door and pulled it open. “But you can’t convince me to wait around with you. I’ll be back when I’ve redeemed my name.” Without waiting for a reply, he stepped into the corridor and closed the door behind him.

Walking briskly toward the stairs, the viceroy muttered under his breath about lying nobles. The guards he passed casted him cautious looks, likely believing the story that he had been stealing around the castle. He snarled at them as he walked by. He was fed up with their constant distrust of him. It would have been one thing if he had actually robbed someone, but he had been careful to keep his hands to himself since he’d been made the king’s ambassador. He didn’t deserve the leery gazes they sent him.

Just as he was about to reach the stairs, another guard blocked his path. “Where do you think you’re going?” the knight asked sharply, as if he was trying to escape.

“To pitch my two cents. Where do you think?” Crow tossed his head. “Now let me through.”

“I can’t do that,” the guard stood firmly. “Not until we find out whether you’re guilty.”

“I’m [i]trying[/i] to help with that,” Crow took a step closer to the other man and curled his lip. “Move it. I outrank you, so you have to listen to me.” He didn’t like to use his title to goad others into listening to him, but at the moment, he was too frustrated to let his morals guide his actions.

The guard faltered slightly but didn’t budge. “I can’t do that,” he repeated, almost as if he was trying to reassure himself.

Feeling a pang of annoyance, Crow opened his mouth to speak a few choice words to the knight, but he didn’t get a chance as a new voice spoke up.

“You can let [i]me[/i] pass.”

The viceroy turned around to see his father approaching with another guard. “Thank gods,” he sighed, waving a hand at the knight in front of the stairs. “He won’t let me through.”

Albin looked between him and the guard, who was now fidgeting uncomfortably in the presence of his ruler, and exhaled. “That’s probably for the best.”

“What?” Crow’s eyes widened in surprise.

“You’ll have your chance to defend yourself,” his father said. “I’ll make sure of that. However, for now, it would be best if you stay away from the crowd. Anything you try to say will just make them angrier.”

“But I—”

“Collin,” the sharpness in his father’s tone made him flinch. “I will handle the situation downstairs. You will stay put here. Is that clear?”

Crow set his jaw, tempted to argue with the king, but after a moment, he averted his gaze in reluctant defeat. “Yes,” he grumbled, glaring at the wall.

“Good,” Albin nodded. He signaled to the guard at his side and then headed down to the furious crowd, leaving his son behind to listen from the top of the stairs.