As Penelope readied herself to climb down the wall, Crow found himself holding his breath with anticipation. He was confident that she could make it, but since she had never done anything like this before—at least, not to his knowledge—it was more dangerous for her than it had been for him. He had the practice and know-how to keep himself from falling if he lost his footing, but she wouldn’t have the same skills or level head when making her way down a vertical surface. He wouldn’t admit it to her out loud, but he was a little worried that she might slip and cause herself to panic.

When he had been a kid, his mother had taught him to climb by having him practice on short walls that were low enough to the ground that if he fell, he would just get the breath knocked out of him. Of course, being young and reckless, he had lost his footing a number of times before he was able to make it from top to bottom without any mistakes. He just hoped that since Penelope was more mature than he had been at the time—and, if he was honest, more mature than he was even now—she would have the sense to be more careful. Regardless, he still watched her closely, his body tense as he prepared to catch her if she did fall.

Fortunately, even though the knight moved more stiffly than he did, she managed to get down the wall without losing her footing, and he let out his breath in a silent sigh of relief. 

When she reached the window sill, Crow reached up to take her by the hand and guided her down into the room. He pressed a quick kiss to her cheek and squeezed her hand before letting go again. “That was great,” he whispered in her ear, casting her a fond smile in the dark. “And you don’t even have to worry about climbing back up later.”

Gently, he touched her arm to lead her quietly though the snoring nobleman’s room, making his way toward the door. Though he knew he could have crept past a lighter sleeper just as easily, he was glad they had been lucky enough to land in the bedchamber of someone in such deep slumber. Getting around him was much less stressful than creeping by someone who would wake at the creak of a floorboard. As long as neither of them bumped into anything, he knew they wouldn’t disturb the soundly sleeping man.

When they reached the door, the viceroy paused in front of it and leaned down to murmur to Penelope, “When we step outside, we need to head in opposite directions. I’ll walk away from the guards like I’m on my way to speak with someone else in this wing, and you go straight to them like I just gave you an order to relay.” He smirked at her wryly. “As long as we both act like we belong and don’t give them a reason to suspect us, I’m sure they won’t question anything.”

Without further delay, Crow turned back to the door and gripped the handle. He took a moment to envision the regal posture his father always took when he walked through the castle, squaring his shoulders to mimic it to the best of his ability. Once he felt confident that he had copied it well, he pulled open the door, imitating the king’s surefooted gait as he stepped into the hallway.