Crow could feel Preston’s eyes on him as they walked through the halls of the castle. Even though the attendant had been willing to drop the subject before, he knew the boy was trying to come up with a way to bring it back up again. He hoped he would just read the mood and give up, because the last thing he wanted was to think about his dream again. It was still too fresh in his mind. He could still see the bloody corpses of the villagers of Tamsworth and Jaxon’s cruel sneer as if they were right in front of him. He shuddered at the thought, letting his eyes wander over the tapestries in the corridor as he tried to distract himself from the grisly image.

Unfortunately, Preston wasn’t very good at reading the atmosphere.

“So, why [i]did[/i] you scream earlier?” the attendant pressed tentatively. He seemed to have decided on a direct approach, since he couldn’t come up with a gentler way to address the subject.

Crow shook his head. “It was nothing,” he lied. “Don’t worry about it.”

“People don’t scream for no reason—not like that,” Preston insisted, studying him with a concerned expression. “Even the closest guards heard you. They wanted to go to your room, but I told them to let me go first, because, well… you know.” He shrugged, and the viceroy nodded, understanding that the servant had been cautious to make sure he wouldn’t get caught for sneaking out the night before. Even though he was chagrined that the guards had heard him, he was grateful that the attendant had been smart enough to keep them from barging into his bedchamber before he’d had a chance to disassemble the cord they had built.

“The point is,” Preston went on as he got back on track. “I know it wasn’t ‘nothing,’ and I want to help you if—”

“It’s nothing you can help with then,” Crow said sharply and then winced, averting his gaze. He hadn’t meant to speak to the boy so harshly. “Sorry. I just don’t want to talk about it, so can we please drop the subject?”

Preston’s shoulders fell slightly, and he gave a meek nod, “Alright.”

“Thank you,” Crow murmured.

The two spent the rest of the walk to the Great Hall in uncomfortable silence. When they arrived, the viceroy looked over the room to see if he could find anyone he knew. He’d left his bedchamber rather late that morning because of how long it had taken him and Preston to put the linen sheets away, so he doubted Naida was still there. However, even though his sister was absent, he caught sight of Penelope sitting at a table nearby.

He took a step toward her, eager to seek her company while he was still feeling distraught, but then stopped when he recognized the nobleman she was sitting with. As his eyes landed on Cedric’s face, he bristled slightly. The memory of what the other man had done to the knight before was still fresh in his mind, and he wasn’t sure how to act around him. That plus his current emotional state left him far from enthused by the idea of spending a meal with the noble.

He shifted his weight from his right foot to his left, weighing the choice of going to Penelope and putting up with Cedric or spending the morning without her to avoid the nobleman’s company. Perhaps if he had been in a better frame of mind he would have still jumped at the chance to be with her, but at the moment, he found the latter option a bit more appealing.

So, instead of approaching her, he wavered by the door, looking over the Great Hall for an empty table to sit by himself.