Crow casted a subtle, wistful glance at Penelope as he joined Wayne and Mercia at their table. When he’d agreed to eat with the nobleman, he hadn’t expected to be meeting another member of his family. It wasn’t a long shot to guess what Wayne’s intentions were either. Judging by the elaborate—and slightly low-cut—dress Mercia was wearing along with her brother’s blatant excitement, the viceroy felt quite certain that they were here to try and coerce him into a courtship.

He looked the noblewoman over. It was difficult to tell how she felt about the setup. Though she was dressed the part, she didn’t express the same excitement as Wayne did. Her face was an unreadable mask, displaying no strong emotion and drawing the image of a doll to the viceroy’s mind once again. Overall, she reminded him of the stereotypical, “prim and proper” woman that nobles seemed to value above all others—the kind he was least fond of.

Mercia glanced at her brother, who gestured at her indiscreetly to speak, and then met Crow’s gaze with a delicate smile. Every part of her looked like it could shatter with just a rough touch. “It’s an honor to meet you, Collin,” she said with a polite dip of her head.

“Um, you too,” Crow said uncertainly. He’d never interacted with someone as formal as this woman, so he didn’t have the first clue what to say to her.

“Mercia’s been wanting to speak with you for a while,” Wayne jumped in for his soft-spoken sister. “When she found out I know you, she asked me to arrange for you both to meet.”

[i]Bullshit,[/i] Crow thought blandly when he caught sight of the noblewoman’s faint wince. Mercia had nothing to do with this. In fact, she probably disliked him just as much as every other noble in the castle. Wayne had most likely set the whole thing up in the hopes of using them both to advance the Cardonell family name. Still, in the interest of holding onto one of the few decent—albeit fake—relationships he had with another nobleman, the viceroy decided to play along with the little game.

“Is that so?” he mused, turning back to the woman across from him. She nodded unconvincingly, and he flashed her a friendly smile. “Alright then, tell me about yourself.”

Mercia blinked, seeming caught off guard by the personal question. “Well,” she started slowly. “I’m nineteen years of age, and my father is offering a sizeable dowry for my hand in marriage—”

“No, no, no,” Crow waved his hand. “I don’t want numbers. I want to hear about who you are.” He leaned forward, resting his arms on the table in a relaxed posture. Even though he had no intention whatsoever of pursuing a courtship with the woman, he was at least willing to hold a decent conversation with her. Unfortunately, it seemed like that was much easier said than done as she stared at him blankly. If he didn’t know better, he would have guessed that she’d never been asked about herself by someone else before.

“Alright, I’ll make this easy for you,” he smirked. “What do you do for fun around here?”

Mercia’s eyes darted back to her brother, as if she’d been given a script and didn’t know what to say now that the conversation had gone a different direction than what she’d expected. Wayne just shrugged at her in response.

“I… like to journal,” she finally answered in a meek voice, fiddling with her dress beneath the table. “There’s a window in my room that overlooks a grassy hill just beyond the castle. I find it peaceful to sit in front of it and write about my day.”

[i]Gods, everything about this woman is boring,[/i] Crow thought to himself, though he feigned interest in what she was saying with a nod. “What else?” he prompted to keep the conversation going. Off to his side, he could see Wayne watching them eagerly. It seemed that the nobleman believed they were getting along just as he’d wanted. The viceroy only hoped he wouldn’t be too disappointed when he turned down the offer to court his sister later.