Crow watched Penelope walk away with a frown, wishing again that he could have had more time with her during breakfast. Gods knew he needed it after the morning he’d had. Unfortunately, it seemed that they had to go their separate ways once again as their lives in the castle diverged. He let out a quiet sigh. Nobility was so much busier than peasant life. He missed being able to live by his own rules on his own time. Compared to the freedom he had before, being a viceroy nearly felt strangling.

“Ready to go?” John grunted, his tone implying that his words were more of a command than a question.

Drawn from his thought, Crow turned to the knight and shrugged, “I suppose so.”

Of course, Penelope’s father said nothing in response. Instead, he wordlessly led the way out of the Great Hall, leaving the viceroy to follow in his wake.

--

The walk to the training grounds was uncomfortable, to say the least. Neither Crow nor John spoke a word as their traveled to the palace courtyard, where the former assumed his training session was going to take place that day. On the way, he was torn between leaving the silence between them unbroken and starting up some small talk, mostly for his own peace of mind. However, the latter choice won out, since he decided it would be even more uncomfortable to talk for the sake of hearing his own voice when the knight struck him as the type of man who enjoyed a good, long quiet. So, he spent the entirety of the short trip biting his tongue to keep from giving Penelope’s father any more reason to dislike him.

Only when they arrived in an open, flat area near the knights’ barracks outside did John finally break the silence.

“You’ll start with sword fighting,” the knight announced in his usual oh-so-friendly voice.

Behind him, Crow grimaced. With the memory of his nightmare still fresh in his mind, the last thing he wanted to do was pick up the weapon he had been killed with in his dreams. Regardless, he refused to voice his unease with the older man’s order. Though he would never say it out loud, John was one of the few people whose opinion mattered to him—at least a little bit. As such, he didn’t want to make a fuss and give off the impression that he was incompetent or weak.

Luckily, John didn’t seem to notice his hesitation. “First, we’ll need to find you a proper tool,” the knight went on, stepping over to a rack of various weapons near the edge of the clearing. After looking them over for a moment, he withdrew—much to the viceroy’s relief—a wooden sword. He pulled out a second one for himself before walking back and handing off one of the mock blades hilt-first. “We normally use these to teach children, but they should work for you just as well,” he said.

“I’m getting used to that,” Crow muttered as he accepted the wooden sword, thinking about the scrolls Udolf had used to teach noble children in the past. At first he had been chagrined by the knowledge that he was being taught with supplies meant for kids, but after a week of it, he had grown numb to the embarrassment. After all, it wasn’t his fault that he’d never had the education that noble children were raised with. He’d been too busy learning to steal to take care of his ailing mother.

“How much do you know of basic sword fighting?” John asked, taking a few steps back to put some distance between them.

“I’m not sure,” Crow answered with a frown as he looked over the tool in his hand. It was light—much lighter than the swords he’d stolen and used in the past—and maybe even a little bit smaller. It was certainly going to be easier to maneuver about than the real deal. He glanced up at the knight, “To be honest, I don’t think I know anything about proper sword fighting. I’ve sort of just used whatever worked for me in the moment.”

“Then we’ll start from the top,” John said decisively. “I’ll teach you a few simple moves that will become the foundation for the rest of your training.”

“Alright,” Crow tossed his wooden sword from his right hand to his left and back again, smirking at the older man with a hint of challenge in his pale green eyes. Even though he knew next to nothing about this particular skill, and he was still a little unnerved because of his dream, he enjoyed the prospect of testing himself. He wanted to find out how much better he could get with some real guidance instead of a few drunken night guards in the outer villages.

The viceroy pointed his blade at the knight, “Show me what you’ve got.”