“I’ll try,” Crow assured Penelope when she asked him to start thinking of a guest list for the party. He had a feeling Naida was going to be far more useful than he could be when it came to preparations for the event, but he would do his best to help regardless. There were already a few people who came to mind to invite, such as Wayne and Percival, and he could always tell them to bring more members of their families. As much as he disliked it, he knew he could go to the noblewomen who had been trying to get his attention too. It wouldn’t be very enjoyable to dodge around them at the party, but if any of them would offer their support to end the war, then the discomfort would be worth it.

Once Penelope walked off, Crow stood up from the table as well, stretching lazily before he headed off to his father’s chambers for his next lesson. Tired from the long morning, he wasn’t looking forward to spending another whole afternoon on his studies, but he knew he didn’t have a choice. He made a mental note to remind Albin about the day off he’d mentioned before, hoping that the king was still willing to give it to him even though it hadn’t been brought up in a while. The thought of taking an afternoon to nap instead of read was exciting, and he couldn’t wait to feel well-rested again.

Daydreaming about the prospect, the viceroy made it to his father’s bedchamber in good time. He knocked on the door, waiting for the king’s servant to answer before he stepped inside. Like before, Albin was seated at the long table in the middle, while the queen sat off to the side, being waited on by a number of female servants. After seeing her do the same thing yesterday, Crow was beginning to think her routine was pointless. She had gotten dressed up quite extravagantly and then stayed in the room with her husband all day long. He wasn’t sure who she was trying to impress, unless the king simply liked to look at her all day. He nearly cringed at the mental image and made his way over to join Albin, hoping to distract himself.

“I see you’ve gotten better about being punctual,” his father noted with a pleased smile as Crow sat down beside him. “Are you starting to enjoy your lessons?”

“Sometimes,” Crow answered with an honest shrug. “It depends on the subject. Gorman is an interesting language though, so I do like these ones.”

“I’m glad to hear it,” Albin nodded. “I hope this means you’ll pick it up quickly as well.”

Crow hesitated. “Me too.”

The king, sharp as ever, studied him closely, “Is everything alright?”

The viceroy blinked, realizing his mistake too late. “Yes,” he said slowly. “Sorry, I was just a bit distracted.”

Albin eyed him for a moment longer. “What’s on your mind?”

Crow shifted in his seat as he fumbled to think of an excuse. After a pause, he sighed, deciding he might as well tell the king some part of the truth. “Well,” he started, looking up to meet his father’s gaze. “I’m still concerned that we should be seeking a more peaceful solution to this war… There are plenty of people who want to see it end—”

“And it will,” Albin held up a hand. “As soon as you go to Gorm to enlist their king’s help.”

Crow bit the inside of his lip, tempted to push his point more, but decided against it. Toreus had visited Penelope, after all, not him. It wasn’t his job to convince the king to seek a different solution. He lowered his gaze to the papers in front of him. “What will I be learning today?” he asked quietly, pushing his unease aside to focus on the task at hand.

“To start, I’m going to have you rehearse what I taught you yesterday,” his father replied, seeming satisfied with the change of subject. He pulled out the scroll he had shown his son the day before. “Tell me which characters make what sounds.”

Crow let out his breath in a focusing exhale, sitting up a bit straighter as he complied with the assignment and began working on his next lesson in Gorman.