In his eagerness to meet back up with Penelope, Crow made good time going back to his bedchamber. Along the way, he noticed that the guards in the halls were eyeing him with more disgust than usual—they probably looked down on him for “sleeping” with Elizabeth when they weren’t even courting—but he ignored them. It wasn’t like he ever expected the knights to show him any respect that they weren’t already mandated to express because of his rank. If they wanted to believe the gossip about him, he couldn’t care less. The only ones he was concerned about were the high ranking nobles who could use their power to hurt Penelope’s name when they began courting officially.

Whether she cared or not, he didn’t want to become a stumbling block in her efforts to gain more influence in the castle. After hearing about her plans to help the people of the outer villages after the war’s end, he knew she was going to have to hold onto the power she had as a lieutenant, if not gain more to persuade more people to join her in bettering the peasants’ lives. It was already going to be difficult to come back from the fact that they didn’t have the most acceptable start to their relationship two years ago. If the other nobles thought he was just using her for her body or some other superficial reason, it would be even harder for him not to ruin her reputation when everyone else found out about them.

Deciding it was a problem for later, Crow pushed the thought aside and stepped into his room to look for a change of clothes. However, when he was inside, he found that he wasn’t alone. He blinked in surprise as his gaze landed on Preston, who was rifling through his wardrobe as if searching for something.

“Where have you been?” he asked, slightly surprised to see the attendant turn up out of nowhere after disappearing for a whole day.

Preston flinched at the sound of his voice and turned away from the open wardrobe, dropping down in a low bow. “I’m sorry,” he apologized quickly. “A personal matter came up that I had to attend to. I’ll be able to keep serving you soon.”

Crow studied him with a bemused frown before his eyes flicked to the wardrobe, “What were you looking for in there?”

The servant shuffled his feet, “Just one of the spare blankets… I promise I’ll return it.”

“I see,” the viceroy turned back to the boy as he realized he might know why he’d been acting so strange lately. Taking a shot, he asked: “So, how’s your sister doing?”

Preston visibly stiffened and lowered his gaze to the floor. “She’s not doing well,” he admitted in a soft voice. “The cold weather is starting to make her illness worse… It happens every winter. I was hoping that if I give her an extra blanket, her condition might improve, at least enough that she can get by without my help again.”

Crow fell quiet, feeling a pang of sympathy for the attendant. He’d never been upset with the boy’s disappearance, since he didn’t care if someone tended to him or not, but he had been concerned that something like this had happened. It seemed his hunch had been right. Without another word, he walked over to the wardrobe and began looking through it.

“What are you doing?” Preston asked nervously.

“Here,” the viceroy said, retrieving the thickest feather-filled blanket he could find and handing it off to the boy with a smile. “Take this one to your sister. I’m sure it’ll do her more good than it will sitting in a dark closet all day.”

Preston’s eyes widened, and he fumbled with the bedding in his haste to accept it. “T-Thank you,” he stammered, leaning forward in another bow. “I’ll bring it back as soon as I can.”

“Don’t worry about it, kid,” Crow waved his hand dismissively. “In fact, let her keep it. I spent most of my life with nothing more than a couple wool sheets and the clothes on my back to get through the winter season. The blankets that are already on my bed are more than enough to keep me warm.”

“Are you sure?” Preston frowned. “Most men of your rank like the extra blanket when it starts to snow.”

“The other men here are too soft for their own good,” he snorted. “A little discomfort every now and then would do them wonders. Please, take it. I insist.”

“If you’re sure…” Preston dipped his head again. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Crow said, turning back to the wardrobe to search for a change of clothes now that his attendant’s need had been taken care of.

Preston glanced at the door as if he was considering leaving, but then looked back at the viceroy, “Do you need something else while I’m here?”

“No,” Crow mused absently, shuffling through the clothing until he found a plain-looking, white undershirt. “You can go now.” He pulled the shirt down from its hanger and draped it over his shoulder as he continued to look for a cloak. For a moment, he wondered if his father had even given him one, since the king hadn’t planned to send him out of the castle for quite a while. However, his concern was quickly laid to rest when he spotted a hooded cloak in the back of the closet. It was dark in color—nearly black with a hint of maroon—and felt like it was made with a rather thick material that would keep him comfortably warm in a chill wind. Compared to the cloaks he’d worn in the outer villages, this one was quite a bit higher in quality. It might stand out if anyone looked at him closely enough, but he supposed there was nothing he could do about it since he didn’t have any other options.

“Are you going somewhere?” Preston, who was still lingering by the center of the room, asked curiously when he saw the cloak.

“Just for today,” Crow glanced at him. “I don’t have any lessons, so I’m going on a short trip with Penelope.”

“Oh,” the attendant watched him for a moment longer. “I take it you’re still on good terms with her after what happened then?”

“Of course,” the viceroy grinned at him, setting the clothes he’d selected down on his bed so he could change into them more easily. “She knows I wouldn’t sleep with someone else, so we’re just fine.”

“That’s good,” Preston nodded, tilting his head slightly. “I like you two together.”

“You’re one of the few then,” Crow rolled his eyes. He slipped off the tunic he had been wearing and replaced it with the plain shirt, throwing the cloak over top once he’d straightened it out.

“Yes, but I know she’s good for you,” the attendant said confidently. He bowed once more, “Have a good trip, wherever you’re going.”

“Thanks,” Crow smiled, appreciative of the servant’s support. Having been surrounded almost constantly by people who didn’t want them to be together, it was nice to have a voice on their side. He waited for the boy to leave the room before he finished getting ready, stowing one of his daggers in his boot just to be safe. With so many nobles around who would have liked to see him dead, he couldn’t be too careful after all.

Once he was done preparing, the viceroy headed out, a faint smile tugging at his lip as his excitement to meet up with Penelope grew.

Fortunately, the guards in the castle didn’t trouble him at all. Crow guessed that his father had already told them well in advance that he had permission to come and go as he pleased. Though they didn’t hold back from casting him the occasional glare, he made it to the front gates without interruption, walking with haste as he made his way through the citadel to get to the designated meeting place along the river.