Crow didn’t have as long of a nap as he’d wanted before he was awoken by the sound of his door opening and closing. On a normal day, he might have just assumed it was just Preston coming to check on him and gone back to sleep, but after the trick Elizabeth had tried to pull on him the night before, he was a bit more cautious than usual. Lazily, he opened one eye to see that it was the servant who had stopped by with what looked like a woven basket of freshly washed and dried clothes.

The boy eyed him as he set down the basket near the wardrobe. “How was your trip?” he asked, pulling out a shirt to hang up.

“Busy,” the viceroy yawned as he sat up. Leaning back on one hand, he rubbed his eyes with the heel of his palm. He didn’t feel as well rested as he’d hoped he would. In fact, napping seemed to have just made him more exhausted than before. He dragged his fingers through his tangled hair in mild frustration. If he didn’t get decent sleep tonight, tomorrow was going to be a long day. Unfortunately, knowing how often he was suffering through his nightmares lately, he doubted he would feel any better in the morning.

“Did you enjoy it, at least?” Preston asked absently, inspecting the armpit of a tunic where he seemed to have found a moth hole. He set the damaged shirt aside and continued putting away the rest.

“Of course,” Crow’s features softened with an involuntary smile at the memory of traveling through Bellmare with Penelope. “It was the most time we’ve had together since I moved here. I liked every second of it.” He slid down from the bed and raised his arms over his head in a long stretch. “I just wish I wasn’t so [i]tired[/i] all the time.”

“You had another nightmare last night, didn’t you?” Preston frowned, finally looking away from the clothes to meet the viceroy’s gaze. Suddenly, he leaned over in a deep bow. “I’m sorry. I should have been here this morning. I completely disregarded my duties as your attendant.”

Crow blinked, caught off guard by the abruptness of the gesture. “Don’t worry about it, kid,” he waved his hand dismissively. “You had more important things to do than talk a lunatic down from a stupid dream.”

“I know you’re trying to play it off, Collin,” Preston knitted his brows. “You try to act like you’re fine and you don’t need anyone else, but this is serious. I asked a few of the other attendants in the castle who serve some barons who have the same problem. One of them said his master has pretty much lost his mind. He can’t separate the visions from reality anymore.”

Crow swallowed, reminded eerily of the brief period of time when he had gone through a similar issue during the early battles in the war. The thought of falling back into such a traumatic state made his mouth feel dry. He couldn’t let Preston know that though. “You didn’t tell anyone that I’m the one who’s having nightmares, did you?” he asked in a low voice, feigning disinterest in the conversation by nonchalantly straightening out his disheveled clothes.

“No,” the boy shook his head. “I got lucky. It just came up in conversation because the baron who’s been going crazy apparently tried to kill a guard today. He thought the poor guy was a mercenary and tried to cut his head off. It took three knights to pry him off and drag him to the prison…”

[i]Mercenary?[/i] The viceroy paled, an image of the bald man in the market flashing through his mind. He’d managed to forget about the disturbing sight for most of the day, but now he couldn’t help but wonder again if the man had really been there or not. If he had, that meant there was a murderer in the inner kingdom. If he hadn’t… Well, maybe he should get rid of his daggers so he wouldn’t be the next one to attack a guard.

“Collin?” Preston had a concerned look on his face, noticing that the former thief had tuned him out. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Crow snapped back to attention. He averted his gaze, slightly embarrassed that the servant had caught his frightened reaction. “How’s your sister doing?” he asked suddenly, hoping to change the subject as he headed for the door.

Preston studied him for a moment longer before he answered, “Better. The blanket you gave her is already helping. In fact, she wanted me to tell you that she’s grateful for your generosity.”

“She needs it more than I do,” he shrugged, holding the door open for the attendant to pass through first. “Anyway, I’m starving. Let’s get some food while it’s still hot.”

“Alright,” Preston nodded, seeming to accept the fact that Crow wasn’t willing to talk about what was on his mind.

The two lapsed into thoughtful silence as they walked to the Great Hall for supper.