“Goodnight,” Crow returned the farewell as Penelope split off from him and his sister. With another yawn, he turned to Naida. “Ready?”

“’m not that drunk anymore…” the princess protested grumpily, though the viceroy could see that she was swaying on her feet.

“Right,” he rolled his eyes, stepping over to her side to wrap an arm around her middle so that she could brace herself against his side. “Come on, tipsy. Let’s get you to bed.”

“Fine,” she caved, stumbling alongside him as they headed up the stairs.

Crow walked at a slow pace on his way to Naida’s bedchamber, careful to make sure she would be able to keep up with him without falling. The knights they passed casted him tense looks, no doubt sharing in the suspicion that Kane had accused him of at the tavern. It frustrated him that the other nobles in the castle seemed to have labeled him as a scoundrel who took advantage of women, but, too tired to argue about it with men whom he knew didn’t value his word, he pointedly avoided their leery gazes in the corridors.

When he reached the princess’s room, one of the guards held the door for them to pass through and kept it open cautiously as the viceroy helped his intoxicated sister into bed. He murmured a brief goodbye to her and exited the bedchamber without dawdling, concerned that the watchful man would take any delay as a threat to the royal and preemptively jump to her defense.

Only when he returned to his own room alone did the tension on the third floor finally dissipate. He changed into the linen nightclothes that Preston had left on his bed and crawled tiredly underneath the warm blankets. The end of the night had been hectic, but the rest of it had been one of the best he’d had in a long time. John had given him permission to court Penelope, Albin had been impressed with his studies, and he’d had a chance to practice his archery for the first time in months. Overall, he felt like he was finally coming into his own in the inner kingdom, and he hoped the next day would only be better.

--

The following morning, Crow was awoken by the sound of his door opening and closing followed by the sound of his attendant’s voice speaking his name. “Collin,” Preston stepped over to the bedside with a frown. “You need to get up. The king is calling his council this morning, and you have to be there.”

The viceroy groaned and buried his head underneath his pillow. “Already?” he groused. “I haven’t even had breakfast.”

“Breakfast will be served during the meeting,” the servant explained simply. “I’ve let you sleep as long as I can, but the other men are already gathering. If you don’t join them right away, His Majesty will be displeased.”

“It’s too early for this,” Crow complained into his pillow. He laid still for a moment longer before he reluctantly sat up and rubbed his eyes. Through the window, he could see that it wasn’t actually as early as he’d thought, but he still hadn’t gotten to doze as long as he’d wanted to. He hoped the meeting would be concluded quickly, so he could fit in a nap later in the day.

Preston selected a set of clothes for him to wear and attempted to help the viceroy clean up his bedhead, though he didn’t get very far before Crow snatched the comb from his hand to do the work himself. As soon as he was deemed presentable enough for the other high-ranking noblemen, he headed tiredly down the hall to join everyone else in the king’s council chamber.