The council room was already buzzing with voices by the time Crow arrived. The same noblemen he had seen the last time he’d been invited to one of his father’s meetings were seated around the long table, speaking amongst one another while the king reviewed a set of documents with his advisor at the head. Caught up in their conversations, no one seemed to pay the viceroy any mind as he slipped past them to take the open chair at Albin’s left side. Except for Adam Fischbach, that was. The blonde man narrowed his eyes ever so slightly at the former thief, likely still bitter about the fact that a peasant had taken the position he’d been grooming his son to fill.

Crow avoided his gaze as he took his place at the table, more interested in the food that had been laid out for them to eat than the irritable baron’s cold looks. He plucked a roll of bread from the feast and tore off a piece that he stuck into his mouth. There was no one in the room that he really wanted to talk to, so he kept to himself, deciding to pass the time by filling his empty stomach.

“Oh good, you’re here,” Albin, who had taken notice of his arrival, casted his son a nod of acknowledgment.

Crow glanced at him and swallowed the food in his mouth. The usual warm glow had fled from his father’s face, replaced with a look of seriousness that made his presence feel heavy in the room. The king was definitely unhappy about the interruption to his plans.

“If that’s everyone, we can begin,” Albin rose from his chair. Immediately, the chatter of the other noblemen died like a strangled rat, and they turned toward their monarch expectantly. Meanwhile, Crow’s eyes swept discreetly over their faces. He had felt out of place at the last meeting, but this was on a completely different level. All around him were men who had far more knowledge and experience in handling the complexities of warfare, and who all probably had an opinion about the steps the king should take next. It was hard not to feel intimidated by the grave air that hung in the chamber.

“I’m sure you all know why you’re here,” his father’s imposing voice drew the viceroy from his thoughts. He looked up with the others as the king went on, “It appears that the rest of the kingdom is not as enthusiastic about our treaty with the Kingdom of Gorm as I had thought they were. This,” he dropped the stack of signed papers that Penelope had given to him onto the stone surface, “is a petition entreating me to consider an alternative solution. Three hundred and forty-seven voices as high ranking as some of you in this very room have spoken in favor of peace with our neighbor, Younis. I was unaware how unpopular my decision had been among you.”

A deathly quiet fell over the council as Albin paused. Crow felt a chill creep up his spine, suddenly anxious that his father would react in anger to the people who had risen against him. However, the tension was broken as a smile graced the king’s features. “I am your ruler, but I am a fair man,” he assured them firmly. “If my people are so distraught by this war that they would go to lengths such as this to cry for peace, then I will hear them out.

“What I would like from you now, men of the court, is your input. I am aware that some of you are in support of seeking a treaty with the Younisians, but not all of your names are on this list. If you have any reason why you believe we should hold fast to the plan to send Collin to Gorm, this is your last chance to speak. I will make my decision at the end of this meeting, and we will move forward with whatever that decision may be.”

Crow shifted his weight in his seat. He couldn’t tell if his father was actually trying to be fair or if he was just searching for an excuse to cling to the plan he’d already made. Either way, it felt like everything was coming to a point, and he had no say over the outcome. He just hoped the debate between the other council members and the signatures on the petition would be compelling enough to keep the monarch from changing his mind about seeking a peace agreement with Younis.