Riding alongside Penelope, Crow watched the surrounding trees pass by while he chewed bites of the rye bread Preston had given him. He kept a halfhearted lookout for movement, but it was difficult to stay focused when it was still so early in the morning and he hadn’t finished filling his stomach. Instead of staying alert, his thoughts wandered to unimportant things such as pieces of past conversations that he recalled when a sight triggered the memories and musings about what his father might have been doing while he waited to find out if the Younisian king would accept the peace treaty. He wasn’t particularly lost in his thoughts, but the whimsical subjects were enough to keep his mind occupied when he was too tired to stay focused on any one topic for more than a few minutes at a time.

For once, everyone in the group was quiet—even Naida was still groggy enough not to complain about the lack of conversation—so the former thief heard Penelope take a deep breath and shuffle in her saddle at his side. He glanced at her, taking notice that she looked just as tired as she had been when he’d first greeted her when they’d woken up. It seemed like she hadn’t gotten much sleep at all on the floor. He made a mental note to try to persuade her to share a bed with Naida at the next inn if they came up short on sleeping arrangements in Wellspring. Even if the princess did toss and turn in her slumber, it had to be better than a guaranteed night of sleeplessness on hard, wooden slats.

When the knight spoke, Crow’s green eyes flicked up to meet hers and he smirked. “Speak for yourself,” he teased, popping another bite of bread into his mouth. “The gods know I won’t willingly sit on a horse all day unless I’m given something to eat first. You really ought to learn how to be more of a pest, love. Maybe you’ll get some breakfast next time too.” He winked at her playfully and tore the remaining bread in half, holding out one piece to her. “But since I love you, I’ll share my spoils just this once.”