“Yeah, it’s kind of horrifying that I’ve got more power than I’ve ever had in my life but also the least amount of control over my own life at the same time,” Crow wrinkled his nose. From the start, he’d known that noblemen lived by far more rules than peasants did, but he supposed that to a certain extent, he’d always assumed that the rules wouldn’t apply to him if he accepted the title of viceroy. He had the highest rank in Brerra outside of the royal family—which he was technically also a part of as the king’s secret first-born son—so he’d hoped that he would be able to dictate how he spent his time when he didn’t have a job to do for Albin. To his repeated disappointment, he was discovering that that wasn’t how things worked in the inner kingdom though.

“At least things might change when we get back,” he pointed out as they walked, trying to be optimistic. “No one can blame us for spending time together now that we’re courting, and once we’re married, we’ll even be able to live together.” He couldn’t wait for that. Getting to be with her every day would be paradise after they’d spent years struggling to be with each other at all. Of course, they would still have work to do in their respective jobs even then, but at least they could catch up with each other on most nights when they returned to their own shared bedchamber to unwind at the end of each day. The thought of it was so different than what he’d grown accustomed to that it felt like a dream.

When Penelope asked him if there was anywhere in particular that he wanted to visit, he pondered the question. He didn’t know Wellspring as well as he knew the villages further north, so he couldn’t come up with any sights in particular that he wanted to see while they were there. “Why don’t we pay the river a visit?” he suggested with a shrug. “It seemed like a peaceful spot to stop by when you’re not in the middle of being chased by a crazy knight.” He leaned into her side teasingly and then gave her hand a tug. “Come on, huntress; I remember it was this way.”

Leading her into the trees, he strode through the woods until he heard the sound of flowing water. Vaguely, he remembered that the ground on this side of the river dropped off abruptly in a short cliff, so he slowed his pace to keep from stumbling into it. When they reached it, he smiled to himself, enjoying the trips they were making recently to places they had last visited two years ago. He sat down on the edge of the steep bank and let his legs dangle over the side, “We should have done this last time we were here. It’s much more pleasant than waking up downstream smelling like a dead fish and plucking moss out of your trousers.”