The rest of the morning was practically torture to Crow. He itched to get up from his bed to pace in the tent, wanting to burn off the nervous energy that was building up inside of him. As time dragged on and there was still no sign of Penelope, he was starting to feel more and more convinced that something had gone wrong. Why else would it take her this long to return to him? The other barons must have been arguing against Mia’s alternative suggestion to work with him instead of punishing him. He remembered that she had said she wanted to come to a decision today, so if her comrades fought with her long enough, there was no doubt in his mind that she would cave.
He closed his eyes, swallowing the lump in his throat as his fear grew stronger. He wished someone would come to the tent to tell him what was going on. It was unbearable to wait with no clue if he was to be set free or crippled for his crimes.
Almost as if on cue, the flap of the tent rustled as someone appeared from outside. The thief’s heart leapt into his throat, and he turned to see who had come. Was it Penelope, here to tell him that his voice had been heard; or was it one of the other knights, come to cut off his hands? He held his breath, impatient to find out the answer. However, as the figure stepped inside, his eyes widened slightly in surprise. It wasn’t any knight from the camp; it was Penelope’s father, John. He stared at the man in confusion. It had been over two years since the last time they had crossed paths, but he recognized the broad scar on that man’s face anywhere. It was definitely him, but why was he here?
John came to a halt near the entrance of the tent, examining the thief for a moment before he turned to Gavin, who was gawking at him with just as much shock as Crow. As the older knight’s gaze fell on him, Penelope’s former suitor rose hurriedly to his feet and lowered his head in a respectful bow, “It’s an honor to see you again, sir,” he greeted John in a formal manner as he straightened his posture again. For a moment, he hesitated before adding tentatively, “May I ask why you’ve come?”
“It’s good to see you too, Gavin” John said. There was a faint fondness in his eyes as he gazed upon the younger knight, which made Crow shift nervously on his bed. The thief was well aware that Penelope’s father had chosen Gavin to court his daughter. If he found out that her heart had been stolen by a criminal, he wasn’t going to be happy.
What if he already knows? The thought made him blanch. Oh gods, what if that’s why he’s here? What if he found out about us and came to kill me, himself? His heart pounded anxiously in his chest as he waited for the man to respond to Gavin’s question.
Strangely enough, John’s answer wasn’t what he had been expecting at all.
“I’m here on assignment from the king,” the knight said curtly, his cold eyes wandering back to the thief as he spoke. “He sent me to find this one… If you don’t mind, please step outside, Gavin. I’d like a word with him alone.”
Gavin blinked in surprise, his eyes flicking to Crow as well before he dipped his head once more. “O-Of course,” he complied. “Take all the time you need.” With that, he stepped out of the tent, leaving the other two men alone.
At first, neither said anything. Crow was still too astounded by Penelope’s father’s sudden appearance to find his voice, and John was busy studying him with an expression that was impossible to read. The intensity of his gaze made the thief want to back away from him. Crow didn’t like how long this knight was looking at him. It was as if there was something the other man could see that was invisible to him. The thought was unnerving, and it was enough to help him find his words.
“What do you want with me?” he asked in a blunt tone, narrowing his eyes in a defensive manner.
“I don’t want anything,” John replied, moving to stand closer to the thief’s bed. “I was sent by the king to speak with you.”
At the mention of his father, Crow bristled and averted his gaze. He didn’t like knowing that Albin had sent someone to find him. While there had been a bounty on his head for quite a few years now, neither the past nor present kings had ever done something like this. It seemed excessive. “Has he grown so desperate to imprison me again that he’s stooped to sending men like you to catch me?” he muttered bitterly without looking up. “I would have thought the king of Brerra had better things to do than chase a lowly thief.”
“That’s not it at all,” John responded plainly. “But I’m sure you already know that.”
Crow casted him a sideways glance, “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means that this isn’t the first time the king has tried to contact you, and I believe you already know he’s been looking for you.”
Crow froze at that. He had nearly forgotten about the letter Evelyn had given him that had been delivered by one of Albin’s couriers about a year ago. At the time, she had offered to read it to him, but, not wanting anything to do with the man, he had refused to let her. Despite his hatred of the king, he could never bring himself to get rid of the letter though, entranced by a morbid curiosity to find out what his estranged father wanted with him after all these years of silence. He eyed John warily. Even if Albin had tried to reach out to him one time, it didn’t make sense to him that the man would grow so impatient as to handpick a knight to come after him.
“Alright, fine,” the thief admitted, curling his lip. “I know he’s been looking for me, but you can tell him that whatever he wants from me, he isn’t going to get it.”
“Are you sure about that?” there was an undertone to John’s voice that made Crow feel like he was warning him. “Do you not even want to know why he sent me to find you?”
“Not even a little,” Crow lied, looking away again. “Sorry you had to come all this way just to be sent back, but I’m not going to bow to him like the rest of you pushovers.”
“That’s unfortunate,” John exhaled. “Well then, I suppose I’ll just have to turn you back over to the custody of the barons of this camp. I believe I overheard them saying something about cutting off your hands? It’s a fitting end to a thief, if I do say so, myself.”
Crow paled. So, his guess had been right. The reason why the meeting had been taking so long was because they were going to choose their original plan. He swallowed frightfully, feeling like he was trapped between a rock and a hard place. If he denied to hear John out, he would be sentenced to lose his hands, but if he listened, it would mean complying with whatever demands his father had sent to him one year ago. He didn’t like either option, but there was a clear and obvious choice to make.
“Alright, alright, you win,” he groaned, turning back to Penelope’s father with a glare. “I’m still not promising I’ll do anything, but… just tell me what he wants.”
“A wise decision,” John nodded, seeming pleased that his words had gotten through to the stubborn thief. “The king wishes to invite you into a private audience in his court at the royal castle. I don’t know what he wants to speak to you about, but he’s obviously deemed it important enough to meet with you in person.” His eyes swept over Crow again in a scrutinizing fashion, as if he was trying to solve that piece of the puzzle just by looking at him.
“If you accept this invitation, I will give you escort to the inner kingdom. If not…” he shrugged. “I’m sure you already know that too.”
Crow didn’t respond right away, chewing on the inside of his lip in thought as he mulled over his options. While he disliked the idea of accepting something his father tried to offer him, anything would be better than being crippled by the knights. He cursed inwardly as he realized that John had caught him at just the opportune moment to force him to take the invitation.
It’s just an audience, he thought, trying to reassure himself. It’s not like I have to go along with anything else. I can just hear him out and leave. Still, his pride wouldn’t allow him to accept the offer outright.
“I want to think about it,” he murmured, keeping his gaze fixed on the side of the tent as he avoided John’s eyes.
The knight eyed him for a moment longer before he nodded, “I’ll give you until the end of the day. You’ll have your answer ready for me then, or I’ll assume it’s a no and hand you over to the barons here.” He stepped back to head for the entrance of the tent. However, just before he left, he glanced back once more over his shoulder. “I urge you to consider it, Lockton. He is your father, after all.” With that, the knight exited the room, leaving Crow to stare dumbfoundedly at the ghost of where he’d just been.
