Crow was just beginning to tune out Penelope and Hartley’s conversation when the boy said something that caught his attention. ‘The heart wants what the heart wants,’ huh? He thought, surprised at the depth of Hartley’s words. I’m impressed the kid came up with something like that. He knew it to be true though. His heart longed for Penelope, even though it seemed like everything and everyone was against him. Their gap in their statuses, the culture of Brerra, their individual futures… all of it stood as a barrier. He couldn’t go after the knight, even if he knew she wanted him too. But she doesn’t, he reminded himself. She doesn’t have feelings for me the way I do for her.
He glanced back at the others, and was surprised to see—for a fleeting moment—a slight redness in Penelope’s cheeks. She was blushing… and she was looking at him. His heart began to pound in his chest. Could it be that he had been wrong? Was there more to her kindness than mere friendship? For a moment, he wondered if there was a chance after all.
“Well then your heart is being foolish,” Penelope said to Hartley. There was a stubbornness to her voice that quickly dashed Crow’s short-lived hope. He turned away again, staring out the window of the wagon as the buildings in the town rolled by. Of course there wasn’t a chance. Penelope was a beautiful woman. Why would she want to be with a thief when she could have any noble she wanted—someone who could care for her the way she deserved to be cared for.
He knew he could never treat her properly. Since she didn’t approve of stealing, he couldn’t even claim to be able to provide food or shelter for her without going about it through less than wholesome means. He had never learned how to tend a field like the other men in the outer villages, so he couldn’t farm. He also didn’t know anything about blacksmithing or carpentry or other jobs that required a specific skillset. Thievery was his whole life—and it was a life Penelope wanted nothing to do with.
Still wrought with disappointment, Crow closed his eyes. He didn’t want to keep thinking about Penelope, since the thoughts brought him nothing but pain. He wanted to sleep and put it all behind him. The rise and fall of his chest grew softer as he slowly faded into slumber.
--
Crow dreamed he was back in Brerra. He stood in the center of a large ballroom in the king’s castle, while nobles danced in circles around him. He looked down at himself, only to find that he was dressed in an expensive surcoat. As he wondered how he had gotten there, he felt a hand on his shoulder. He turned to see his father and mother standing beside him, both beaming proudly.
“You’ll do just fine, son,” his father said, giving Crow’s shoulder a squeeze before letting his hand fall.
“No matter what, we love you,” his mother stepped forward in a lavish gown and wrapped her arms around him in an embrace.
“Thank you,” Crow found himself leaning forward in an eloquent bow. His feet carried him away from his parents and towards a nearby staircase, where he stepped into line with a dozen other young noblemen. He looked up to see the king of Brerra—a green-eyed man sporting a balding head of white hair and a silvery beard, with a jagged scar across his face—standing over the crowd.
“Honored guests and venerated suitors,” the king’s voice boomed, sending a hush across the audience. “I am pleased to announce that my daughter, Princess Penelope Vermillion, has made her decision.” There was a brief applause, and then the king went on. “After a season of courting, the princess has chosen the man whom she wishes to marry.” His stern eyes swept over the line of noblemen, coming to a rest on Crow. He could feel the excitement bubbling up inside of him as he predicted what the king was going to say.
“Prince Lockton, step forward.”
Crow felt his legs carry him forward once more as he complied. He bowed deeply to the king, keeping his emotions in check.
“I give you my blessing to marry my daughter,” the king stepped aside, holding out a hand to the princess who had appeared at his side. Though he was still positioned in a bow, Crow snuck a peek at her. His breath caught in his throat.
Princess Penelope was gorgeous. Her long brunette hair was pinned and braided in a complex style; her smiling face shone radiantly down upon him; her scarlet dress flowed like water around her body, cinching in the middle to show off her supple waist. Every small movement she made was full of grace, but best of all was the friendly, yet mischievous simper on her pink lips that seemed to say: I don’t like all this pomp and pageantry any more than you do.
“Come, young prince, and join your betrothed,” the king said with a welcoming gesture.
Crow’s heart fluttered with nervous excitement as he climbed the stairs to stand beside the two royals. When he reached the top, the king took his and Penelope’s hands in his own and raised them to the spectators. “Kingdom of Brerra,” he said proudly. “I present to you your future king and queen!” The crowd erupted in cheers and applause. Crow and Penelope met each other’s gazes. She grinned at him in that infectious way of hers, and his heart skipped a beat. He felt like the luckiest man in the world.
Before he knew what he was doing, Crow swept the princess up in his arms and pressed his lips to hers in a passionate kiss. He didn’t know where he had come from or how he had gotten there. All he knew was that he never wanted the moment to end…
--
“Crow… Hey, Crow! Wake up!”
Crow blinked his eyes open and looked around the wagon in a daze, momentarily forgetting where he was. Where were all of the nobles? The king? His bride? Suddenly, everything came back to him all at once and his heart sank. It had been a dream. He wasn’t in the palace of Brerra; he was in a cart in some Younisian town. He wasn’t engaged to marry Penelope either. Even though the dream had been pleasant, it left him in a dismal mood.
“Get up, lazy ass,” Hartley stood over him with his hands on his hips. “We’re here. William needs us to go to the inn and arrange a room.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Crow groaned, sitting up and rubbing his eyes with the heel of his palm. “Give me a second, okay?” Still disoriented from his vivid dream, he took a moment to gather his bearings by letting his green eyes wander over his surroundings. Hartley stood impatiently off to his side, William and Abraxas were outside of the wagon discussing something, and Penelope…
His heart leapt into his throat as memories of his dream resurfaced. He felt warmth creep up his neck and into his face, and he quickly turned away from her, willing the flush to go away. He needed some time away from her so he could forget about the dream.
“Let’s go,” he said to Hartley, rising to his feet.
The young thief eyed him for a moment before nodding, “Took you long enough.” He hopped down from the wagon and led the way to the inn, with Crow following right behind him.
Once they were away from the wagon, Hartley slowed his pace to walk at Crow’s side. “So,” he narrowed his eyes suspiciously at the older thief. “What was that about?”
“What are you talking about?” Crow said, feigning confusion though he was pretty sure he knew what the boy was going to say.
“That look you were giving my Penelope,” Hartley said. “Don’t pretend like you don’t know. I saw it.”
Crow sighed. There was no point in hiding it when the kid had caught him. “It’s nothing,” he explained. “Just a dream that didn’t mean anything.”
“Oh,” Hartley smirked at him knowingly. “Don’t worry. I get it.”
“It wasn’t like that,” Crow gave the boy a shove.
“Sure,” Hartley winked at him.
“Just shut up,” Crow shook his head, deciding it was better to leave the kid to his assumptions than tell him about the details of his actual dream.
When they reached the entrance of the inn, Crow held open the door for Hartley to walk through with him. “Let’s get that room, shall we?” he said, taking on his Younisian accent once again.
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