Crow merely nodded when Penelope compared this inn to the one they had stayed at in Sarton. As they sat down at the table, he could still feel the phantom of his horse’s sway, and it almost felt like the bench itself was moving. He sighed and leaned his forearms on the wooden surface. Although he wasn’t as sore as he had been the first time he’d ridden the large beasts two years ago, he still wasn’t used to sitting atop Baine’s back for long periods of time. He hoped the echoic effect would wear off after a few more days of traveling or else he might be too disoriented to walk in a straight line by the time they reached the Younisian castle.

As the conversation turned to the peasants that were staying at the lodge, he glanced at the two knights but didn’t offer his theory. Most likely, the commoners here had been clever enough to keep money hidden from the king, which was an offense that was punishable by death. At least, the tax collectors always claimed it was. He trusted that Penelope wouldn’t tell anyone if he hinted to her that the people sitting around them were probably hoarders, but he didn’t know how Naida would react. He believed his sister was a good person, but she was Albin’s daughter, born and raised in the inner kingdom. If she was loyal to the royal family, she might tell their father that some of the villagers weren’t paying their dues.

Whether she would have leaked the information back to the king or not, it turned out to have been a good thing that Crow had kept his mouth shut. In the next moment, he heard Otto’s voice behind him. He peered over his shoulder to watch as the baron joined them at the table. Even if Naida wouldn’t tell Albin about the peasants at the inn, the man across from him now definitely would. He shuffled his feet beneath the table, his green eyes flicking between the nearest group of peasants and the older knight, who complained openly about the inconvenience they were being caused because of the commoner crowds. He wouldn’t have been surprised if Otto demanded that they should be given priority for a large room because they were of higher status than the other people at the inn. The thought of separating a large family of villagers made him grimace, and he shook his head.

“I’ve slept on prison stone before, so I can handle one night on the floor,” he volunteered. “Naida and Penelope can have one bed, and you and Rayner can take the other. The rest of us will just have to make do without a mattress.”

Otto frowned, “With all due respect—”

“I’m not arguing about this,” the viceroy crossed his arms defiantly. “You had your way last time, so now I think it’s my turn.” As he spoke, he glanced over his shoulder again to see that Preston and Percival had arrived from the stables. With a victorious glint in his eye, he called to them before the baron could get another word in: “Looks like we’ve only got two beds tonight, boys, so the ladies will get one, and our senior will have the other. What do you think?”

“That’s fine with me,” Percival shrugged, taking a seat beside Naida while Preston sat next to Crow.

“The same goes for me,” the servant agreed.

“Looks like we’ve got our sleeping arrangements for the night then, huh?” the former thief turned back to Otto and winked, knowing fully well that the older man couldn’t fight back when he’d based his decision on the laws of chivalry, which all knights were supposed to embrace.