“And beyond the storage?”
“Guest quarters,” Tomas clipped, as if trying to cut off the conversation. I filed it away.
Garrett narrowed his eyes. “What are the schemes hidden behind these senseless questions? Curious about the castle’s layout, are you?”
I shrugged. “It would appear more unnatural if I wasn’t. While my occupation has given me the opportunity to explore many grand estates, this is my first palace.”
He snorted. “A fine way to describe a life of crime.” He lowered his voice to mutter something indiscernible beneath his breath, “what are Their Majesties thinking” being the only words to rise above his disgruntled grumblings.
It appeared we harbored similar questions.
By the time we reached the upper wing, I had pieced together little more than questions…but even questions were power. Additionally, I’d glimpsed at least three exits, a side hall that dipped lower than the others, and what might be servant passages hidden behind the carved latticework. Enough to plan something later.
We rounded another corner and I caught the lilt of laughter and feminine voices, elegant in that performative way I despised from nobles. I slowed instinctively, holding back just enough that I reached the archway just as the group of young women came into view.
I knew who they were before the guards said a word—the candidates of this strange competition I’d somehow entangled myself in, the ones I’d been unwittingly competing against.
A handful of them lounged in a rose-stone courtyard just beyond the corridor, framed by climbing ivy and gold-trimmed columns. Morning light kissed their jewel-toned gowns as they sipped tea and nibbled pastries brought on silver trays. The picture of aristocracy, painted in colors far more suitable than whatever adorned my own un-royal portrait.
Curiosity compelled me to linger just behind the column’s edge and spy, the guards clearly not worried I'd bolt. Not with them blocking every exit and a sword on each hip.
“It’s unseemly to eavesdrop.” But for all the guards’ disapproval, they made no move to stop me, as if my passing the test the king and queen had set before me afforded me some status…something I meant to take advantage of to the fullest.
“…slept divinely,” a brunette noblewoman said with a sigh, fanning herself lazily with a delicate peacock-feather fan that I might have been tempted to steal if it carried anything more than the whispers of idle court gossip. “I’ve never felt so rested.” She picked up a strawberry from a silver tray with delicate fingers, lifting it to her painted pink lips.
Another chimed in, lazily flicking a long auburn curl over her shoulder. “I assumed the guest chambers would be dreadful, considering how strangely we’ve all been treated—summoned without explanation, cordoned off, with no word from our hosts or any timeline for how long we’ll be required to stay.”
“At this point I half expect they’ve forgotten we’re still here,” a third said coolly, buttering a scone. “There hasn’t been a word from Their Majesties.”
“Which makes it all the more insulting.” The fan-wielder lowered her voice conspiratorially and they all leaned in. “Have you heard the rumor? The only person Their Majesties have asked to meet today is athief. It’s absurd.” She gave her fan an offended flutter.
My breath stilled and I edged closer, being careful to remain out of sight.
“The servants are buzzing about it,” the brunette continued, laying her fan down and smoothing her blue satin gown. “Apparently she was caught sneaking through the palace, and instead of being imprisoned in the dungeon as she deserved, she was granted a private audience.”
“Where did you hear that, Marjorie?” the woman with auburn hair asked, tilting her head thoughtfully. “I take it you have an admirer in the palace, one who is willing to spill secrets?”
Marjorie fluttered her peacock feathers. “Perhaps I simply listen better, Edwina. Or maybe if you spent more time actually paying attention and less curling your hair, you’d know things too.”
Edwina flashed her a glare, her sea-green dress rustling as she flounced in her seat.
The third noblewoman snorted in disgust, her aquiline nose wrinkling as she set her scone on a plate, untasted. “To think a common criminal was allowed to meet with Their Majesties in boots and patched sleeves. If it weren’t so offensive, it would almost be impressive.” Her blonde ringlets quivered as she shook her head in annoyance.
Edwina sipped her tea through lips pursed with disapproval, seeming to forget her brief spat with Marjorie in her eagerness to gossip. “She must have blackmailed someone, or uncovered some scandal they’re desperate to conceal. There’s no other logical explanation.”
Marjorie closed her fan with a disgruntled flick of her wrist. “Whatever her tricks that allowed her to get this far, surely they won’t last. Whoever she is, she doesn’t belong here. One brush with the court and she’ll unravel.”
“She must have cheated somehow,” a new voice said coolly, the tone laced with poison and sugar. A flicker of heat curled through me. Whatever my habit of stealing, I would never stoop to such distasteful deceit. I craned forward slightly to see who was slandering me. A tall woman in a silver dress, dark hair pulled into a stylish bun, leaned gracefully against a pillar, a bored look on her striking face.
“Or,” the blonde said, her voice dripping with disdain. “Perhaps the court is so desperate for a replacement prince they’ll settle foranything, even a street rat.”
I chose that moment to clear my throat and step into sight. One by one, their gazes shifted and their eyes caught mine. Their laughter faltered and their whispers ceased when they noticed me watching. Their sneers grew sharper as they assessed my wrinkled clothing and worn attire. I wore no silk or jewels, just bruises and a satisfied smirk as I took in their wide-eyed shock.
The thief in the flesh.
I didn’t flinch beneath their scorn, but held their gaze with a lifted chin. Marjorie recovered first. “It appears we have an unsolicited visitor. Eavesdropping is so…provincial. Unsurprising; spying suits your kind.”
I smirked. “Secrets make better currency than gold. But even with the scandal dripping from your scones, yours are barely worth a bronze coin.”
