Chapter Text
NPOV
Track: Catch Me If You Can, Jhariah
This entire town reeks of cabbage and bootlicking.
The smell drifts in thick waves, sour and earthy, as if the whole place is simmering in yesterday's boiled vegetables. The streets are crowded, bodies pressed shoulder to shoulder, and everywhere I look, there are guards standing stiff-backed with hands on their sword hilts. Today, they're more abundant than rats in an alleyway—and twice as annoying. It seems no one is brave enough to cross the street without giving them a friendly nod or dipping a cap in forced politeness.
Rumor has it the king is in town. That's why all these guards are swarming the streets like hornets around their hive. And I'll admit, the thought of him being so close has my fingers itching for something valuable, something that'll cover food for my sister and me for weeks to come.
I pull the hood of my worn, gray cloak a little lower, moving through the crowds like water slipping through cracks. Not that anyone really looks at me twice; I'm just a flicker in the corner of their eyes, there and gone before they have a chance to wonder why. While the townsfolk throw uneasy glances at the guards, I'm more focused on the task at hand. My sister Bianca's waiting at home, and we're running low on supplies. For all this talk of the king's entourage, these people are just as broke as ever.
It doesn't take long before I'm slipping an apple from a fruit stall, a roll from a baker's cart, and a handful of nuts from the stand of an old merchant who's more interested in schmoozing with a nearby soldier than watching his wares. A quick dart of my hand, a flick of my wrist, and the food is mine, tucked away neatly in my bag.
A flash of movement glitters across the market square, just outside my field of vision. It catches my eye—a flicker of light so quick it could be mistaken for the sun reflecting off metal. But I've spent enough time keeping an eye out for things of value to know that it's no ordinary gleam.
I slip deeper into the crowd, trailing the source of the flash. A wave of people rises and falls around me, but I keep close, moving like a shadow, always quiet and carefully unseen. My eyes trace the sparkle to its owner, and my breath catches. The glint belongs to a pin—a solid gold crest, inset with a single gemstone, sparkling under the midday sun. The king's seal.
It's worth a fortune.
Enough to feed Bianca and me for half a year, maybe longer, if I barter well enough.
The king himself is surrounded by an impressive ring of guards, each of them sharper and more alert than the usual bumbling town patrol. They form a tight wall of muscle and iron. Not great for thievery purposes, I must admit. If I were any less efficient at my job, I would turn away. (If I were any smarter, too.)
But there's a gap—a narrow space where the line isn't quite perfect. Maybe one of the guards is distracted, or maybe he's just lazy. Either way, it's all I need.
I shift my weight, adjusting the bag over my shoulder. The little surge of confidence I feel now grows—knowing that if I pull this off, we'll be set for months. I mean, I have to take this chance. I'll have Bianca fed and warm through the winter—the trickiest season for survival. The trick here is all about timing: one misstep, and I'll be on the wrong end of a spear.
But I didn't spend years surviving off scraps in alleys just to get by a few of the King's men. I press forward, letting the current of people carry me closer. I slip between two townsfolk, their backs turned, then duck quickly behind the elbow of a bored guard who's too busy yawning to notice me. The space between me and the king narrows with every step, the flash of the seal like a beacon.
And then, I'm there. The gap in the guard line widens just enough for me to slip a hand in, fingers quick and precise, lifting the golden pin from his cloak in a single, smooth motion. I turn, slipping back into the crowd before anyone realizes what's happened, the seal warm in my palm, its weight solid and heavy. My heart races—not from fear, but from exhilaration.
And a smile is starting to form no matter how much I try to keep it away—because I really just did that.
I pull the pin close to my chest, finally letting a small, satisfied grin tug at the corner of my mouth. Robbing the king in broad daylight, surrounded by his best men—that's something I'll be bragging to Bianca about tonight for sure. I can already imagine her eyes going wide when she sees the seal—and then she's probably going to yell at me for taking such a dangerous risk, but it all worked out in the end, so she can't be too mad.
But just as I'm about to slip back through the crowd and make my escape, I feel a prickling sensation down my spine, like the weight of someone's gaze settling on me. I glance up, careful and cautious, and then I see him:
The prince.
Standing across the square, watching me.
He appears younger than I expected, maybe about my age, with a face that's all soft angles and blue eyes. No one that looks that pretty could be anything except exorbitantly wealthy. (It's not that the townspeople are ugly—it's that beauty like that is expensive. He's the sort of pretty formed by excessive horseback riding, fencing lessons, baths with rose petals floating on the water, and not a single day of hard labor.) He's dressed in fine clothes, but there's an edge to him, a stillness in the way he holds himself. He's not like the king—no, this one doesn't need guards to make him look important. He's got that curious, intelligent look, the kind that tells you he doesn't miss much.
Definitely the prince.
Our eyes lock, and my pulse stutters. He's watching me with a look that's unreadable, a flicker of something almost amused in the way his mouth tilts. I can't tell if he's impressed or if he's seconds away from calling his guards to drag me into the palace dungeons. The way he's staring, though—it's intense. Too intense for someone who just caught a thief.
I think of the seal tucked in my hand, the fortune it represents, and for a split second, I wonder if this is it. If he's going to call me out, expose me right here in front of everyone.
I brace myself for it, waiting...
And he doesn't.
He just keeps looking, his expression steady, unreadable, like he's waiting for me to make the next move. And in the silence, in the space between us, there's something strange in the way he's watching me. A tension that coils tighter the longer we hold each other's gaze, until I'm not sure if he's daring me to run or if he's daring me to stay. And then I realize—he's starting to blush.
I raise an eyebrow, a small, cocky grin playing at my lips. Then, slowly, deliberately, I wink at him.
And then I turn, moving quickly, letting the crowd carry me away. Behind me, I hear a shout, a loud, booming voice echoing across the marketplace. The king's realized he's been robbed. Guards start pushing through the crowd, eyes wild and searching. But I'm already gone, my footsteps quiet as I melt into the shadows of the woods.
And the prince must not have said anything, because no one comes chasing after me.
Instead, I pick my way through the rocky dirt path—which is mostly weeds and disgruntled squirrels—back to the house Bianca and I are squatting at. It's not technically ours, but it's not really anyone else's either. As far as we can tell, it's too broken down for anyone to want it, and while there was an ad posted in the town square about someone trying to sell the land, no one ever took them up on it.
So the house sits empty, which is such a shame that really it's a good thing that Bianca and I make use of it.
When it's finally in sight, it leaves a lot to be desired, admittedly. The roof is mostly in shambles—wooden planks rotting and falling in. The front door is off its hinges. The windows are boarded up. Still, when I see it, I grin—because today is bringing possibly the best news this house has ever received.
I pause just before I reach the broken gate, taking a moment to glance back over my shoulder. There's no one there—no guards, no watchful blue eyes. Just the empty, dusty street and the smell of stale cabbage.
With a quiet smile, I push open the gate and slip inside.