Archive of Our Own

The Bluejay 

Morning light crept through the narrow gaps in the thick velvet curtains, casting soft golden rays across the polished marble and mahogany of the Crownguard estate’s grandest bedroom. Beneath silk sheets, Luxanna Crownguard stirred, the warmth of sleep still wrapped around her. The world outside her bed was quiet—serene, almost—save for the muffled thud of hurried footsteps echoing through the corridor beyond her door.

Then came voices. Sharp. Urgent.

Shouts.

Her eyes snapped open.

Lux sat up in an instant, her heart already quickening. The air was cool against her skin as her feet touched the hardwood floor. She slipped into a robe and crossed the room in brisk strides, pulling open her door.

Chaos met her on the other side.

Staff rushed back and forth. Security guards barked clipped orders, some speaking into radios, others already disappearing down the hallway.

“What’s happening?” Lux asked one of the passing guards. He didn’t answer—didn’t even glance her way.

“Hey!” she called after him, but the man vanished around the corner.

She stood frozen for a moment, watching the confusion unfold.

“Luxanna!”

Her name boomed down the hall.

She turned and spotted her brother, Garen, striding toward her with fire in his eyes.

“Garen, what’s going on?” she asked, a knot forming in her stomach.

“We’ve been targeted,” he said. There was a strange blend of fury and exhilaration in his voice. 

“Targeted? By who?” she asked, her brows furrowing.

“I don’t know,” he admitted, lowering his voice. “Come on. Father and Aunt Tiana are in the study—they’ll know more.”

Lux followed close behind as they navigated the mansion’s winding halls. As they stepped into the family study, a shriek of fury split the air.

“What do you mean you can’t find them!?” her mother, Augatha, roared into the phone. “This is an attack! On House Crownguard!”

Lux had never seen her mother like this. Agitated. Uncomposed.

Her father, Pieter, sat silently at his desk, elbows resting on the carved wood, hands folded beneath his chin. His expression was unreadable, as always. Aunt Tiana stood nearby, calm but alert, watching a television screen in the corner of the room.

The curtains were drawn. The shadows cast over the study gave it the feel of a war room.

Lux moved beside her aunt, eyes flickering to the TV.

A headline in bold crimson letters ran across the bottom of the screen:
“GENTLEMAN THIEF ANNOUNCES NEXT TARGET”

“This footage was captured just moments ago…” The reporter began to speak.

Then the drone footage came into view.

The camera hovered above a tall city building—a familiar rooftop.

“Wait…” Lux murmured.

She rushed past her father’s desk, ignoring her aunt’s soft warning.

“Lux, don’t—”

But it was too late. Lux pulled open the curtains and looked out.

Across the street, strung proudly from the rooftop of the opposing high-rise, hung a massive royal-blue banner, fluttering in the breeze.

Painted in hot pink across the fabric were two simple words:

GET READY!

A thick streak of blue paint ran down the building’s face and spilled into the street below, where graffiti of a stylized blue bird—wings wide, head tilted in defiance—marked the pavement.

A bluejay.

The TV confirmed it a beat later:
“…in a bold first, the elusive gentleman thief, The Bluejay, has announced their next target: the Crownguards.”

Silence gripped the room.

Then Augatha slammed the phone down. “I’ll have his badge if he can’t give me answers!”

All eyes turned to her.

“What did the Commissioner say?” Pieter asked.

“They have nothing. No leads, no suspects. Apparently, that bird ‘just appeared.’ Useless.”

She marched to the window, yanked the curtain shut with finality. Darkness fell over the room once more.

Garen shifted uneasily. “What do we do? Should I prepare our leave?”

“Leave!?” Augatha snapped, eyes flaring. “We are not cowards. We do not run.”

“I wasn’t suggesting—Father?”

Pieter remained quiet, but Tianna’s voice cut through the tension. Calm. Ironclad.

“We’re staying. And we’re defending what’s ours.”

Pieter nodded. “Agreed. Call in the security firms. Full lockdown. We will not made fools.”

“I’ll make a call,” Tianna added. “I know of someone who has been tracking this thief. She’ll be useful.”

The family began to move. Garen disappeared to make preparations. 

“Outrageous… Pieter, come with me. We have to make an official statement before they start talking.”

Augatha and Pieter exited, discussing press statements and how to preserve their public image.

Lux was the last one left.

She lingered by the window, pulling the curtain aside just enough to peek through again.

The banner still waved. Bright. Brazen.

GET READY!

Her heart skipped a beat.

“She really came… the bet is on,” Lux whispered, her cheeks flushing with heat.

And in her mind, a memory stirred—warm, wild, and unmistakably blue.

Four Months Earlier

The Laurent Annual Charity Auction had always been a spectacle—an evening draped in opulence and wrapped in a pretense of altruism. Glittering gowns, polished smiles, and hollow promises. For the elite, it was less about giving and more about displaying—wealth, status, power. One massive, gilded game of one-upmanship. And, of course, the Crownguards wouldn’t dare miss it.

Not this year.

Not when Augatha Crownguard had something to parade.

“Now presenting His Royal Highness, Prince Jarvan IV, and his fiancée, Lady Luxanna Crownguard,” the head butler announced with rehearsed pomp as the towering ballroom doors opened.

Flashes burst from a sea of cameras, casting stark white light over polished marble and crystal chandeliers. Luxanna entered on Jarvan’s arm, her expression fixed into a delicate, practiced smile. The hum of conversation swelled around them—hushed voices thick with curiosity and quiet judgment.

“So it’s true. Finally official.”

“Augatha must be ecstatic.”

“She secured the match. Old blood never loses.”

Lux’s fingers tightened around Jarvan’s arm. He didn’t notice. He was already waving to the cameras, flashing the stately grin he wore like a crown.

A warm hand pressed against Lux’s back. Her mother. Augatha stepped beside them, chin lifted for the press, voice low and sharp beneath her polished smile.

“Smile, dear. We’ve worked too hard for this moment.”

It sounded less like encouragement and more like a threat.

Lux drew in a breath and pushed her smile wider, swallowing down everything she wanted to say.

“That’s better,” her mother whispered, satisfied.

The parade began.

They glided from group to group, a perfect couple bound by lineage and legacy. They laughed at empty jokes, accepted hollow compliments, and exchanged pleasantries with people who already knew their names, their titles, their values in this great social auction. Every polished floor, every mirrored wall, every golden chandelier seemed to reflect back a version of Lux that didn’t feel like her at all.

She wasn’t a woman anymore. She was a prize.

In a cage of gold and glass.

Hung gently on Jarvan’s arm like an accessory.

Her mind drifted. This is it... The rest of my life… She could hear her mother’s voice again, echoing like prophecy. You have a duty, Luxanna. To our name. To our house. The match had been arranged long before she was even born. Now it was reality, and she had run out of time to run.

Her chest felt tight. Maybe it was the corset. Maybe it was the weight of inevitability.

“Excuse me,” she said, pulling gently away from Jarvan’s arm.

He turned, finally looking at her. “Are you alright? You’re pale.”

“I’m fine. Just… warm. I need a moment. Some air.”

He nodded, his gaze already drifting back to the conversation he’d been having. “Very well.”

She turned away.

But before she could make it to the garden doors, her mother intercepted her with a precision born of years navigating power and control.

“Where are you going?” Augatha’s voice was a warning, hidden under a smile. “You need to stay with him. Appearances matter.”

“Just for a moment, Mother. I need some air. Please.” Lux’s voice was low, but urgent.

Augatha scanned her face, then relented with a tight nod. “Fine. But be quick. The auction begins soon.”

Lux stepped into the garden and exhaled like she’d surfaced from underwater.

Moonlight bathed the manicured hedges and marble pathways in silver. She drifted away from the music and laughter, heels quiet on the flagstones, until she found herself walking along the west side of the estate. Here, the sounds of the party faded into stillness. She welcomed it.

And then—rustling.

A hushed voice. Feminine. Sharp with frustration.

“Damn it. Which cable is it?”

Lux slowed and stepped lightly toward the noise, curiosity overtaking caution. She peered over a low hedge.

There, crouched at the base of the mansion’s side wall, fiddling a lockbox, was a woman in a servant’s uniform. A duffle bag, a silver tray, and tools scattered beside her. And long, unmistakable twin braids—electric blue, like twin strands of lightning.

Lux’s breath caught. Realization dawned.

She knew the rumors. Knew the whispers traded like urban legend in elite circles.

The Bluejay.

The infamous gentleman thief who danced circles around security systems and made a mockery of the world’s most protected fortunes.

Lux leaned in, just as the woman clicked something in the lockbox.

“There,” the thief muttered, checking a sleek wristwatch. “Perfect. Now back to the party.”

She began tucking her tools away. The moment the moonlight caught her face, Lux froze.

She was… stunning.

Tall and lean, built like someone who could scale rooftops and waltz through laser grids. Her face was both soft and severe—angular cheekbones, full lips, and eyes that glittered with danger and amusement. There was something untamed about her. Something free.

She’s beautiful, Lux thought, the realization hitting her like a stone to the chest.

Her cheeks flushed with heat.

She should have turned and alerted the guards. Her mind told her that. But something deeper—kept her rooted.

She wanted to know more. To understand her. To speak to the story behind the legend.

So Lux straightened her shoulders, took a deep breath, and stepped into the clearing.

“Excuse me.”

The thief snapped her head up.

Lux kept her voice light. “I doubt anyone ordered catering out here…” Her gaze flicked pointedly to the catering tray in the woman’s hand. “I don’t remember ‘breaking and entering’ being offered…” 

A beat passed.

Lux felt the gaze on her. Studying her. Assessing her. 

Then the blue-haired woman smiled.

“Well,” she said, her voice a mix of lazy but charming, “you’re out here… aren’t you, sunshine?”

She took a step closer, cautious but curious, her gaze raking over Lux with open intrigue.

“Didn’t peg you for the ‘ditch your prince and sneak around the hedges’ type.”

Lux swallowed. There was danger here, yes—but it didn’t frighten her.

It thrilled her.

The rest of the day slipped by in a flurry of motion—Garen barking orders, staff scrambling, drills rehearsed in every hallway. Plans were laid with military precision, as if they were preparing for war rather than a heist. Lux moved through it all like a ghost, present but unnoticed, her thoughts already drifting far from the marble halls of House Crownguard.

“We go about our days as usual,” Garen addressed the staff once the security measures were finalized, “but from now on, every entry will be monitored. No exceptions.”

They weren’t just preparing for a thief. They were preparing for the thief.

No other highborn house had succeeded in thwarting the elusive figure known only as the Bluejay. Not House Laurent, not House Buvelle. Not even the formidable Kirammans. The legend had begun a few years back, when a vault deep in the heart of the Kiramman estate was cracked open without a sound. Millions in jewels vanished, and all that remained was a single spray of graffiti on the inside of the safe: a cobalt-blue bird in flight.

Since then, the Bluejay had appeared across the globe. Skyscrapers in New York, museums in Paris, banks in Zurich, royal vaults from the East to the West—each location marked by that same taunting symbol. No casualties. No violence. Just daring escapes and a mocking wink left behind.

They had become a global icon—part myth, part menace. Merchandising followed. Shirts, masks, even coffee mugs adorned with that painted bird. Some called them a criminal. Others, a modern-day Lupin. Lux called her… Jinx.

And she was the only one in the world who knew it.

It was a secret that made her feel thrillingly, dangerously special.

Lux had followed the Bluejay’s escapades from the beginning. Stories of noble-hearted rogues were her favorite. They represented something she craved: freedom, rebellion, romance with sharp edges. And now, she wasn’t just a reader of the story—she was in it.

That evening, the Crownguard estate snapped to full alert. Augatha and Pieter had made a public statement, and the media storm followed like a pack of hounds. Lux retreated to the study, curling into her favorite chair by the window, phone in hand. A single video had gone viral.

“This ‘Bluejay’ may try to rob us,” Augatha announced to reporters with her signature charm. “The Crownguards accept the challenge. I’m honestly offended they think we need a forewarning.”

Beside her, Pieter added coldly, “Yes. An offense. That they will pay dearly for.”

Lux stared at the screen. Her pulse fluttered. What had started as a flirtatious bet now teetered on the edge of something far more dangerous.

Tianna entered the study, her heels clicking sharply against the marble floor. A phone pressed to her ear, her voice was calm but steely. “Yes… I feel the same. We’ll be ready, Ms. Kiramman.”

Lux’s gaze lifted at the name. Tianna caught the look and nodded.

“The detective arrives tomorrow morning,” she explained.

“Oh,” Lux murmured, the first of many questions answered—but not the most important.

Before she could ask more, Augatha breezed in like a storm in silk.

“Luxanna, darling, there you are!” she beamed. “Look at what just arrived.”

Two servants followed. One, a bespectacled maid, carrying an extravagant bouquet of blue and yellow roses, the other a long rectangular box topped with a decadent yellow silk bow. They placed the items delicately before Lux.

She blinked. “Who—?”

“From your fiancé, of course.” Augatha handed her a plain white card, practically glowing with triumph. “See? Prince Jarvan finally comes to his senses.”

Inside the card, only a few words were written in looping black ink:

Because I missed you.
– J

Lux froze.

“This is the first good news all day!” Augatha declared, giddy. “We’ve got him right where we want him.”

Tianna, ever composed, tilted her head slightly. “I didn’t think him the type for sentimental gestures… or gestures at all.”

“Neither did I,” Lux whispered.

She turned the card over. Along the edge—barely visible—a faint streak of blue paint.

Her breath caught.

She looked over the bouquet. Nestled, hidden, between two blue roses was a single feather—sleek, delicate, and unmistakably blue.

A Bluejay feather.

“And it seems you’re finally warming to him as well,” Tianna remarked, clearly noting the flush in Lux’s cheeks.

“I…” Lux straightened quickly, her voice suddenly too high. “It’s such a lovely gift. I’ll… take them to my room.”

She scooped up the flowers and box, offering no further explanation, and hurried down the hall before anyone could stop her.

Once inside her room, she locked the door behind her, her heart drumming against her ribs. The chocolates she placed on the desk without looking. Her focus was on the feather, now cradled in her palm, and the card she reread three times.

Because I missed you.
– J

Her fingers trembled.

A small, reckless smile curled at the corner of her lips.

“Oh, Jinx…”

Laughter rang through the garden—loud, unfiltered, and wildly alive. It wasn’t the delicate, practiced laugh of a noblewoman, but the full-throated joy of someone who knew what it meant to be free.

Luxanna blushed, she sat flustered beneath the arch of blooming roses that draped like a canopy above them. Moonlight bathed the secluded garden in silver, glinting off the cascading blue braids of the thief standing across from her.

“I didn’t think I’d meet one of my fans in the middle of a job,” the blue-haired woman chuckled, wiping a tear from her cheek, her grin shameless and bright.

“I’m not a fan,” Lux said too quickly, trying to recover some dignity. “I’m just… interested in yo—your story.”

The attempt at formality failed. The thief smirked and planted one boot on the bench, leaning in until her face hovered far too close to Lux’s.

“ Just my story?” she purred.

Magenta eyes locked with hers—sharp, vibrant, magnetic. Lux's breath caught. She dropped her gaze, a hand flying to cover her mouth, as if that could conceal the blush spreading across her cheeks.

“You’re an open book, Blondie,” the thief teased, stepping back with a smirk and easy confidence.

Lux swallowed her nerves. Every bit of training in etiquette and diplomacy felt useless here. This woman—this thief—disarmed her more thoroughly than any scandal or political ambush ever could. But she was a Crownguard. She would not be bested by smirks and stolen glances.

“Hmph. I have a name,” she said, lifting her chin with practiced poise.

The thief placed a hand dramatically over her heart, adopting a theatrical air.

“Oh, my deepest apologies, fair lady,” she said in an overly pompous accent, bowing with comical grandeur. “How should I, a lowly commoner, address one of such divine pedigree?”

Lux groaned. “Augh, alright! I get it—stop.”

That earned another laugh. This time, Lux didn’t mind it as much.

“Just call me Lux.”

The thief straightened, her expression softening. “Lux…” she repeated, letting the name linger on her tongue. Her voice lowered, almost reverent. “Lovely name.”

She extended a hand with surprising grace. “I’m the master thief known as the Bluejay. But you,” she added with a wink, “can call me Jinx.”

Lux hesitated only a second before placing her hand into the thief’s. Jinx brought it to her lips, pressing a featherlight kiss to the back of it.

“A pleasure to meet you, Lux,” she murmured, looking up at her.

Lux withdrew quickly, cheeks burning, but couldn’t keep the smile off her lips. “Likewise.”

Jinx plopped down beside her on the bench, arms resting lazily along the backrest.

“You said you had questions,” she said. “Ask away. I’ve got time before the show starts.”

Lux hesitated, but curiosity won over propriety. The two of them slipped into easy conversation, laughter melting the tension between them. At first, Lux fumbled through the exchange, unsure how to speak so casually with a wanted criminal. But Jinx made it effortless—her charm unrefined but magnetic, her stories painted with wit and color.

Eventually, Lux couldn’t hold the question back.

“Why do you steal?” she asked softly.

Jinx tilted her head, considering.

“For the thrill,” she said. “I’m just having fun.”

Lux blinked, surprised at the simplicity of it.

“I’m not as noble as people like to believe,” Jinx added, almost defensively.

But Lux didn’t flinch. “Oh… What’s so fun about it?”

That earned a grin from Jinx.

“What isn’t ? I get to see the world. Take from the rich, run from the boring. I dream up the wildest plans, then make them real. The heist, the escape, the chase—every second of it is alive.”

Her eyes lit up as she spoke, and Lux felt a pang of longing. She envied her—envied that sparkle, that energy, that sense of purpose. She wanted to live stories like that, not just read them in the safety of the family library.

But then a shadow crossed her expression. Her mother’s voice echoed in her memory—sharp, controlling, inescapable.

Jinx noticed the shift.

“Enough about me,” she said, leaning forward. “I’ve got a question.”

Lux looked at her, pulled from her thoughts.

“Why are you betrothed to golden boy? You didn’t look too happy earlier.”

The question caught her off guard. Her guard went up—but only for a second.

“Oh?” Lux replied, feigning innocence. “Were you watching me, Miss Jinx?”

Jinx rolled her eyes. “Hard not to.”

They both laughed, the tension lifted.

Lux exhaled slowly. “It was arranged years ago. My mother made sure of it.”

Jinx raised an eyebrow. “So you’re not into the golden meathead with the title?”

That pulled a laugh from Lux, light and genuine.

“Not really…” she admitted for the first time. “Jarvan’s… nice?”

Jinx made a face. “ Nice ? Yikes.”

“No, I mean—he’s not a bad person. I’ve known him since we were children. He’s my brother’s best friend. But it’s… not like that between us. We’re just two people stuck in the same old machine.”

Jinx’s expression softened. Her eyes, vivid as wildflowers, searched Lux’s face.

“So royalty’s not all banquets and ballroom gowns,” she murmured.

Lux gave a wistful smile. “Not quite.”

A gentle silence settled over them, deep and comfortable. Then Lux spoke again, quieter this time.

“I envy you,” she said. “You get to live the stories I’ve only read about. In another life… I would’ve loved to live a story like yours.”

Jinx looked at her, serious now.

“What’s stopping you?”

Lux stood between her brother and aunt, Tianna,  the ever-vigilant head of Crownguard security. Her parents had left the estate to tend to the family’s broader holdings, leaving Tinna in charge of security and household matters. Lux, for her part, had been instructed to stay home and assist. "Help your brother and aunt. Don't leave the house," her mother had said, as if Lux were still a child in need of supervision.

She stood quietly now, arms folded, mind far away. Her thoughts drifted to the memory of Jinx—the glint in her eye, the thrill of their last conversation. And the question she’d dared to ask.

Back then, Lux had answered without thinking. She’d repeated the line her mother had drilled into her: “It is my duty as the daughter of House Crownguard.” But that night had unsettled her. The words no longer sat right. What did that duty actually mean—beyond obedience and performance?

She was quietly grateful that Jarvan had buried himself in his royal obligations. Their courtship—if it could still be called that—existed only for public showings now. Her mother disapproved of the drift, but Lux felt relief, not regret. It wasn’t as if she had made an effort to repair it, either.

In the silence of the grand hall, Jinx’s voice echoed again: “What’s stopping you?”

Before she could follow the thought, a voice cut through.

“I doubt this ‘detective’ will be any help,” Garen said dryly.

Tianna glanced at him. “What do you mean, Garen?”

“If she were competent, the Bluejay would already be behind bars,” the man replied, folding his arms.

Tianna gave a low hum. “You may be right. Still, they’ve been studying this thief longer than we have. If nothing else, their insight might help us succeed where they’ve failed.”

She straightened, taking on her commanding tone. “And we shouldn't underestimate the Bluejay.”

Garen raised an eyebrow. “You think they’re that dangerous?”

It was Lux who answered. “The detective is Caitlyn Kiramman. Her family was the first to be targeted.”

Tianna turned toward Garen with casual confirmation. “She began privately, but now works with Interpol. For her, it’s personal.”

A chime rang through the manor—the doorbell.

Moments later, the butler opened the great front doors, and two women stepped into the marble foyer.

The first was tall, with dark hair neatly pulled back. She wore a deep blue coat over a black turtleneck, her posture sharp and poised—almost regal. The second woman followed a step behind: muscular, broad-shouldered, dressed in a worn leather jacket and heavy boots. Her hair was a vivid reddish-pink, one side shaved close, a VI tattoo just beneath her left cheekbone.

“Greetings,” Tianna said, stepping forward. “Welcome to House Crownguard.”

She extended a hand toward the first woman. “I’m Tianna Crownguard. This is my niece, Luxanna, and my nephew, Garen.”

Lux offered a short, formal bow. Garen gave a slight nod.

“A pleasure,” said the dark-haired woman, shaking Tianna’s hand before stepping back. “Detective Caitlyn Kiramman. And,  my partner, Vi Lane.”

Vi gave a small wave, her voice low and casual. “Hey.”

—

The rest of the day was spent in a blur of security demonstrations and polite formalities. Garen led the tour through the estate with commanding confidence, flanked by Tianna. Detective Caitlyn Kiramman and her partner, Vi, followed without complaint, silent observers more than guests.

“As you can see, all windows, doors, and access points are fully secured,” Tianna explained, gesturing toward sleek panels and hidden mechanisms embedded throughout the estate. “We’ve installed multiple layers of deterrents—motion-sensitive cameras, laser grids, weight-triggered flooring, biometric locks…”

“Yes,” Caitlyn said calmly, her voice cool and composed. “Breaking in would be… ambitious.”

“Yeah,” Vi muttered, chewing absently on a toothpick, her tone laced with casual skepticism.

Throughout the walkthrough, the two women said little. Occasionally Caitlyn asked a sharp, specific question or nodded in approval. Vi kept her hands in her jacket pockets, letting her eyes roam without expression, but Lux noticed the way she lingered on details, tracking every sensor, every seam in the marble floors.

Lux trailed behind the group by a few paces, her eyes not on the estate, but on them.

Caitlyn, tall and statuesque, moved with effortless authority. But it was Vi who drew Lux’s gaze. There was something about the redhead that tugged at her memory—something in the slope of her brow, the angle of her jaw. Her eyes were different, but the stare... That stare—

“—jinx it.”

The words, spoken low, snapped Lux out of her thoughts. Her heart jumped.

“Excuse me?” she blurted out, louder than she meant to. All heads turned.

Tianna raised an eyebrow. “Oh. It’s something your great-grandfather used to say,” she said, brushing it off. “You never wish someone luck before a hunt. Bad omen. You’ll jinx it.”

Lux felt a flicker of panic—a cold sweat blooming under her collar. Jinx. The word echoed in her ears like a guilty whisper.

“Oh,” she murmured, willing her voice to sound steady. “Must’ve misheard. No matter. Shall we move on?” She turned quickly to her brother. “Garen, we haven’t shown them the vault.”

“Ah, of course,” Garen said, ever eager. “Follow me, please. We've already moved several of our most valuable heirlooms inside, but I’ve been considering leaving a piece out—as bait, perhaps. To draw the thief in.”

He launched into a stream of ideas, a hunter already preparing the trap. The group moved down the hall, but Lux felt eyes on her.

Vi had fallen behind, whispering something into Caitlyn’s ear. The detective only nodded, quiet and unreadable. A few steps later, Vi slowed her pace until she was walking beside Lux.

“Bit of a fortress for just one thief, don’t you think, Princess?” Vi’s tone was low, laced with something between amusement and suspicion.

Lux blinked. “I…”

“Wait, can I call you Princess?” Vi went on, grinning. “Or is that only official after the wedding?”

There was something disarming about her, like she could smile and gut you at the same time. It was… familiar.

Lux let out a soft, practiced laugh—more defense than amusement. “Luxanna is fine… Detective.”

Vi chuckled. “Cait’s the detective. I’m just the muscle. Call me Vi.”

She offered her hand, rough and calloused. Lux took it, her fingers lingering a beat too long.

“Pleased to make your acquaintance, Vi.”

“Likewise, Luxanna.”

They continued walking, falling into a quieter rhythm.

“Your brother’s pretty excited,” Vi added, jerking her chin toward the front of the group. “Cait’s going to have sore ears by the end of the tour.”

Lux giggled, softer now. “He’s… very competitive. Very protective.”

Vi gave a small hum. “Competitive, huh. Reminds me of my sister.” Her tone dipped slightly, then leveled out. “Good thing, too. He’ll need it if he wants to catch…”

A pause. Measured. Intentional.

“…Bluejay.”

Lux didn’t respond right away, catching the pause like a hook in her skin. “I’m sure he’s looking forward to the challenge,” she replied evenly.

They turned a corner, just shy of the vault. Vi’s voice came again, quieter.

“Can I ask you something?”

Lux met her gaze.

“You were at the last heist, weren’t you?”

Her breath caught. Does she know? The words rang in her mind. “Yes,” Lux answered carefully.

Vi smiled, but not kindly. “Just curious. This is a new situation for us. Usually, we arrive after the chaos—not before. This is a first for Bluejay. They’ve never announced a target in advance.”

Lux’s mind whirled, but she kept her expression neutral.

“Why do you think that is?” Vi asked, watching her closely.

Lux thought for a moment. “Maybe they’re bored,” she said softly. “Maybe they wanted to raise the stakes.”

Vi tilted her head. “Thrill seeker… yeah. That does sound like them.”

They walked on, the sounds of Garen’s voice and Caitlyn’s footsteps echoing ahead.

“Your family’s in the spotlight now,” Vi continued. “The engagement, the media… puts a big target on your back.” A beat. “But why do you think Bluejay chose you ?”

Lux hesitated.

Because I made a bet. The thought hit her like a drumbeat in her chest.

“I don’t know,” she lied. “Like you said, we’re high profile.”

Vi said nothing at first. She just nodded, chewing her toothpick like she was chewing on Lux’s words. Her eyes never left her.

The others moved into the vault, but Vi lingered, still blocking her path.

“There were reports,” she said slowly, “of a woman with blue hair posing as catering staff during the party.”

Lux froze.

Vi’s eyes were sharp now. “Did you happen to see her?”

Lux’s heart thundered in her chest. She knows. Or suspects enough.

But before she could muster an answer, a bespectacled maid appeared at the end of the hall. Her auburn hair bobbed as she got closer. 

“Lady Lux,” she called, “a package has arrived for you.”

Caitlyn, Tianna and Garen exited the vault at the sound of the interruption.

“A package?” Garen asked, instantly alert. “From whom? Was it screened properly?”

The auburn-haired maid bowed. “Another gift, sir.”

The surprise rippled through them.

“Another? From Jarvan?” Garen said, surprised.

“Oh, I must see to it,” Lux said quickly, bowing her head. “Please excuse me.”

She turned to Caitlyn and Vi, her voice composed. “It was a pleasure meeting you, Detective. Vi.”

Then she turned on her heel and walked briskly down the corridor, heart pounding with every step.

Behind her, Caitlyn looked at Vi and raised an eyebrow.

Vi met her gaze and gave a small, deliberate nod.

—

Lux closed the door to her room with a quiet click, leaning back against it for a breath she didn’t realize she was holding. Her gaze drifted across the room—drawn, as if by gravity, to the gift waiting on her desk.

Wrapped in simple brown kraft paper, was a book. Lux crossed the room slowly. The handwriting on the attached note was familiar now, unruly and full of confidence:

For your collection of stories. I keep thinking of our bet. Hope you’re ready!
–J

Lux read it once. Then again. Then a third time, her fingers trembling slightly. Her mind replayed their final exchange like a record with a scratch, always catching on the same words. The bet.

Her heart fluttered. Not the soft thrill of a crush this time—but something deeper, something heavier. Because alongside the warmth was fear.

Jinx hadn’t just teased the Crownguards—she had challenged them, provoked them, mocked them. The stakes had risen with each passing minute, and Lux could no longer pretend she wasn’t complicit.

She pressed the note to her chest and closed her eyes for a moment. Then she sat down and carefully unwrapped the gift.

Her breath caught.

Beneath the paper was The Amateur Cracksman —not just any edition, but the very first print. Its leather cover worn with age, its title pressed in faded gold leaf.

Lux opened it gently, reverently. The pages whispered as she turned them, and then—

A flower.

Pressed between the pages was a single white and yellow plumeria. Soft, delicate, preserved with impossible care. Lux lifted it carefully, cradling it between her fingers as though it might dissolve.

A tear rolled down her cheek. She didn’t wipe it away.

“I don’t know if I am,” she whispered.

Lux and Jinx wandered slowly through the moonlit garden, the mansion glowing distantly behind a veil of roses and ivy. Lantern light pooled on the cobblestone path, soft and flickering, while the murmur of distant laughter from the gala melted into the night. The two of them moved in step, their conversation hushed and conspiratorial, as though the flowers themselves might be listening.

Jinx was mid-story, retelling a particularly absurd heist—how she’d bluffed her way past guards, rerouted security cameras with chewing gum, and left the police chasing phantoms through the city. Lux listened, utterly entranced. The velvet evening, the wine, the music—all of it faded beneath the sound of Jinx’s voice. For a moment, she forgot why she was even at this party.

“I even heard Interpol brought in some fancy detective just to catch me,” Jinx boasted, lifting her chin with theatrical pride. “But they never will.”

Lux rolled her eyes, smiling despite herself. “Never say never.” She reached out, catching Jinx by the wrist. “After all, I caught you.”

Jinx halted mid-step, caught off guard. Her eyes flicked down to Lux’s hand, then back to her face, hovering somewhere between surprise and denial.

“This one doesn’t count,” she said quickly, voice rising with sudden urgency. “You just got lucky.”

Lux was slow to react. A slow, wide smile bloomed across her face, and then—suddenly—she laughed. A real laugh. Not the polite, practiced kind she gave at dinners and fundraisers, but a full, unguarded laugh that shook her shoulders and made her eyes shine.

“I’m sorry,” she said between soft giggles. “You’re right. This one doesn’t count. You still have your perfect record.”

Jinx sighed, slouching theatrically. “Now it feels like you’re pitying me. Ugh. No. I’m gonna have to fix that.”

Lux raised an eyebrow, teasing. “What, going to rob the King of England next?”

Jinx leaned closer, wrapping her fingers around Lux’s hand. Her grin sharpened. “No… I’m going to steal from the Crownguards.”

Lux’s laughter died on her lips. She looked up—really looked—and saw that Jinx wasn’t joking.

“Miss Jinx,” Lux whispered, “you can’t be serious. If my aunt even sees you, she’ll shoot first and ask questions… never.”

Jinx hummed, amused. Lux went on, stumbling slightly over her words as she tried to explain—the guards, the bloodline pride, the ridiculous security. “Jinx, you're incredible, but even you couldn’t steal from the Crownguard estate. Our family pride wouldn’t allow it.”

Jinx’s eyes gleamed with something wild and dangerous. “Then let’s make it a bet.”

Lux blinked. “What?”

“I bet I can steal your family’s greatest treasure.” Jinx stood straighter now, every inch the rogue. “And to make it interesting… I’ll even warn them I’m coming.”

Lux opened her mouth, then closed it again. Her brain screamed to say no. To stop this madness before it started. But her heart… her heart was burning.

And before she could find her words, the sharp call of her name broke the spell.

“Luxanna! Where are you?” came the familiar bark of her mother’s voice. “The auction is starting soon and we will not miss it.”

Lux turned toward the sound, then looked back at Jinx.

Jinx glanced at her watch and smiled. “Well, Crownguard? What do you say?”

She held out her hand, not just as a dare—but as a promise. Her voice dipped low, teasing, intimate. “Do you accept?”

Lux stared at her. A thousand reasons to say no. And one reason to say yes.

“I accept,” she said quietly, and shook her hand.

A bet was made.

Jinx turned, heading off toward where she’d stashed her tools. Lux hesitated, then stepped back toward the mansion. But just as she reached the edge of the path, something tugged at her.

“Wait,” she called.

Jinx looked over her shoulder, one brow raised.

“If this is a bet… what do I get if I win?”

Jinx tilted her head in thought. “Hmm. I won’t lose,” she said matter-of-factly. “But I’ll let you decide.”

Then she grinned, that devil’s grin.

“But when I win…” She stepped back into the shadows, voice curling like smoke. “I want a kiss.”

Lux’s breath caught. “What?”

Her cheeks flushed red—an embarrassed, honest red that climbed to her ears.

Jinx winked, tossed her a blown kiss, and laughed. “Get ready, Luxie.”

“Luxanna!”

This time her mother’s voice was closer—sharp and impatient.

Lux turned, heart still pounding, and when she glanced back…

Jinx was gone.

Vanished into the night like a dream that slipped through your fingers the moment you woke.

“There you are,” Augatha said, emerging from the hedges in a flurry of silk and diamonds. “This is a very important night, Luxanna. I’ve given you enough time to breathe. Come, you cannot leave Jarvan’s side tonight.”

Lux took one last glance at the darkened garden, then followed.

Her steps felt lighter.

Her chest fluttered.

And her cheeks still glowed.

“You’re right, Mother,” she said softly. “It is an important night.”

A soft knock came at Luxanna’s door.

“Lady Lux, your mother is requesting your presence.”

The voice, calm and clipped, belonged to one of the maids.

Lux opened the door to find a spectacled young woman with auburn hair standing primly, hands folded before her. Her uniform was spotless, her posture impeccable.

“Where?” Lux asked, her voice low, already weary.

“In the east study, miss,” the maid replied.

Lux nodded silently and stepped past her, heading down the hall. The maid remained behind, watching her go. A sly smile crept across her lips.

“Oh, Blondie…” she murmured, before slipping into Lux’s room and closing the door behind her.

—

The street outside the Crownguard estate was still, cloaked in a velvet hush only broken by the soft patter of rain. Street lamps cast golden halos onto the slick pavement, their reflections dancing in the ripples of a gentle drizzle. Water slid lazily down the windshield of an unmarked car idling across from the gate, pooling in streaks over the glass.

Inside, two figures sat in silence, watching the house like hawks. Their eyes traced every shadow along the windows, every flicker behind the curtains.

“I still don’t get how Little Miss Princess got herself tangled up with her ,” Vi muttered, her voice low as she leaned against the steering wheel, thumb tapping lightly.

Caitlyn didn’t look away from her scope, peering through the high-powered lens aimed at the upper windows. “Rebellion,” she said flatly.

Vi tilted her head. “Rebellion?”

“Well, more like resentment.” Caitlyn adjusted the focus, lips tightening. “Luxanna’s entire life has been choreographed to the second. The friends she’s allowed to have. The man she’s expected to marry. And now? Jinx waltzes in and offers her something she’s never had—chaos. I think she’s using that to get closer to Jarvan.”

She dropped the scope and turned to face Vi. “Your sister’s playing a longer game. Bigger targets.”

Vi frowned. Her nose wrinkled like she'd caught a bad scent. “I don’t know, Cupcake. That doesn’t sit right with me.”

Her eyes flicked toward the estate, scanning it not like a cop, but like a sister. “Why all this performance? Why the taunts? She’s robbed more secure places without half the drama. There’s something here we’re not seeing.”

Vi leaned back and crossed her arms, her gaze locking on a familiar third-floor window—one light on, a figure moved behind drawn curtains.

Lux’s window.

“All we know is she’s in deeper than she’s letting on,” Vi said, her voice low, measured.

Caitlyn sighed. “If Jinx lays a single finger on the future princess, she becomes an international fugitive. Enemy number one. And if that happens…”

“We’ll have to expose her,” Vi finished for her. “Yeah, I remember the deal.”

She glanced over, tone lightening with a crooked smile. “But she hasn’t hurt anyone yet. And I don’t think she’ll start now.”

Caitlyn gave her a sideways look. “Why the certainty?”

Vi shrugged. “Maybe she’s not trying to use the princess…” She smirked. “Maybe she’s trying to steal her heart.”

Caitlyn groaned, rolling her eyes. “Really?”

But before she could offer a comeback, a faint buzzing cut through the rain.

The women went still. The sound grew—a low mechanical whine, rising in pitch.

“What is that?” Caitlyn asked, reaching instinctively for her gear.

They looked up, squinting through the misty dark. A shadow moved across the sky—barely visible against the clouds.

A drone. Large. Loud. Carrying something.

A sack.

And then, without warning, the drone dropped its cargo.

A canvas sack burst open midair, scattering hundreds—no, thousands—of paper flyers into the wind. They rained down in a chaotic flurry, blanketing the estate grounds and street like confetti.

A few smacked against the windshield.

Vi wiped one off the glass. Her eyes narrowed as she read it.

Bold fluorescent blue letters:
NOW!

She flipped it.

A crude, spray-paint style drawing of a bluejay stared back at her.

“Shit,” she muttered.

They burst from the car, boots slamming pavement. The heist had begun.

—

“You asked for me, Mother?” Luxanna entered the east study, where her mother sat alone, delicately sipping tea from a porcelain cup.

Augatha looked up with faint surprise. “I… didn’t.”

Lux tilted her head, frowning—but Augatha’s expression suddenly brightened, a thought occurring to her.

“But now that you’re here,” she said, her tone shifting into something eager, calculated. “I heard Jarvan sent you another gift.”

Lux forced a small smile. “Yes, Mother. He did. It was… thoughtful. I liked it.”

She told the truth—just not all of it.

“Wonderful!” Augatha clapped her hands together. “Then I think it’s time we move to the next step.”

Lux blinked. “What?”

Her mother rose gracefully and walked toward her, placing both hands on Lux’s shoulders, as though delivering good news.

“Get ready. Starting tomorrow, you’ll be staying with the Prince.”

Lux’s breath caught. “Wha—?”

“Your relationship is progressing nicely. Time to seal it,” Augatha continued, smiling like a hostess announcing seating arrangements. “You’ll stay with Jarvan while I begin work on your wedding. It’s finally time.”

Lux felt the blood drain from her face. Her knees threatened to give.

“But Mother, we’re moving too fast—”

“Nonsense,” Augatha cut her off sharply. “Everything’s already in order. I was just waiting to see how Jarvan would respond. But with the gifts…” She trailed off with satisfaction. “Yes. He’s ready.”

Lux stared at her, not as a daughter to a mother—but as a person to the architect of a life she didn’t choose.

“…No,” she said.

The word was barely audible.

“What was that, dear?” Augatha leaned in. “Speak up. You’re a Crownguard.”

Lux lifted her head. “No.”

Her mother’s grip tightened on her shoulders, nails biting into the fabric of her dress. “Excuse me?”

“No, Mother.”

The words were steady now—sharp as a blade unsheathed. Their eyes met, and Lux didn’t flinch.

“You’ve had your fun,” Augatha hissed. “It’s time to fulfill your—”

“My life isn’t yours to orchestrate!” Lux shouted.

The room fell into stunned silence.

Then, Augatha’s hand lashed out. The slap echoed off the marble walls.

Lux staggered a half step, the sting blooming across her cheek. She blinked, stunned, and slowly turned to face her mother.

Augatha was staring at her own hand, as though it had betrayed her. Her expression faltered—no longer sure, no longer triumphant.

She opened her mouth to speak.

But the doors burst open before she could.

Garen stormed in, a paper in his hand. His face was tight with urgency. “It’s the Bluejay. They’re here.”

He held up a flyer—the symbol was unmistakable.

The air in the room changed instantly.

“We have to move. I’ll escort you back to your rooms,” Garen said.

He didn’t wait for a response. He placed a protective hand on Lux’s back and led her out. Augatha followed, silent for once.

In the hallway leading toward the grand staircase, they crossed paths with Tianna, flanked by the two Interpol agents—Vi and Caitlyn—moving swiftly in the opposite direction, toward the vault.

Vi slowed and turned. Her eyes caught Lux’s.

Something in her gut twisted.

But before she could process it—

“Vi, what are you doing? We have to hurry!” Caitlyn called out.

Vi hesitated… then turned away.

“Yeah,” she said under her breath. “Yeah, I’m coming.”

And she disappeared down the corridor.

—

Garen walked Lux back to her room in silence. At her door, he paused.

“No matter what happens tonight,” he said, voice low but firm, “don’t come out.”

Lux nodded, her hand already on the doorknob. He turned to go—but then stopped, his shoulders rising with a breath he hadn’t meant to hold.

“Listen…” he began. “I spoke with Jarvan.”

She froze. Her hand lifted instinctively toward her mouth.

“I—I…”

The words wouldn’t come.

“I know the gifts weren’t from him,” Garen said gently. “After all this is over… I’ll talk with Mother.”

He offered her a smile then—lopsided, soft. The smile of a brother trying to protect his sister.

And then he left.

Lux stood there for a moment, his words echoing in her chest. Only when the hallway light faded did she let herself exhale. Her eyes stung, tears welling as quietly as moonlight.

She pushed open the door to her room.

It was dark inside. Still.

But not empty.

A cool breeze brushed against her ankles.

Her brows furrowed. That was… strange.

She stepped in cautiously, her heels soft against the rug. The only illumination came from the desk lamp—casting a gentle golden glow across the far side of the room.

And the window.

It was open.

Lux gasped.

Perched on the windowsill, legs dangling outside, was the maid from earlier. She was gazing down at the street below casually.

“What—what are you doing in here?” Lux asked, stunned, taking a step forward.

The maid turned slowly. Her cheeks were puffed out, full of something. Lux’s eyes darted to the desk beside her—an open box of chocolates.

“Those were—!”

Lux’s voice rose with outrage, but the maid lifted a finger, asking for a moment as she chewed rapidly. Then she pointed toward the desk.

Lux followed her gesture. Sitting in the pool of warm light was a small box, wrapped with a blue ribbon.

“A gift?” she whispered.

The maid nodded, still chewing.

Lux crossed the room. Her fingers hesitated at the lid before lifting it. Inside, nestled in velvet, was a postcard. A watercolor painting of a white sand beach, palm trees swaying in the breeze. Beneath it… a sleek wristwatch.

The screen blinked softly:
Ready!

Lux recognized it instantly.

Jinx’s.

Lux’s breath caught. She turned the postcard over, heart pounding.

On the back, in unmistakably messy handwriting:

Freedom for the greatest treasure I’ve ever seen — Jinx

A jolt of electricity surged through her.

She knew, then. What Jinx was after. She was the prize.

The maid cleared her throat delicately. “I couldn’t resist. They’re my favorite chocolates.”

Lux froze.

That voice. That damnably familiar voice.

She turned slowly.

“There’s this island in the Caribbean,” the maid said, stepping down from the windowsill, “Long beaches. Clear turquoise waters…”

As she spoke, she removed her glasses and tucked them into a pocket. Then, with care, she picked out her contact lenses.

“I visit it sometimes. Between jobs.” Her fingers reached up again—this time pulling free the auburn wig.

Blue hair spilled over her shoulders like a storm.

Jinx smiled.

“But I’ve never taken anyone with me before.”

Lux stared. For a heartbeat, the world narrowed to the space between them.

Jinx was in her room.

“How long?” Lux tried to ask, but her voice cracked with disbelief.

“Oh, this?” Jinx gestured to the disguise. “Since the beginning.”

Lux’s mind reeled. The maid who handed her flowers. Who interrupted Vi. Who lingered in the corners, always watching.

Her jaw dropped.

Jinx grinned triumphantly. “I am the best.”

She stepped closer. Her swagger softened when her eyes landed on the bruised swell of Lux’s cheek.

Jinx reached out, hesitated—then stopped just shy of her face.

Lux leaned in, pressing her skin into Jinx’s waiting hand.

The thief closed her eyes.

When she spoke again, her voice was quiet. Gentle. Serious.

“When you press the button on the watch… it’ll trigger a chain reaction. All across the house. Power surges. Locks disengaging. Chaos.”

Lux listened.

“It’s your window,” Jinx said. “Your way out.”

She looked into Lux’s eyes.

“But only if you want it.”

Lux turned, took the watch. It was warm in her palm. Her fingers curled around it.

The choice was hers.

And it wasn’t even hard.

She turned back to Jinx—and smiled.

Jinx’s expression lit up, her voice teasing once more. “So… who won the bet?”

Lux rolled her eyes—and kissed her.

Not a stolen kiss. Not hesitant or unsure. It was deep, hungry, full of every word they hadn’t said and every second they’d dreamed of this moment.

It was everything.

And it was just the beginning.

—

Guards rushed through the manor like blood through veins—up and down stairwells, across polished corridors, their radios crackling with updates.

“Your parents are secured in the safe room. Fourth and third floors, clear,” one reported, saluting Garen as he paced toward the vault.

“Second and ground floors also clear,” another confirmed, breathless.

Garen’s jaw tightened. “Run it again. All of it. Keep moving. We don’t stop until we find them.”

He turned sharply, eyes narrowed. Where are you?

Around the next corner, he spotted Tianna, Caitlyn, and Vi standing outside the great steel door of the vault. Tianna’s arms were crossed, speaking with Caitlyn in low, clipped tones. Vi lingered behind them, pacing, her mind visibly racing.

Garen approached.

“Nothing,” he said. “The house is clear.”

Tianna’s sigh was sharp. She turned to Caitlyn. “Are we even certain it was the Bluejay? Could this be a decoy? A distraction?”

Caitlyn shook her head, expression grim. “No. It’s them…”

A heavy silence settled over the group.

Then Vi looked up—eyes wide, mind suddenly alight. She stepped forward quickly, voice urgent.

“Your sister—was she in her room when the flyers dropped?”

Garen blinked. “What? No, she was with our mother. I took her back to her room after—”

Vi didn’t wait for him to finish. She broke into a full sprint down the corridor.

“Hey! Where are you going?!” Garen shouted, but she was already gone.

Caitlyn’s eyes widened as the pieces clicked into place. “Shit! They’re after Lux!”

She ran after Vi.

Tianna didn’t hesitate. Neither did Garen.

Vi pushed through the halls like a bullet, her instincts screaming louder with every step. She replayed every image—Lux’s room, the figure behind the curtain, the nagging wrongness she hadn’t had time to process. That wasn’t Lux.

That was Jinx.

Footsteps thundered behind her as Caitlyn and the others caught up. The stairwell loomed ahead. They took it two steps at a time—

Then darkness swallowed the house.

The lights went out in a blink.

They froze.

A split-second later, they surged back on—brighter than floodlights—and immediately exploded, showering the halls in glass and sparks.

A chorus of soft explosions followed—pops and thuds in quick succession—and then came the smoke. Thick, curling blue plumes rushed from vents and walls, filling the house like a rising tide.

And then the alarm.

A shrieking, gut-rattling wail that drowned out thought itself.

Chaos. Total, unrelenting chaos.

“BLUEJAY!” Vi bellowed over the din. Her silhouette lunged forward, arms shielding her face from the smoke and glass.

The others followed, struggling through the blinding fog and roaring alarm until they reached a single door—Lux’s.

—

“You ready, Luxie?” Jinx asked with a roguish grin as she adjusted the black harness cinched around Lux’s waist.

Lux exhaled hard, trying to shake the nerves rattling in her ribcage. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”

Jinx smiled—and leaned in for a kiss.

But just as their lips brushed, a loud bang shook the door.

“Lux! Open up!” Garen’s voice collided with Vi’s—raw and urgent.

Lux turned toward the door. Her heart pounded.

Jinx grabbed her hand, the grin returning. “Guess they found us.”

She tugged Lux toward the window. The wind rushed in, city lights glittering far below.

Bang! The door shuddered under another blow.

They stepped onto the windowsill.

Lux’s eyes flicked down—and her stomach twisted.

BANG! Another crash —the door burst open.

Garen and Vi stumbled into the dark room, followed closely by Caitlyn and Tianna.

“HEY SIS!” Jinx called with glee, her hand wrapped around Lux’s waist. “Meet my girlfriend!”

“ Sis—Sister?! ” Lux stammered, wide-eyed.

“ Girlfriend?! ” the room echoed in disbelief.

“Yup!” Jinx winked, planting a dramatic kiss on Lux’s cheek.

Lux’s entire face flushed crimson. No denying it now.

“You—Wha—NO!” Garen yelled, pointing an accusing finger. “Absolutely not! I won’t let you abduct my sister!”

“She’s not,” Lux interrupted, her voice rising with sudden strength. “I’m going with her!”

Silence thundered louder than the alarms. The words left everyone stunned.

Jinx beamed. “You heard her!”

She gave them a cheeky wave. “Bye, Sis. Better luck next time.”

And with that, the two of them jumped.

“NO!”

“JINX!”

“LUX!”

The group surged to the window, horror twisting in their guts—only to see the pair sailing effortlessly down a zipline, gliding above the manicured gardens and landing in the street below.

Waiting at the curb was a sleek sports car.

They climbed in, blew one last kiss up to the window—and were gone.

The alarm fell silent.

The lights stopped flickering.

The house stood still.

The four figures inside Lux’s room turned away from the window, ready to chase—

But stopped dead once more.

Sprayed across the wall above Lux’s bed, painted in bold sweeping strokes, was a graffiti mural:

A bluejay and a dove, wings wide, bursting from a shattered golden cage.

Freedom, painted in flight.

Some Time Later on Some Island in the Caribbean 

The morning sun cast golden light over a quaint seaside cabin, where a woman of unmistakable elegance lounged on the porch. She wore a white swimsuit, its matching cover-up draped loosely around her shoulders, fluttering gently in the breeze. With one leg folded over the other, she read the morning paper, the soft hush of waves brushing the shore creating the perfect soundtrack to the day.

Salt-tinged air tousled her golden hair and sent a rustle through the pages. She reached up absently to tuck a loose strand behind her ear—adjusting the delicate white-and-yellow plumeria that rested there—then steadied the paper and turned the page.

A headline caught her eye.
“Princess Kidnapped by Master Thief? Fifth Anniversary of the Disappearance of Luxanna Crownguard.”

Her blue eyes lingered on the words, and a quiet, nostalgic smile touched her lips.

“Five years, huh?” she murmured to herself.

Her gaze lifted to the horizon, where the sky met the sea in an endless stretch of blue. Memories rose unbidden—vivid, exhilarating, chaotic. A life transformed by love and larceny.

She remembered the escape after stealing from the five largest casinos in Las Vegas.  The echo of engines behind them as they skimmed through Venice’s narrow canals on a stolen speedboat. The press of laughter in her ear as they escaped a Paris gala with the rarest pink diamond in existence tucked inside her purse.

It had all been madness. Beautiful, reckless, unforgettable madness. And she had not been alone for any of it. 

She glanced at her left hand. The ring on her finger shimmered in the light—two stones, one blue and one yellow, set delicately together. The prize of their latest heist. 

"Hey, Lux! What are you waiting for? The water’s perfect!"
The voice came from the beach—bright, wild, unmistakable.

Luxanna’s eyes searched the shore until she saw her: Jinx, knee-deep in the surf, waving her arms with unfiltered joy. Wearing a simple pink and black bikini. Her hair was a wet mess of electric blue, her grin wide enough to rival the sun.

Lux folded the paper, setting it gently aside. She rose, letting her cover-up slide off her shoulders and onto the porch chair, and walked barefoot across the warm sand.

The water kissed her ankles as she stepped into the shallows, eyes never leaving Jinx. The moment they reached each other, Jinx opened her mouth to speak.

“There you are—”

But Lux silenced her with a kiss, long and tender, arms slipping around Jinx’s neck. When she pulled back, just enough to breathe, Jinx looked at her in stunned delight.

“Whoa. What was that for?”

Lux smiled, brushing her nose against hers. “Just… to thank you. For stealing me away that day.”

Jinx’s expression softened, her arms winding around Lux’s waist.

The two stood there, forehead to forehead, in the sunlit surf as turquoise waters sparkled around them. The Bluejay & The Dove.

THE END