The Princess and The Captain

Part 6- The Thief

It was a busy night on the streets of Lilith. The pothole-riddled streets were filled with merchants shouting as travelers passed them by. Taverns erupted with laughter, brawls, or both from time to time. Stray dogs howled at the large, white disc hanging in the sky. Above it all, a slim figure lurked on the roof of a rickety fabric store. Lyra had been sitting on this rooftop since sunset. She had heard whispers of precious stones and fabrics fit for royalty being brought into this store under the cover of darkness nights ago.

Lyra scoffed at the thought. 'Fit for royalty.' As if anyone else in this kingdom would have the chance to be wealthy enough for a frilly dress. With orders from the king to increase taxes every few months, commoners never got a chance to do something so luxurious. Lyra's own mother worked her ass off until one day, she was too tired to do anything but fade away from this earth. That wouldn't be Lyra's story.

So she waited and waited. Twirling her long, dark, glossy curls, she stared up at the stars above. Thick eyebrows furrowed as she counted them to pass time. She ran a hand over the rough leather that cloaked her cocoa-colored skin as she grew impatient for the wild city below to take its rest. This was the part she hated most about thievery. The waiting. Though she wouldn't say, she necessarily loved any part of it. Sure, it was exciting. Trading information with shadier characters than herself, scaling buildings, breaking and entering—even getting caught and escaping law-keepers was fun in its own way—but it was all getting incredibly predictable. Still, she had siblings at home to feed, and though unsavory, criminal activity was one way to ensure they didn't go hungry.

She glanced down at the dusty streets again to find that the merchants had all gone home, the taverns were only occupied by a few drunken idiots now, and even the stray dogs had found some shelter to lay their heads for the evening. With a sly grin, Lyra stood, finally, from her position. A yawn slipped out of her mouth as she stretched, ready to get this over with. She checked her pockets and the inside of her boots for hidden knives. She would have preferred her strong and reliable bow but knew it wouldn't allow her to be as agile as she needed to be for this particular job. Last but not least, she ensured she had a single rose tucked away inside her leather coat. Her fingers grazed over the soft petals as her mother's words echoed in her mind, the gods demand balance, Lyra. 

Lyra placed a thick hood over her head to cover her features, then slinked down the side of the building with ease. She peeked through a tiny window and observed a small, blonde woman sitting in the middle of the illuminated room with her back toward Lyra. The woman was humming to herself as she put the finishing touches on the most beautiful dress Lyra had ever seen. The cloaked thief scanned the rest of the room. Beautiful fabrics indeed. Exquisite tunics, vests, belts, shoes, but no guards. No one at all except the seamstress. Surely the woman wasn't foolish enough to have this quality of goods laying about with no protection. Lyra almost felt bad. Almost left and returned home with nothing for the night. But then she saw it. Sapphires unlike any other, displayed for anyone to see. Sapphires from the Kingdom of Kane. Lyra had heard that they glittered and glowed as if they knew they were the best of their kind, and the thief couldn't help but agree with the description. She would take them. Just them. No fabrics, no gold the seamstress might have stocked away. That necklace would be more than enough to get her family on their feet, and it would be hers in just a few moments.

She wouldn't have to be quick and quiet for a lady with no protection at all. She could take the necklace without suspicion in the woman's presence.

With this thought, Lyra lowered her hood and made her way to the front door. She knocked twice and waited patiently.

When the door swung open, Lyra couldn't help but admire the seamstress's beauty. She was met with a piercing green gaze that seemed friendly enough. The woman stood a few inches shorter than Lyra. Her cheeks were flushed, likely from the cold wind now blowing against them. Lyra noticed the curve of her lips and the waviness of her hair.