Thief

Hester was a thief. A very good one, to say at least. Not a random street pickpocket, she had way too much potential for that. She's stolen from barons, viscounts, earls and dukes. But that time, she tried to aim even higher.

That's why she was trying to climb over the fence to the palace's gardens. She knew exactly what she was doing, having done this many times before, but her clothing, much bigger than she needed, betrayed her and got hung on one of the spikes. She cursed all the tailors in the country for not making women's pants, forcing her to steal clothes from men bigger than her. As she struggled to take it off, her hand slipped and she fell ungraciously onto the ground.

She cursed and tried to figure out how badly she had been hurt. Fortunately, it would only end up with a few bruises. When she was getting up and brushing off fallen leaves, she heard quiet laughing.

She looked around the garden, only illuminated by the moon and stars to look for the source of the voice. Finally, she saw a pale woman, around the same age as her, pale as the stars in the sky, sitting on branches of the largest tree there.

"Very funny," she muttered.

"Should I ask what are you doing in the royal gardens?" asked the stranger, her voice cold and raspy.

"Should I ask the same question?"

"I live here. You're trespassing."

Hester carefully examined her, she was wearing normal, peasant clothing, but she looked much cleaner than regular women. Maybe she was a maid?

"What if I left really quickly and you wouldn't call the guards?"

"Calm down, I'm not calling anyone. But it would be nice if you stayed for a bit, I'm lonely."

"Midnight isn't the best time to talk to people."

"It's not the best time to sneak into royal gardens either, but you're here."

Hester wanted to turn away and leave, but for reasons unknown to her, she chose to stay and slowly climbed onto the tree next to the mysterious woman.

From close distance, Hester realised she was naturally really pale, her skin was the beauty ideal so many women tried hard to achieve with makeup. (Only for the small price of lead poisoning, of course) She was quite striking too, reminding her of a porcelain doll or a painting, just a pure work of art.

"With looks like that, she could easily be one of the king's mistresses. But that would mean she wouldn't be dressed in maid clothes, right?" thought Hester, but she realised there was no point in thinking about it too much.

She simply asked: "What do you work as in the palace?"

"Wouldn't say I exactly work," she said, clearly amused by the thought.

"What do you mean?"

"You probably aren't from around here, right?"

"No," Hester admitted.

"I'm the eldest daughter of Richard II."

Hester almost choked on air. Of course, only someone with her bad luck could choose such a terrible time to try to steal from the palace. "I'm sorry your, uhm, majesty."

"If you want to be proper, it's "your royal highness" actually."

Hester couldn't tell if she was being sarcastic or not, but she quickly said: "My apologies."

She just shrugged. "Good for you that I'm not in the mood for executions." Yes, she was definitely being sarcastic.

"The name is Anadil. You've probably heard of me, considering that I'm the first in the line for the throne. And you are?" She eyed her in expectation.