Viktorya ruffled up the skirt of her dress. She needed to look less suspicious. Someone confidently leaving the main room of a party would be suspicious, but someone doing so awkwardly would only get questions about their health, and not if they’re carrying a safe-cracking kit with them—not that she was.
The room was full of people, as suspected, and none of them would care about her, probably. Many of them were centralized around their tall, dark host. She closed her eyes as she stepped in the room. Every possible direction led to her being stopped by someone—the same someone in all of them, but not much detail. She was being watched. She slid her hand down her braid, mussing it up a bit. If she was going to avoid suspicion, awkward was often the way to go.
She navigated through to the other side of the room with an occasional “excuse me” and “very sorry, I just—thank you.” Then she ran directly into someone. She tried to step back, but nearly fell into the crowd. Luckily her stranger grabbed her by the arm and pulled her up before she could get run over.
“Are you okay, ma’am?”
“Not really. I’m not actually supposed to be here.” she looked up at him, and froze.
He had a handsome face—angular, with a softness around the cheeks that made her want to squeeze them, and shoulder length blond hair that framed it well—but it was one she recognized. Viktorya was an Oracle—one who sees through time—and she was looking at the very literal man of her dreams.
“Where are you supposed to be?” he asked.
She let herself stare a minute more, for the act.
“Back home, probably reading a book.” she rubbed her arms as if she was nervous, “This was a last minute thing for work, and I don’t even live in this state.”
“Where do you work?”
Oh no. It had been awhile since she’d had to lie this much. She usually just avoided people.
“I genuinely forgot the name,” she laughed, “I’ve only been working there a few months, and I mostly just handle internal documents. A lot of people got sick for me to be here.”
How did she successfully make all that up?
“Well I was going to offer to help you meet Mr. Shepherd, but if you’re not sure who you’re here for…”
“He might know! Just tell him Ms. Holmwood is here, and my company should have told him.”
Handsome stranger gave a nod and left her alone. She continued. Every possibility she saw meant she shouldn’t see him again. She took a deep breath, and searched how to get to the actual vault.
Rather directly apparently. Through the bedroom, into a long closet with women’s clothes—wasn’t Gareth Shepherd a bachelor?—and into a safe whose code she would learn when she got there. Simple.
The house was beautiful, and if she didn’t need to get this done so quickly, she’d have stopped to admire it more. There had to be secrets here any historian would die for.
Nobody interfered when she entered the closet, noted the women’s clothes looked much smaller than Mr. Shepherd’s size, and got to the vault door.
Instead of looking at the myriad futures until she got the combination, she turned her gaze back, to the near past of the door.
13-5-26
The door opened without trouble. She tapped the set of runes on her back, changing her dress to a comfortable pair of pants and the family leather armor.
The vault was large, larger than made any sense, though maybe if she saw the schematics, she’d be less confused. As it stood, it was larger than the already long walk-in closet.
She shook her head of the questions, and moved to her quarry, looking through the possibilities.
In every single one, without any audible alarm, the security in a silver suit she was warned about was blocking her exit.
She gave up, and finally just grabbed the thing.
“I’m not that big of a fan when it comes to parties either, but I would have mingled more if I were you.”
She looked up, and Handsome Stranger was also Security, leaning on the side of the door casual as possible. He looked even better without the jacket.
“I promise, I wasn’t rejecting you when I left,” she said, “I just had places to be.”
“Are you going to put it back?” he asked.
“Sorry, no. You see, I have a client to get this to, and he wants it tonight.”
Handsome Security Stranger kept his eyes on her as she moved.
“I don’t suppose there’s any way I can convince you to let me do my job in peace.”
“Sorry, job description: Don’t let thieves do their job in peace.”
She closed the distance a little further.
“Then why did you let me take the thing?”
“Because if I didn’t, Mr. Shepherd would have me let you go, and I need to know who hired you.”
“Have you considered a different line of work, because your boss doesn’t seem to appreciate what you do?”
He smiled, looking up, and she bolted.
He tripped her, grabbed her arm, and pulled her back inside, close to him.
“I would have expected better balance from someone in your line of work, but that trip in the hall was intentional, wasn’t it?”
She wasn’t getting here without a fight, and she had no information on how he actually fought. Might as well keep him talking.
“No one suspects a damsel in distress, but you clocked me the moment I walked in.”
That’s why he always came up to her, before she even viewed the possibilities, he knew who she was.
“Something felt off, but—” he didn’t stop Viktorya as she finally pulled away, backing further into the vault, “I wasn’t sure until you left the hall, and your posture changed.”
“Nobody saw me.”
She made sure of that.
“Who said anything about sight?”
What was that supposed to mean?
If she closed her eyes to see possibilities, she would be a sitting duck. He hadn’t come in to attack her yet, but she didn’t trust him not to.
“To put this plainly,” Handsome Stranger said, “There is no way to get past me without either extreme measures, or telling me who hired you. It’s your choice.”
He didn’t seem disturbed at the prospect of extreme measures.
“Why do you care?” she asked.
“It’s part of the job.”
“What if I don’t know who it is?”
“They at the very least gave you a pseudonym, and that I need to know.”
“Are you sure about that?”
“The Court of Thieves teaches its students to avoid suspicion by seeming awkward to passers by. Pity makes people look away. They also have rules about how to hire any of their members.”
Maybe Gareth Shepherd wasn’t the upstanding citizen he seemed.
“Where did you learn that?”
“Let’s just say I have a special connection with the princess.”
Viktorya shuddered at the thought of what kind of relationship he had with Camille.
“I guess I have to go with the extreme measures then.” she closed her fingers over her palm, tapping just the edge of a tattoo on her wrist, and a sword—shashka specifically—appeared in her grasp.
She stabbed him in the abdomen.
“That shouldn’t hurt you in the long run,” she explained as she stepped over his crumpled body, “As long as you don’t strain yourself too much.” she leaned down closer to him, “Shame about the vest. You look good in silver.”
“You look good in orange,” he strained, “Even if your hair’s the same color.”
“Thanks for the flattery.”
She let her shashka touch the floor as she glided through the closet, until someone yanked it out of her hand.
With bloody hands, Handsome Stranger stood up, pointing her own sword at her.
“You’re going to bleed out faster now,” Viktorya warned.
“I need a name.” he pointed the sword at her chest.
“And I can’t give that to you.”
He came closer with the sword, a steeled look on his face, but he wasn’t going to attack her. She could run right now, use the clothes to block him, but she’d have to keep running, and he’d find out who her client was when she dropped the package off. She needed to incapacitate him before she could leave.
“You must really love making things difficult.”
She summoned the other shashka, swinging it with the intention of disarming him, but he knew how to use a sword, not this specific one, but enough that she couldn’t get the upper hand.
They moved in a dance for a moment until she pulled one of the dresses down on his head, but he pulled it away before she could let go, knocking her off balance.
She was supposed to be the precognizant one here.
“You could run now,” he said.
“Then you’d figure out who my client is.”
“If I don’t catch you first.”
“I think you’re too smart for that.”
“I am.”
He was bleeding out, and still smiling.
“Are we sure we can’t settle this like adults.”
“So once I drop my guard, you’ll knock me out?”
He really did know the court’s tricks. Why would Camille tell him? Not that he wasn’t fun to talk to.
“Maybe I should have offered before I stabbed you.”
“That really didn’t affect the decision.”
She attempted to slash again, and the dance renewed. He seemed to avoid any moves that could make her bleed. Viktorya took advantage of this to close the gap between them, and hit the wound she’d made with the pommel of her sword.
As he crumpled, she clenched her fist, and returned his sword to the rune it came from.
She pointed the shashka she still held at his throat.
“Your job can’t be worth this much.”
“Neither can yours.”
“Who said this is my job?”
Confusion crossed his face. As he tried to parse the sentence out, she slammed the Pommel hard into his temple, knocking him out.
She returned the remaining sword into its rune, and bent down to his unconscious form. She touched her fingers to where she hit, and his eyes opened.
He came up with incredible speed, holding her in a bridal carry.
“What are you?”
“I’m Gareth Shepherd’s head of security.”
He dropped her onto the bed, grabbing onto her arms before she could do anything.
“Name.”
“If I didn’t have the reasons I did, I would have told you awhile ago.”
“What are your reasons?”
“Not ones I can really tell you.”
His look was sympathetic, but she’d lost trust by now.
“Are you sure there isn’t any other way we can settle this?” she tried her best to look attractive enough to ignore one’s job, but the fight probably dinted her chances.
He released one of her arms, and she took the moment pull his lips to hers. Just a moment as she concentrated all her willpower into her next thought.
Stop.
She carefully pushed him off of her. She could already feel the headache coming on, but she really could not keep fighting him.
Frozen like this, he weighed almost nothing, like he’d lost whatever extra weight time provided him. She laid him gently on the bed. She didn’t have very long, but she wanted to at least leave him in better shape than right now. She didn’t sense any injuries where she’d smacked his head before, so he probably faked that response. She moved to the stab wound, and as she took careful breaths, orange glowed from her hands until there was nothing left to heal.
“Until we meet again, Handsome Security Stranger.”
This was the first chapter reformatted for the web serial, and the improvement feels incredible, even if it honestly doesn't look that different from how the site used to look.
It has been an incredible pride and even joy to build this site for you, dear reader.