For Theo, there was something intriguing about watching the calm, sleeping face of the man from whom he was about to rob. It was all the more intriguing that this was a man who had, at one time, hunted Theo tirelessly and made his life miserable. If the man were to awaken, he would likely stab Theo with the jeweled dagger on his bedside table.

  The man softly snored. Theo could not deny that he enjoyed the feeling of power that came from standing over an enemy such as him. It would be too easy to take the dagger himself and put an end to this game of cat and mouse. A small smile played onto Theo’s lips. He watched the Duke’s chest silently rise and fall. He almost felt bad for him… Almost.

  In truth, Theo didn’t want to be here in this grand bedchamber decorated in the brilliant gold and lapis finery of the Duke’s House colors. He found no satisfaction being so near to the man that had so fervently pursued the notion of his head on a pike.

  The Duke snorted, his face contorting momentarily. Theo’s powerful legs flexed in response, ready to carry him noiselessly out of sight.

  But the soft snoring returned and Theo relaxed, as did the Duke’s stony face. None save a seldom few could be trusted with this crucial task of robbing him, which not even Theo knew the reason. It was not uncommon that Theo was given these mysterious tasks. He was often a prime choice for these quests due to the fact that he did not like to concern himself in politics as it was disinteresting to him, and not to mention dangerous. There were things, Theo thought, that were better not to know.

  He crept silently to the other side of the moonlit room while he pondered these things, stopping before a large desk. Made from solid, dark wood, it stood with towering stacks of old books and papers. Theo brushed a pile of quills off to the side — he was sent here to find a letter — one with a serpent wax seal, and if he had to guess, it would be on this desk.

  As he surveyed the stacks of paper, a glint caught his eye: a solid gold paperweight in the shape of an octopus with sapphire gemstones for eyes. Something of this quality would easily fetch a large sum, but he wasn’t sent here to collect trinkets.

  Theo never took more than he was bid to. He was bound by the code of his order not to. For some thieves, it would be too tempting to be in such a fine room when they were asked to take nothing except a piece of paper.

  Resisting the temptation to skim off the top, as it was referred, was indeed the largest error a thief could make as a member of the Thieves Guild. Sneaking in an extra gemstone or two to sell in the black markets outside of the Guild’s control would be so easy. After all, who in the Guild would know if Theo took the paperweight? It was likely that no one would ever find out if he took it.

  Yet for being a thief, Theo prided himself on his ability to uphold honor whilst simultaneously acting dishonorably. He was what he considered to be (which made him chuckle) a good thief. Good in the sense that there was no shortage of bad thieves. Yet, Theo wasn’t really one to be the judge of goodness and badness, because after all, he was responsible for much anger and frustration in his now countless victims—

  “YEAACCH! YEAACCH!”

  The thief was snapped out of his thoughts to the loud coughing of the Duke who had alarmingly shot up in bed, apparently to hack out a lung.

  On pure instinct, Theo had collapsed down into a crouch, finding cover behind the desk. It was just a few strides from where the Duke now sat, fully awake and coughing.

  “Hem.. hem hem hem… Gar—hem—this cough is going to be… hem—the end of me— hem hem hem…” the Duke gasped.

  “What is it dear?” Came a woman’s voice now, muffled by a soft feather pillow. Theo hadn’t had time to adjust himself and now was frozen in an awkward squatting stance, but he dared not move lest he make a sound.

  “This damn cough, Mariah,” the Duke growled, finally able to catch his breath, “I’m losing too much sleep.”

  “Oh, why don’t you get some water?” Mariah asked, sounding more sleepy than concerned.

  Theo listened carefully for any sign of the Duke getting up and his heart leapt when he heard the sound of sheets ruffling, accompanied by the soft thuds of two bare feet on the wood floor. Theo’s legs were now shaking slightly from the effort of the awkward squat. The exit, the door to the bedchamber, was on the complete opposite side of the room, the only way to it was to pass in the open right by the bed.

  The Duke started to stumble across the room, he was getting closer to the desk. Theo glanced up and confirmed that the pitcher of water was right above him — he had chosen the absolute worst place to hide. Acting as silently as possible, Theo allowed his quivering legs to let himself down while the Duke crossed the room, using the rustling sounds from the Duke’s steps to conceal his movements.

  Theo, now lying on his belly, could see the Duke’s hairy bare feet from underneath the desk. His mind raced on how he could create a distraction if the Duke fancied to sit down at the desk for a late night writing session. Theo heard the sound of water pouring from a carafe into a glass and the Duke drinking deeply from it.

  There was a loud, sudden rapping on the door of the bedchamber.

  KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK!

  Theo tensed up.

  “Father!” A muffled voice called from the other side.

  “Ahem… hem… yes, dear? Come in,” the Duke replied after swallowing another huge gulp. The door creaked loudly as it opened and shadows danced across the floor from the orange glow of a candle, accompanied by a young woman’s voice.

  “Father, are you alright? Your loud coughing woke me.”

  “Yes… hem, yes dear… I’m sorry to have woken you — please go back to bed now.”

  Yes, please go away now, Theo thought, grimacing.

  “You’re ill, Father, please let me get you something to soothe your throat.”

  “No, no, I’m fine dear.”

  To Theo’s great relief, the feet of the Duke turned and receded back towards the doorway containing his daughter, but Theo dared not move from his position. Not yet.

  “Please? Some lemon, perhaps?” the Duke’s daughter asked.

  “Dear, please. I’m fine. Just go back to bed.”

  “Why won’t you let me help you?” She sounded upset.

  “Lemon juice is not going to help me at this point,” Theo detected a little spite in the Duke’s voice.

  “It gets worse by the week,” she said, “if only you could get some rest, let James—”

  “Josephine, I’m not ready to step down, and James isn’t ready for this sort of responsibility, now please go to back to bed—”

  Josephine cut him off in turn, “And why not? Were you not but 3 years younger than he when you first came into this position?”

  “That’s not the point, dear,” the Duke said.

  “I don’t see why you just can’t admit that you’re too old for this!”

  The Duke spoke quickly, “There are things you don’t understand that are in motion now,” his voice now raised. “Everything we have here is at stake, and I can’t step aside at this critical moment! Hem!” the Duke coughed once more.

  “Why can’t you tell me?” Josephine sounded as if on the brink of tears, when the other voice came.

  “Josephine, please, listen to your father,” came the stern voice of Mariah whom also sounded fully awake.

  Josephine was crying now, “Why must you treat me like a child?” she demanded. “What is it that it must be so secret that not even your daughter can know, nor James?”

  Mariah was angry now and on her feet, “Because! It is too dangerous for you to know — for if this information leaves this room, it could be the death of us all!” she cried.

  Theo heard the thuds of Mariah’s bare feet stride quickly over to the others.

  “Mariah, please…” the Duke said.

  “Off you go! To bed! Now!” Mariah exclaimed.

  Theo heard the sobbing Josephine whimper, accompanied by the storming of feet and the slam of the door. The room returned to the soft, steady blue glow of the moonlight and there was a long pause of silence. Theo became acutely aware of his heart beating into the wood floor. But then, he could hear small, sharp intakes of breath; the sound of Mariah softly crying.

  “Mariah…”

  “Oh, David, what is going to happen to us? What is going to come of all of this?” she sounded terrified.

  Theo couldn’t help but feel sorry for them. He now felt certain that the letter he was sent to retrieve was somehow related to these fears. As he lay there with his face pressed into the cool wood floor, he racked his brain for what the serpent seal could represent.

  “Everything is secure, dear,” the Duke spoke, calmly. “So long as I can continue my rule.”

  He continued, “Josephine, she wouldn’t understand, even if we did tell her. She knows naught but happiness in her life, of these endless summers by the sea. She wouldn’t be able to even process this information. It’s best to handle this privately, at least for as long as we can,” the Duke then paused and finally said slowly. “I want her to be as happy for as long as she can be.”

  Mariah now spoke, “You are a good father, David. She has not forgotten this.”

  It was another half hour before Theo was sure he was hearing two distinct snores. He felt safe to push himself up off of the floor, from which, his chest now sorely ached.

  He felt an urgency to find the letter now as the hour was getting late, and the sun would soon be rising. Yet, no letter could be found on the desk top fitting the description given to him, but there were several drawers, one of which was locked.

  The Thief was sure beyond any doubt the letter was safely inside it and, with a deft flick of his wrist, a small lock pick slipped from Theo’s sleeve into his hand. He made quick work of the lock and to little surprise, the letter sat right on top of some other papers, he smiled at the sight of the blood-red wax seal. It was a serpent with a forked tongue, coiled around a longsword.

  The seal was broken — the letter had been read — but it was folded such that Theo could not readily read it as it laid. Theo reminded himself that he had been told only to take it. He gazed curiously at the fine, folded paper and wondered what it could possibly say. And when the seal was already broken, no one would know if he had read it…

  But Theo shoved these thoughts away, grabbing the letter and shoving it into an inner pocket of his cloak before he could do anything irresponsible. He started to close the drawer, but paused just before it clicked closed. His eyes had caught on a single word as the papers inside scrolled past, barely registering it in his subconscious: invasion.

  Theo knew he shouldn’t, but the word intrigued him: invasion… of what?

  His eyes flicked side to side as he read through the sliver of the drawer, as if keeping it barely cracked lessened his trespass. It was an unaddressed letter, with a request, no, a plea…

  Please send word of our concerns. There is, with not the shadow of a doubt in my mind, that we have seen more, and to that, the frequency of detection is increasing. Please. We are still concerned about the possibility of invasion. Duke David of Charles Town.

  Another loud snort from the Duke caused Theo to jump and accidentally close the drawer the rest of the way, which clicked as it locked. The letter had been short, but it was clear that the Duke was concerned about some sort of invasion of his sea town. But there was no time for Theo to remain here any longer; if he was to leave under the cover of darkness. He had but an hour. He jiggled the drawer to ensure it was locked, and then eyed the door on the far wall, through which he would escape.

  Theo stepped out and closed the porch door quietly, and was met with a humid, briny air that blew his shoulder-length blond hair across his face. He brushed it out of his eyes and surveyed the sprawling, moonlit sea town below him. His calculating, gray eyes traced the ridges and peaks of the roofs, looking for the path of least resistance. He would have to swing and leap across the gap between the Duke’s home and the next building over, which was not only a story below but also a gap of almost equal distance.

  Theo peered over the edge of the railing. He could hear voices from below: two of the Duke’s guards chatting at the wall of a terrace. Even in the bright moonlight of this night, Theo doubted that they would have an easy time spotting him.

  He climbed up onto and over cold metal railing and smoothly lowered himself so that he was dangling by just his fingertips. With a powerful jolt, Theo swung his body towards the Duke’s home and swung as hard as he could back the other direction and let go.

  Wind whipped by his ears and his stomach lurched as he hurtled down towards the roof. He cleared the gap easily and on impact, he curled and rolled deftly down onto the sloping tiles, coming to a stop just at the edge. A seagull perched at the roof’s end cawed angrily as it fluttered away. The cobblestone streets below were still four stories down, the thief remarked to himself as he glanced over the edge.

  He paused for a moment for any sound of alarm, of any sign that someone had noticed him, but there was only the distant sound of crashing ocean waves on the shore. Theo adjusted his hood and patted the pocket of his black cloak that contained the envelope and with a reassuring crinkle, he disappeared into the night.