Divorced by Morning, Crowned by Night

With so much trepidation and sweaty hands, she tried again for the umpteenth time and the lock gave way eventually with a click. Liora Vale froze the moment the sound echoed in the quiet room. Her breath caught in her throat. For a second, which though looked like eternity, she didn’t move at all. She simply listened. Nothing, absolutely nothing. There were no footsteps outside the door and in addition, no guards shouting. Just the clear distant hum of music and laughter drifting up from the lower floors of the mansion. The nobles were still drinking. Good, very good. Liora slowly released the breath she had been holding for close to eternity, and pushed the study door open just enough to slip inside, not sure if it should be left ajar or not after slipping in. Moonlight spilled through the tall windows, washing the room in pale silver. Shelves filled with expensive books lined the walls, and a wide oak desk sat in the center like a throne belonging to an old world class royalty. This was the room, it has to be, and it must be. She closed the door quietly behind her and leaned against it for a moment. “Easy,” she whispered to herself. The job had sounded simple when it was offered. Retrieve the sealed document from Lord Halveren’s private study. That was just it, the assignment, the “must be done” job. No explanations. No questions. And the payment, it had been large enough to make Liora suspicious. But suspicious money still spent well. She crossed the room quickly, her boots silent on the polished floor. Every movement was careful, measured like a well-trained Italian tailer. She had done this too many times to get sloppy now and as a matter of fact, if there is a time to get sloppy at what she knows to do well, it cannot be now of all times. The desk drawer was exactly where the client had described. Perfect description, she told herself, with a smile that could lit a dark room. Locked. Of course. Liora crouched and slipped a thin pick from inside her sleeve. “Let’s try this again,” she murmured. The metal tool slid into the lock. One click. Two. Her fingers were steady now, like the professional she is. Three clicks. The drawer opened. Liora smiled faintly, now. Inside lay a narrow black case sealed with dark red wax. She lifted it slowly. The wax bore an unfamiliar crest, an elegant crown tangled in thorned vines. Liora frowned with a bit of disappointment momentarily flashing her face. Strange symbol. Not a noble house she recognized. But that wasn’t her problem. At least not for now. She turned the case over in her hands, weighing it. Light. Just paper inside. “Strange thing to guard this heavily,” she muttered. Then the hallway outside exploded with shouting. Liora jerked upright. Boots thundered across the corridor. “Search the upper floor!” “Move!” Her stomach dropped. “That’s not good.” The guards were early. Very early. Earlier than she ever speculated and again, that was not good. Her instructions had been clear. The mansion security would be distracted by the banquet for at least another hour. Which meant only one thing. Someone had changed the schedule. Someone who knew she would be here. Someone who speculates her visitation. The door handle rattled violently. “Check the study!” Liora cursed under her breath. “Too slow.” She shoved the case into her satchel and sprinted toward the window. The study door burst open just as she threw the latch aside. “Stop!” Cold night air rushed into the room. Liora didn’t hesitate, not even for a nanosecond. She climbed onto the windowsill and jumped. For a heartbeat she was weightless. Then her boots slammed onto the sloped rooftop below. Tiles shifted under her feet, but she kept moving, rolling into the fall before pushing herself upright. Behind her, the guards poured out onto the balcony. “There!” “The thief!” Liora ran. The rooftops of Virellia stretched endlessly under the moonlight. Narrow alleys separated tall stone buildings, and chimneys jutted up like crooked teeth against the sky. Perfect terrain for escape. She cleared the first rooftop gap easily. Then another. Wind whipped through her hair as she sprinted across the tiles. But within seconds she noticed something strange. Too many voices. Too many boots. The shouting behind her multiplied. Torches flared to life across nearby buildings. Liora glanced back, and nearly stumbled to a fall. Dozens of guards were flooding the rooftops. Not five. Not ten. Dozens or even more. “What the hell…?” Then the alarm bells began ringing, and buzzing. The sharp metallic clang echoed across the capital. Liora stopped short. Alarm bells? For one thief? Something was very wrong. “Cut her off!” “Don’t let her reach the lower quarter!” Her pulse quickened. This was no ordinary chase. Then a voice shouted something that made her blood run cold. “LIORA VALE!” Her name echoed across the rooftops. Liora froze in unbelief. Her name? Not “thief.” Not “intruder.” Her real name. “How?”, she wondered. She didn’t finish the thought. Because the answer was obvious and not oblivious. Someone had betrayed her. Someone had sold her out. “Fantastic,” she muttered bitterly. She ran again. This time faster. A crossbow bolt clattered against a chimney beside her head. She ducked and slid across a roof ridge before dropping behind a tall chimney stack. Boots landed nearby. Three guards. Maybe four. One of them stepped forward with a grin. “End of the line.” Liora leaned casually against the chimney. “You boys always travel in packs?” “Hand over the document,” the guard said. So that’s what this was about. Interesting. “Don’t know what you mean,” she replied. “Search her.” The guard stepped forward. Liora sighed. “You really should’ve brought more men.” Her knife flashed from her sleeve. The blade buried itself in the guard’s shoulder. While he screamed, she kicked the second guard in the knee and elbowed the third in the throat. They collapsed in a heap. Liora bolted across the roof again. But when she reached the next building, she stopped Someone was already there. A man stood calmly in the center of the rooftop. Tall. Broad-shouldered. Dressed in dark armor that gleamed faintly under the moonlight. He didn’t look out of breath. Didn’t look rushed. He simply watched her. Liora slowed cautiously. Something about him felt different from the others. Controlled. Dangerous. “You’re making this unnecessarily difficult,” he said calmly. His voice carried easily across the wind. Liora studied him. “And you’re blocking my exit.” He stepped forward. “Liora Vale.” Her eyes narrowed. “So you’re the one shouting my name all over the city.” “I know who you are.” “I’m flattered.” His gaze moved briefly to her satchel. “You’ve stolen royal property.” Ah. So that was the problem. Liora folded her arms. “I was hired for a job.” “By whom?” “Trade secret.” The man studied her face carefully. Longer than necessary. Something flickered in his expression. Curiosity. That unsettled her more than anger would have. “Hand over the document,” he said. “No.” “You don’t understand what you’ve taken.” “And you don’t understand how payment works.” Behind him, more guards were climbing onto the rooftops. The circle was closing. The man finally spoke again. “My name is Cassian Thorne.” The name hit like thunder. Commander of the royal guard. Liora let out a low whistle. “Well. That explains the welcoming party.” Cassian’s eyes dropped briefly to the satchel again. “You’re holding something dangerous.” “Everything I steal is dangerous.” “Not like this.” “Then perhaps the owner should guard it better.” For a moment neither of them moved. Wind howled across the rooftops. Then Cassian said quietly, “Last chance.” Liora reached slowly into her cloak. Cassian’s hand moved toward his sword. Instead of a weapon She pulled out a small metal sphere. Cassian frowned. “Is that?” She slammed it against the tiles. Smoke exploded across the rooftop. Guards shouted. Cassian stepped back, scanning the thick cloud. By the time it cleared. She was gone, disappeared, evaporated into the air. Across the street, a shadow leapt onto another rooftop before disappearing into the night. Cassian walked slowly to where she had stood. Something small lay on the tiles. A torn corner of parchment. He bent and picked it up. The wax seal was cracked, but the crest remained visible. A crown wrapped in thorned vines. Cassian’s expression went still. That symbol had not been seen in nearly twenty years. The mark of the lost royal bloodline. He looked toward the dark rooftops where Liora had vanished. And whispered quietly, “That can’t be possible.” She is still somewhere here and I must find her. He said to himself.