Here's a little preview of two illustrations I created for the Outlast zine. Liliya and Coyle are my favorite, so getting to draw them was an absolute joy!✨

The manor had been in a state of controlled chaos since the sun rose that morning.

Servants, wait staff and several others hurried to and fro down the halls, all feelings of a strange presence inhabiting the building set aside. Polished silver trays balancing fine glassware were deftly carried around obstacles alongside bouquets of flowers, candlesticks and enough expensive fabric to make a tailor’s eyes water. Heady smells of food permeated throughout the place as the cooks took complete control over the kitchen.

Baron and Lady Northcrest had poured over the guest list for several days, making absolutely sure the invitations were heading out to the right people as there were going to be a few the Baron was bound to rub elbows with. And possibly squeeze a few extra coins from. 

A string quartet rehearsed the same song for the fifth time before picking it back up for another go around. They’d been pulling this same maneuver for the past two hours, much to Elizabeth’s annoyance. Wanting to just stay well out of the way of everyone involved, Lizzie had opted to remain in her chambers while the manor got itself ready for a host of visitors.

Merchants, a handful of lesser nobles, military officers and city officials were planning to be in attendance. Things were likely not going to conclude until well after midnight. And Elizabeth’s presence was a must. The Thief Taker General was also going to arrive along with a posse of Watchmen as his escort later in the evening. Elizabeth repressed a shudder as she recalled the man’s clammy, large hand enveloping hers several nights back. It was true that he did favor the younger feminine sex, given that Elizabeth had ties– albeit distant – to the Northcrest estate, he was inclined to pursue.

If the courtship ever did take off, Elizabeth knew that horrid man would be frequenting brothels almost every night they’d be together. She didn’t quite fancy that life for herself. Imagining that foul creature crawling over her skin was enough to make her leap up from her vanity where she’d been trying to place a set of semi precious emeralds upon her ears. Her hair had since been pulled up into partial updo, with bobby pins already poking at her scalp. As much as she loathed these events, Lizzie did enjoy getting dressed up. Even if it was for the wrong crowd.

Charlotte remained absent, having sworn she’d return to help Lizzie into tonight’s attire nearly an hour ago. Itching to move and do something with herself, Elizabeth threw off her dressing robe into a fresh chemise before handling the main gown. The fabric rippled like water in her hands and practically glowed as the candlelight caught it. The dark green hue was quite beautiful and could’ve easily paid a family of four at least six months with how much it cost. 

Thankfully, this wasn’t a piece Lizzie had purchased herself. It was a pretty hand-me-down from the Lady Northcrest who assured Lizzie no one would’ve remembered her wearing the old thing. After a few quick alterations completed by Charlotte and their seamstress, Mrs. Pembroke, the evening gown had been spruced up with bits of new lace, beadwork and threading.

Lizzie stepped into its skirts, easing the cool fabric up past her hips and slid her arms through the sleeves. When she finished fussing with the dress and settling it into place, she began to work at the corset. Elizabeth reached behind herself, fingertips just brushing the laces. Frowning, she twisted to the other side and tried again. No luck.

All right. Don’t panic here. You’ve dressed yourself a million times over before…

But those were with a different style of corset. One that was able to be fitted over the dress and tied from the front. Then there were the ones with buttons which took quite a bit of figuring out.

Determined, Elizabeth stood in front of her long mirror with her back facing the thing and twisted and turned to no avail. Charlotte still had yet to return and probably wouldn’t until just before the event began.

Lizzie cursed her lack of flexibility and continued to strain herself before stopping for a break, sitting on the edge of her immaculately made bed. She briefly entertained the idea of asking another servant for assistance but decided against it for now. Knowing her luck, she’d likely pull in a hapless young man who’d balk at her state of dress or lack thereof. 

When there was a soft knocking sound of knuckles against wood, Elizabeth tiredly, exasperated, said, “Come in.” Perhaps it was Charlotte this time who–

Wait, her bedroom door wasn’t opening. Which meant–

Her head whipped around in time to see the balcony door she’d cracked open for a bit of air swing back a bit to allow a tall dark figure past its threshold. Garrett closed it shut behind him, his dual colored gaze already sweeping her room for any perceived threats. They finally rested on the partially dressed woman who had since stood up, a look of mild disbelief crossing her face.

“You look…” His eyes flicked down and back up. Elizabeth arched a brow.

“Expensive?” she supplied, shifting the fabric to keep her shoulders covered.

“I was going to say ridiculous but let’s go with your suggestion.” He tugged down his facemask before striding across the parquet flooring. His walk looked relaxed, confident, but she knew full well it could change at the drop of a hat. “No Charlotte tonight?” he asked, lingering near the foot of her bed.

Elizabeth shrugged. “She’s currently kidnapped by the gala. I only remained out of its clutches by staying high up in my tower.”

“Oh? And how’s that been working out?” Garrett lightly braced a shoulder against one of the wooden poles denoting the canopy held over her mattress. Elizabeth all but bared her teeth at him in an attempt at a smile. It looked more like a grimace.

“Well, I’ve unfortunately encountered an… engineering problem.” She half turned her back to the thief, and gestured at the loose laces dangling there like a limp spider’s web. “I’m beginning to suspect whoever invented these blasted things thoroughly loved testing one’s patience.” Lizzie raised a hand upward as though she wanted to rake her fingers through her hair but checked the motion quickly, dropping it back to her side as she looked to the thief.

“Would you, ah, mind… helping me?” She loathed the embarrassment that flooded her system and knew her face was turning a lovely shade of red. Garrett stood there for a breath as though considering his options. Without another word, he pushed off from her bed and tugged off his fingerless gloves, setting them down on the comforter. The motion seemed nonchalant but Elizabeth reasoned most others wouldn’t have thought ahead like that.

Bare hands would snag the fabric or catch on the silk. It was yet another small bit of kindness he bestowed upon her.

“Let’s move a little more towards the light. Now, turn around,” he instructed.

“Sure the flames won’t burn you away?” Elizabeth teased but did as he asked. Truth be told, having such a notorious blackhand inches behind her caused her back to stiffen a fraction. It was a strange feeling. She trusted Garrett wouldn’t slip her a knife through the ribs or otherwise take advantage of her. Frankly, she couldn’t remember a time when she allowed a man this close.

Garrett’s fingers soon found the laces, jarring her from her thoughts. He lightly scoffed, his breath ghosting the back of her neck. The skin there turned to gooseflesh.

“You’ve managed to tangle these,” he commented.

“That explains why I was having a hard time reaching them.”

“How long did you say you were at this? It takes an amount of…” He paused, searching for the word.

“Determinedness?” Elizabeth suggested.

Garrett scoffed again, carefully detangling the thin pieces of fabric. “I was going to say stubbornness but sure.” Once the task of returning the laces to their original state was complete, Garrett began tugging them back into place.

Outside her door, what felt like a thin veil between Elizabeth and the thief from the rest of the world, servants could be heard thumping down the halls alongside murmured conversations and complaints.

“Hold still,” she heard the thief whisper almost distractedly.

“I am.”

“You’re moving.”

“I’m breathing.”

“That still counts as moving.”

“I must be able to breathe a little if I am to survive tonight.”

That earned her another huff of laughter.

They fell back into their usual routine of chatter as though an entire year had passed between them. Garrett’s fingers worked on the corset, loosening here and tightening a bit here while she tested the fitting.

“You’ve done this before,” Elizabeth observed. Surely, he’d lain with other women prior to meeting her. Which was all well and good when one wasn’t falling for the infamous Master Thief.

“For armor,” came his reply. “The principles are the same though I gather the soldiers complain less.” His nimble fingers quickly pulled the laces through a bow before getting tucked away out of sight. “There.”

The Aristo placed her hands just above her navel and inhaled experimentally. Gods, he was even better at this than Charlotte was.

“Comfortable?” he asked, pulling his gloves back on as Elizabeth turned to face him.

“Remarkably so. Thank you, Master Thief.”

Garrett merely dipped his head. “My pleasure.”

Elizabeth studied him for a moment. His nightly visits had become more frequent, even when she ventured out into the city proper. She hadn’t mentioned it. Hadn’t dared to for fear of disrupting any of this. Some evenings she’d hear that quiet knock against the balcony glass only minutes after wondering if he’d come. Other nights he wouldn’t appear at all. There was hardly a pattern to his movements and yet he kept creeping in past the manor’s defenses. Just like that first night when she came upon him inside the library.

She hoped, foolishly so, that this wasn’t entirely by chance.

“I should go.” The thief’s voice drew her back to the present.

“Client job?” Elizabeth smoothed down the front of her dress.

“Something like that.” The facemask was pushed back into place as he neared the balcony. Just as he was about to leave, the thief took one more look at her. This one lingered far longer than the first when he arrived. Elizabeth felt an overwhelming shyness hit her as his gaze met hers. “Have a good night, Lizzie. Try not to stab anyone.” With that, he was up and over the balcony and back into the darkness.

–

Hours later, the gala finally concluded. Thank the Builder.

Elizabeth collapsed face first across her velvet coverlet with all the grace of a beached whale. Her tired moans muffled by the coverlet further enhanced the impression. One of her shoes had been kicked off by her wardrobe. The other still clung stubbornly to the balls of her feet, hanging on through sheer spite.

Her poor hair lost its battle with the pins several dances ago, loose strands sticking out in places making her look crazed. She mercifully escaped dancing with Thaddeus for tonight. Turning her head to the side, Elizabeth blearily made out the time. It was two hours past midnight. It was no small wonder she was so tired.

There was a knock on the wood, announcing someone’s presence, and Elizabeth bit back another groan.

“Go away. Please,” she pleaded. “I am much too tired and will just sleep in my attire tonight, thank you.”

“Hm. I take it tonight was a success?”

“Wha–?” Startled, Elizabeth pushed herself into an upright position then regretted the quick motion. Her back twinged something awful, making her plop right back down onto the coverlet. Garrett skillfully turned his bout of laughter into a cough. Elizabeth, now recovering from his sudden appearance, mumbled out a reply into the mattress.

“What was that?”

“I said…” She heaved herself onto her back, letting her dress and legs dangle off the side of her bed. “If one more elderly lord asks if I paint landscapes or talk about his spoon collection, I am going to throw myself wholeheartedly into the ornamental fountain out back.”

“You wouldn’t.”

“I was considering it.”

“You’d have ruined your dress.”

“That’s a sacrifice I’d be willing to make.” She looked over to where the thief was standing, his shadowed gaze looking rather bemused. “Garrett, I know absolutely too much about the different types of spoons one man can collect over a period of two and a half decades.”

The casual usage of his name, said in such a pitying tone, nearly caused a genuine smile to appear on his face. His attention then dropped to her abandoned shoe, its twin steadily hanging on and her state of unpleasantness.

“Need rescuing?” Garrett offered. Elizabeth’s eyes rolled about, taking in her rather unladylike demeanor, before nodding once. Her ghostly companion stretched out both hands and effortlessly pulled her upright, drawing a startled, “Oh!” from the woman. One of her hands released his only to brace itself against his chest in an effort to regain her balance. She still wobbled a bit.

“I think my legs have forgotten how walking goes again,” she commented, letting out a weak laugh. Garrett only let her go as soon as he was certain she wasn’t about to topple over with the next breeze.

“I’m sure they’ll remember soon.” His tone was light. Teasing.

“Let’s hope they do. Otherwise, it’s going to be a damnable long night,” she groused.

–

Later that same night, Garett descended back into the bowels of the Crippled Burrick. Basso’s “office”, if you could call such a thing, occupied one portion in the middle. Shelves of ledgers, crates of questionable merchandise and three bottles of untouched liquor were scattered about.

The fence barely looked up when he entered, quill quickly scratching away at a page. Basso placed it back in the inkpot after a moment before standing to address his partner. A small velvet pouch was dropped onto a page with, thankfully, dried ink. 

“The necklace, as promised,” came the thief who crossed his arms over his chest. Basso hefted the pouch in one hand, weighing it, and grinned.

“Good. Client’ll be pleased,” he replied before stowing it away in one of his many coat pockets. He proceeded to toss a few bread crumbs his carrier pigeon’s, Jenivere, way before turning back to Garrett. “You know…”

The thief immediately recognized that tone and quickly cut off Basso with a resounding, “No.”

Basso continued on unperturbed. “I’ve noticed something.” Garrett quietly glowered at him. The fence held up his inkstained hands in a peacemaking gesture. “You’ve started accepting an awful lot of jobs over in the Northern Quarter.”

“They pay well,” the thief answered evenly with a short shrug.

“That they do. And yet…” Basso tapped a fat index finger against his chin while side-eying his friend. “And yet, you’ve been turning away other well paying jobs south of the river.” He was thoroughly enjoying this little game, Garrett could tell. It was hard to keep from rolling his eyes.

“Odd thing, ain’t it.”

“Not really,” Garrett countered.

“No?”

“No.”

Basso folded his arms, cocking his head to the side. “Y’know what’s over in the North Quarter, Garrett?” He was met with silence. Basso grinned. “Northcrest Manor,” he said, answering his own question. “You’ve practically worn a path over to those rooftops. Got your own route and everything.”

The thief let out a long suffering sigh. “The rooftops are useful. You know this.”

“I’m certain they’re very useful.”

“You’ve got an answer for everything, don’t you? You finished?”

The other man paused before shaking his head. “Not remotely, no.” His expression partially sobered up. “I’ve known you a long time, Garrett. I’ve watched you turn away potential, high paying heists from a number of folks over the years. Not to mention escaping a boatload of impossible situations. How you’re alive is beyond me.” 

“Basso. The point?” If Garrett didn’t head him off now, Basso would carry on with whatever winded lecture he had set up. It was high time for the Master Thief to turn in.

“The point being that your habit’s changed.”

Garrett’s eyes narrowed a fraction as the fence continued. “You leave quicker. Used to linger.” Basso gestured about the cellar then. 

“We’d argue.”

“You’d complain about my prices,” the thief retorted.

“I’d complain about your prices,” Basso agreed then pointed a finger at him. “You’d steal my biscuits.”

“I still steal your biscuits. You might want to check your supplier on the quality.”

“Aye, yeah, you do. Lately, though?” He nodded his head toward the stairs. “You’re always looking at the door.”

“I have work.”

“Eh.” Basso shrugged. “If you ask me, you’ve started to act like someone might be waiting up for you.”

Garrett went to answer but stopped. The observation landed harder than he expected. He couldn’t rightly tell his friend he was wrong because… he wasn’t. He’d often found himself, especially since he returned, if the light in her room had already been extinguished. If the balcony door was unlatched. He hadn’t intended for her to become part of his routine but here he was.

The fence gave him a toothy smile. “You know I’m right.”

“I’m leaving.”

“I figured.” Basso laughed again before yawning widely. “And Garrett?”

The thief stopped right at the cellar’s threshold, his head turned a fraction in Basso’s direction.

“It’s good to see you smiling a bit more often now.”

“And?” How was that something to celebrate?

“It suits you.”

“Don’t get used to it.”

“Please. I’d miss your brooding too much.”

“Good night, Basso.” Garrett’s tone had a level of finality to it that further proved the fence’s point.

“Night, Garrett. And give my regards to Miss Elizabeth.”

—-

Lady Moreau’s masques were said to be incredibly lavish, over the top and filled to the brim with dishes from all over the continent. At least, so the rumors went. By the time Elizabeth had arrived in the city months back, the Lady’s ball had already passed. Seeing how practically every prominent figure was supposed to be in attendance, it was only fitting that Baron Northcrest was invited alongside his several times removed cousin. Most weren’t bound to recognize the woman with him given the elaborate masks.

The Baron had opted for a full face wolffish countenance while Elizabeth had selected one a bit more fae in appearance. The half mask revealed just enough to give prospective suitors a taste as they entered the illustrious manor. Despite wearing a polite smile and friendly demeanor, Elizabeth nearly balked at the excessive opulence of the place as they strode through the entryway.

Tables were overladen with a mixture of plates piled high with food that was bound to go to waste. Punch bowls were filled practically to the brim with colorful liquor. Servants had to keep dashing out from hidden sections in the walls for necessary refills. To think, these meals could’ve been used to feed people. Desperate and hungry people.

Instead, it’d all be tossed out before the night was over. She was suddenly yanked from her mental critiques by Northcrest who had been attempting to get her attention for the past few seconds.

“Elizabeth! Are you even listening to me?” the man all but hissed. Northcrest then let out an exasperated sigh now that he had finally gotten his cousin’s attention. “Behave, girl. You do anything to upset the balance of this place and I’ll have your damned hide. Now, leave me. I have other matters to attend to.”

At that, Elizabeth was dismissed like an annoying schoolchild. She pursed her lips, glaring holes into the older man’s back as he left her behind to rub elbows with the other rich folk. How she detested these things. It gave one the excuse to dress up and, with it being a masque, be a whole other person but the whole atmosphere left her feeling more than a little nauseated. Closing her eyes and sending up a silent prayer, Elizabeth tugged her floor length dress into place and lightly touched her golden filigreed mask to make sure it wasn’t about to fall off.

Mingle. Each rich food. I can do that. It’ll just be for a few hours and then you’ll be a carriage ride away from returning home where it’s quiet. Taking in a deep breath and letting it out slowly through her mouth, Elizabeth plucked a flute of champagne off a passing servant’s tray and took a sip of the bubbly drink in an effort to calm her nerves.

—

The soft noise of chatter washed over him like a wave as Garrett passed through the front doors, handing off his stolen invitation to the captain manning the checkpoint there. Not his typical M.O. but the thief felt like making an exception tonight.

Security checked the name scrawled on the paper invite against the black and white photograph printed in their large logbook.

The thief could feel himself starting to sweat as the man scrutinized the photo against the person standing before him just a little too long before allowing Garrett admittance. The real Lord Sinclair was sound asleep in the back of a warehouse. The serum Garrett had darted him with would wear off come dawn. In the meantime, he slipped in amongst the nobles like a fox among hens.

Funnily enough, Sinclair’s half mask of choice happened to be a sly eyed, pointy eared fox. The irony of it wasn’t lost on him.

Thankfully, he and Sinclair were of similar build allowing him to don the finely tailored, but featureless, dark colored suit. He felt almost naked without his usual leathers and crossbow but he had managed to stow a handful of knives, lock picks and a few other hidden surprises. Sinclair had been chosen as Garrett’s target given the fact the man was a lesser noble. He had enough money and influence to attend some of these more decadent events but was low enough on the totem pole to not be an active presence at them. If a thief just so happened to take his place, no one would be the wiser.

Word had it that Northcrest had made an appearance. He’d yet to spy the man and didn’t think Elizabeth would be in attendance. Last they’d spoken of such events, she expressed intense disgust over them. Unfortunately, given her high status, she was almost always forced to go or so she had to back in her own city. Given half the chance, she’d rather be somewhere quiet and well out of the searching eye of the public. Garrett couldn’t fault her there.

A manservant in a smartly dressed three piece suit and fish themed half mask stood before him, a plate of hors d’oeuvres presented to the thief. It looked like a caviar spread across thin wheat crackers. Garrett politely declined and pressed on quickly through the crowds before the man could speak another word. He wasn’t here to mingle long. Lady Moreau’s manor was said to be well guarded, only second or third to Northcrest’s. His client, the Lady’s rival, one Lord Daniel Bartrey, wanted Garrett to retrieve a ledger locked away in Moreau’s study.

It was a specific ledger sealed with red wax, tucked away in a safe, and had briefly mentioned it contained some rather scandalous material. Garrett had headed the man off before Bartrey could launch into whatever lewd or defamatory theories he had in mind. Otherwise, he’d probably still be there listening to his lordship drone on. If Garrett could retrieve those documents and return them to Bartrey before dawn, the lord would make good on the gold price they’d settled on.

Whatever else happened after tonight was none of Garrett’s business. If it ended with Lady Moreau’s downfall, he wouldn’t bat an eye. What was another disgraced aristo here? They all played this blasted game of backstabbings and betrayals.

If he helped further the process along, so be it.

The Lord had provided him with a map to pour over in the days leading up to the gala. A mental check of it told Garrett Moreau’s study was on the third floor and likely heavily guarded. There was said to be a servant’s entrance leading to it. If he could locate the right door then perhaps that’d be his ticket in. Since the night of Northcrest’s botched ritual, Garrett had begun to grow used to his new abilities. He’d been able to pick locks much faster and his sensitivity to sounds had proven to be most useful with the City Watch on patrol. Not to mention these newfound abilities started to highlight items of interest like a coin purse he would’ve otherwise overlooked or a tripwire mine placed just out of sight of regular blackhands.

Tonight, he’d be relying on those heightened senses on top of the ones he’d honed over years of hard work and close calls.

—

Elizabeth stifled a yawn for the umpteenth time as Lord Bailey continued to speak about his ever growing vineyard out in the country. Her stomach grumbled, demanding sustenance, and her bladder begged for evacuation. The other two women dressed up like peacocks, with matching masks to boot, seemed to hang on his every word. Bailey prattled on, something about the fermenting process, before Elizabeth interjected as kindly as she could.

“Apologies, milord, I hate to interrupt your lovely tale but I must excuse myself. I must make use of the powder room,” she said with what she hoped wasn’t a strained smile on her face.

“All the more for us then,” one of the peacocks tittered in a sweet voice, her twin giggling girlishly. Flashing the trio another strained but polite sweet smile of her own, Elizabeth all but dashed away. A quiet consultation with a nearby servant and she soon located the lavatory. Five minutes later, she felt a little less stressed and antsy. Food of relative substance still needed to be acquired, something of which her stomach reminded her of once more with feeling.

A glance to her left revealed a table sagging heavily under the weight of the dishes. Elizabeth nabbed a plate and piled it high with a mixture of delicate finger foods like tea sandwiches and crisp veggies to whet her appetite and prevent a headache from plaguing her. It took all her effort to simply not stuff her face. The food practically melted on her tongue! Or she was just overly hungry. Either way, it tasted great. Once her dish was cleared, Elizabeth moved to a roast pig with all the trimmings and a few delicious sides.

It was when she was finishing her second helping that she began to feel eyes on her. Oh gods, had she broken some unspoken gala rule? Sure, it had been some time since she’d been out in a lavish party such as this but, if the drunkard in the next room had yet to be kicked out, Elizabeth didn’t see any reason why she should be. Placing her silverware and dish down alongside the other used cutlery, Elizabeth began to scan the nearby crowd, gaze flicking from one face to the next.

The masks certainly weren’t helping her case here. Granted, that added to the mystique of it all but it hindered her search of this peeping Tom.

The back of her neck prickled just then causing her to turn around and face a sharply dressed man in a dark, tailored suit that clung to him in all the right places. The fox mask prevented her from getting a good look at him but they couldn’t hide his eyes. Namely, one iris that glowed a familiar ghostly blue. Realizing she was now staring, a much more genuine smile pulled at her lips.

“My lord. I wasn’t expecting you to grace us with your presence at such a grand event,” she said by way of greeting. Sarcasm tinged her tone as she lifted a gloved hand. “You’re not usually one for crowds

An easy smile crossed Garrett’s face as he gently took her palm in his and pressed his lips to the fabric. A thrill shivered its way across Elizabeth’s spine and she didn’t miss the way the thief looked at her, drinking in her appearance. She was beyond grateful to have taken Charlotte’s suggestion on the blue ball gown with the lower neckline over the green one she had originally wanted to wear.

“Well, my lady, I could very well ask you the same thing,” he replied in a playful voice, releasing her hand. He knew he’d been caught but hardly minded it. If it would be anyone, Garrett seemed to be pleased it had been her. “You don’t seem quite… at home in all this.” He gestured vaguely about them.

Elizabeth brows furrowed together and her smile slipped slightly. “Do I look that uncomfortable?” Her tone remained pleasant enough but there was a hardened edge to it. A worry that wasn’t there before. Had she been that obvious?

The thief’s lingering gaze lasted long enough to almost make her squirm before Garrett answered, “It’s not your discomfort that’s obvious. It’s your disdain. And you’re quite good at hiding it. Unless one knows what to look for.

Anxiety eased its tight fist around her heart as she let out a short bark of polite laughter. “Is that so, milord? Perhaps you’re just looking for something to dislike.”

“Oh, I’m always looking for something,” Garrett replied. Oh, that grin of his led Elizabeth to think dangerous thoughts. She was grateful for the loud music and incessant chatter for she was worried everyone would hear how hard her heart pounded against her breastbone. “But I’m not so easily fooled like others here. I know when a person doesn’t care for their current surroundings.”

Elizabeth arched an eyebrow and she lifted an index finger to rest on her chin then cupped her elbow with her other hand. “And, what exactly, makes you so sure I’m not where I want to be?”

The Master Thief didn’t answer right away, opting instead to pluck a rather fat grape off the vine and rolled it between his fingers. “Because,” he finally said, his voice dropping to a low, almost conspiratorial whisper, “I can tell when someone is playing at their role. You’re good at it, I’ll certainly give you that. But you don’t enjoy it like the others here.” He then popped the grape into his mouth, its skin breaking with a loud crunch!

Her gaze had since dropped to his mouth and Garrett smirked, noticing where her attention went. Oh, how she had missed bantering words with quick witted individuals! The sense of intrigue, how one needed to stay at least three steps ahead of their opponent. It all felt like verbal chess! And it sent her heart thrumming with excitement. Garrett seemed to be unaffected by their exchange of words save for a glint in his eyes that hadn’t been there before.

“Now, if I may ask, my lady,” the thief continued. “Do you plan on informing Miss Moreau of my intentions here tonight?”

A slow smile crossed Elizabeth’s face just then as an idea took form in her mind. “Not exactly,” she answered with a playful grin. “I’m simply going to ensure you succeed in your quest - on one condition.” She watched as the thief cocked his head to the side, an eyebrow raised behind his mask.

“And what might that be?”

Her smile grew ever more confident as she strode forward until they were all but touching and stared up at Garrett. With that grin of hers, Elizabeth looked like the cat who caught the canary. “I won’t raise the alarm and you let me in on the fun. If this goes well, we can enjoy the spoils. Later.”

The thief let out a rumble of laughter, the sound low and amused. “I do like a woman who knows what she wants.” He crossed his arms over his broad chest, the stance exuding casual authority. “A deal, then? You distract this crowd here at my signal. If you’re successful, after the masque concludes, I’ll make you’re… well compensated for your involvement.”

A lance of heat shot downward into her lower belly at the double entendre. Whether it was the champagne she’d drunk earlier or some new surge of confidence, Elizabeth didn’t know. All she knew now was that she was growing bolder with every passing second she lingered in this man’s company. “Oh, I do enjoy a challenge, milord, but you’ll have to offer me something more than just standard compensation.”

Suddenly, the thief’s face nearly rested against her left cheek as he leaned down to whisper, “If you’d be willing to take the risk, I can promise you a far more… enticing night after this ends.”

She didn’t flinch, grateful she had laced her fingers together so that no one, least of Garrett, could detect that tremor of anticipation. Elizabeth met the blackhand’s gaze with a haughty look of her own. “I’m always willing to take risks, ser.”

A bubble of chittering laughter broke through the steamy turn in their conversation but Garrett didn’t allow her to break away just yet. Instead, he held her gaze, the tension growing ever thicker between them when he said, “I’ll hold you to that, my lady.” His voice quickly shifted from that dark, dangerous and flirtatious tone to something much more professional. “Now, don’t go anywhere far.”

The sudden switch brought Elizabeth back to reality and she nodded once, her mind somewhat foggy and still entranced with the potential end to her evening. “On your mark, yes?” she asked.

“I’ll signal you once I locate one of the hidden entrances.”

“Noted.”

—-

As the pair parted ways, Garrett had shifted in his walk just a bit. Their exchange of words had left him feeling rather… frustrated by the end of it. Elizabeth’s sharp wit and quick tongue followed by those teasing little smiles of hers were incredibly tempting. Oh, he was well aware that this was a dangerous game they were both playing but neither were ready to back down.

He gave himself a hard mental shake, ridding himself of thoughts of her mouth, those red lips and the next sequence of images that very nearly followed in their wake and returned his focus back to the matter at hand.

Servants staircase.

He casually moved through the crowds, the smell of booze and smoke turning into a heady mixture that hovered above their heads. Hopefully those horrid scents hadn’t made their way to the upper levels. Over the next few minutes, Garrett carefully watched the lower castes darting in and out at regular intervals all the while very much aware of eyes on him. Dark, warm brown eyes that shimmered in the light.

Focus, you idiot! All the same… A quick glance over his shoulder revealed his temporary partner in crime tailing him at a distance. That dress of hers hugged every curve her body had to offer. The mask hid away just enough to leave those peering at her wanting more. And those thin strings of pearls that wove their way about her neck plunged down to rest between her expertly clothed breasts.

Elizabeth met his gaze through the throngs of people and a secret, playful smile pulled at her lips. The thief’s heart threatened to gallop against his ribs. He was very much enjoying this newfound confidence of hers.

Garrett then noticed two servants disappear near a large tapestry blanketing a far wall. It detailed an intense hunt from over two centuries prior. Men dressed in regalia rode tall on the backs of handsome horses, hounds baying below as they tore off after a lone brilliantly orange fox. Hoping it somehow didn’t bespell an ill omen of his fate, Garrett’s eyes narrowed a fraction as he drew in for a better look. His cursed eye had detected a fault in the boards there. Sure enough, here was the entrance he’d been searching for.

The thief turned around to briefly scan the crowds, searching for that hidden sea nymph of his before spying her chatting with an older gentleman some feet away. Her eyes met his once more and Garrett gave her a discreet, but firm, nod. It was time.

Elizabeth’s grin broadened and she laughed at something the elder had said. She then went to gesticulate widely only to backhand a silver platter with delicious skewered meats and dark red wine flutes off a poor servant’s palm.

The clanging metal on tile was sudden and very loud - the wine spread out like blood across the marble floors, glass shards bouncing about the place. The meat skewers were sent skidding every which way; some had already been crushed underfoot during the outburst. Several guests had let out surprised gasps, others laughing nervously as Elizabeth apologized profusely, chiding her clumsiness as she bent down to help retrieve the soiled bits before being shooed away.

“That’s my girl,” he murmured.

Taking advantage of the momentary distraction, Garrett dipped behind the thick tapestry, located the door knob and let himself inside. The thick stone walls served as a barrier between himself and the event outside had already muffled the noise and incessant, asinine conversation. It was a balm on Garrett’s nerves as he made his way through the tight passageway, keeping an ear out for passing staff.

The first corridor had led him toward the manor’s large kitchen. His sudden arrival drew some attention from the passing staff but none questioned him given the cut of his outfit and intimidating demeanor. If a noble decided to stride through the servants quarters then they were allowed to do so. A quick glance at another entryway revealed aging labels detailing the different levels of the house and where each corridor or staircase led to. One arrow pointed to a rickety looking staircase, saying it led directly to the study. Mindful of his steps, Garrett immediately set himself upon it, moving as silently as he was able to.

Seconds later, the staircase plateaued at the back end of a massive bookshelf. There were just enough cracks to let in soft candlelight which soon showed the study to be void of anything save for dust, luxurious furniture and a broad mahogany desk which occupied the far side of the study. Perfect. The thief carefully ran his hands along the bookshelf, eyes narrowed in search of the tome that would trigger the entrance. The worn pads of his fingers stumbled across a bump and Garrett tugged at it before pushing it back into the place.

A loud ca-chunk! sounded off as metal ground upon metal, pulling the secret bookshelf passageway open. Garrett slipped inside, his footsteps muted by the plush dark brown carpet. The door to the study stood directly across from him and a short peek through the keyhole revealed at least three guards standing watch outside. No matter. He’d be in and out of here before anyone knew he was missing.

Walking quietly toward the desk, Garrett pulled back the high wingback chair and looked over the papers strewn about the surface. Several were letters written in a scrawling manner talking about different contracts, incoming shipments and potential estimates for manor renovations. Nothing of major importance. A perusal of its drawers revealed a small coin purse, which the thief expertly pocketed, alongside a pen inlaid with gold. Something else he pocketed as well.

The other drawers contained various checkbooks, a dusty looking framed photograph of the late Lord Moreau and other miscellaneous knick knacks. Nothing here alluded to the chest Lord Bartrey had mentioned. Had the man provided him with back intel? Was this all an elaborate ploy to capture the infamous Master Thief and claim the reward money for himself? No, Bartrey didn’t seem like the type nor one with the smarts to hatch such a scheme. The man only had eyes for the downfall of a fellow rival.

“If I were a hidden safe, where would I be?” Garrett muttered to himself as he scanned the study. There were several displays containing beautiful crafted knives and an elegant sword with a turquoise hilt. Three others held several ornate and extremely lavish rings, diamond bracelets and a ruby necklace. The gemstone was nearly as big as his thumb and surely would fetch a pretty penny on the black market. After relieving the displays of their contents, Garrett turned his attention back to the far side wall.

Like its fellow, it too held a broad bookcase spanning its length. In the middle of the shelves stood a white marble bust of the one and only Lady Moreau. The thief kept himself from rolling his eyes at such a thing. The bust bore a striking resemblance to the woman, bordering on the uncanny.

“Hm.”

Acting on a whim, Garrett approached the thing. Picking it up proved fruitless; it was much too heavy. So, he peered about Lady Moreau’s likeness, looking this way and that. It was only after he glided his hands across the thing’s neck that he felt a crack just below the pearls. One corner of his mouth twitched upward as he gently bent the bust backward on its hinge to reveal a copper button underneath.

“There you are.” Pressing down on the cold copper caused the bust to swing back into place as its shelf was slowly drawn back into the recesses of the wall. A new display rolled right into place with a shiny dark green safe balanced atop it. A thick lock had been expertly welded into place. Casting a look back toward the study door, Garrett dug out his lock pick set and got to work.

He’d barely started setting the pins when semi-muffled voices reached his ear. The sound of heels clacking against the floorboards outside drew steadily closer.

“Of all the damned times, now Sir Broswick wants the papers!” It was a woman’s voice sounding rather perturbed. And headed right this way. Mentally cursing his luck, Garrett quickly located the secondary button that would replace the safe with Lady Moreau’s bust. Hoping it would all slot back into place in time, the thief darted across the room back toward the secret bookshelf, grabbing at the tome that would soon hide this corridor. Garrett hunkered down behind the rolling unit while the woman muttered curse after curse outside.

“He’s likely only doing this to vex me, like always. Damned fool. Percival, Derek, step aside.” Just as the bust and shelf returned to their usual spots did the door to the study open to reveal an elegantly dressed woman with her blonde hair pulled back in a high updo and a full faced painted theater mask clutched tightly in one hand. Her blush pink gown swished softly as she stormed over to her desk, pushing aside various papers.

“Come on, damn it. I know it's here somewhere. Blast it all to hell. If I don’t locate the damned thing, Broswick will never let me hear the end of it!” As Garrett peeked through the tops of the books, he could practically see the seething rage and frustration wafting off the noble. She then paused in her ministrations, like something had caught her eye. Something seemed out of place which caused a bit of apprehension to grip hold of the thief.

“Percival, has anyone been in my study since the party began?” Lady Moreau called out. One of the guards, a thick meathead of a man sporting the usual a city Watch uniform, poked his head through the open entryway.

“No, mum. Ain’t no one been up here save fer the servants and even they ‘aven’t gone in ‘ere.”

Lady Moreau didn’t seem pleased with his answer as she closed her desk drawers and made her way over to the bust. After making sure the guard had returned to his post, Moreau flipped back the bust and activated the second display which pulled up moments later. Slotting her key into its lock, Lady Moreau swung the safe door open and examined its contents. Garrett hadn’t realized he’d been holding his breath until he let out a long, slow sigh, grateful he hadn’t pulled the ledger.

“Here it is. Must’ve misplaced the damned thing.” Collecting what she needed, Lady Moreau returned everything back to its rightful place though she did stop in the middle of her room to scrutinize it all. Something was setting off her mental radar but she couldn’t quite put her finger on it. Her gaze flicked to the hidden passageway Garrett was hiding in and walked over to it. The thief ducked further backward into the corridor, cloaking himself in shadow. Just the lady’s fingertip hovered atop the trigger tome, the sound of footsteps approached and a servant girl stood at the doorway.

“Milady? Lady Moreau, they’re about to start cutting the cake,” she piped up in a high voice.

Lady Moreau’s lips pursed together before she finally turned back around, leaving the bookshelf behind her. “Thank you, Ingrid. I’ll be right down,” came her reply and, moments later, the study door had been shut and locked behind her. Knowing he likely wouldn’t have much time, Garrett waited just a few beats longer before activating the bookshelf and slipping back into the study. Keeping a sharp ear out for any other intrusions, he flipped the bust over, depressed the button and waited for the safe to appear.

He worked the lock as quickly as he dared, wincing as he twisted a pick at the wrong interval. Impatience wouldn’t serve him well here if he wanted to get out successfully. Drawing in a full breath and letting it out slowly, Garrett finagled the lock until it clicked. A triumphant smile crossed his face as he swung the door open and rummaged about its insides. The top shelf contained two silver ingots alongside a man’s watch. Below it were a few banknotes and the ledger he’d been after.

After inspecting the seal, Garrett tucked it into his jacket pocket and replaced the safe’s door. He would’ve lifted the remaining currency but didn’t want to press his luck. He could always return to grace Lady Moreau’s study with his presence once more now that he knew the layout. Returning the bust back to its rightful place, the thief dashed across the carpet and back down the hidden corridor, the bookshelf rolling shut behind him.

Now, all that was left to do was to leave this garish place behind him.

—-

Once the party drew to a close, Elizabeth was more than grateful to flop gracelessly into the carriage cushions as she and Baron Northcrest were guided back towards the manor. Her feet ached something awful, the pins were digging rather painfully into her scalp and her corset desperately needed to be loosened. The Baron looked to be just as tired. It seemed his age was slowly catching up to him. They were both silent as the horses clip-clopped their way over the city’s cobblestone streets.

Elizabeth quite preferred it this way. Elias wasn’t grilling her about one thing or another and it seemed to have slipped his notice that she was the one who caused that great disaster back in the ballroom. She breathed a quiet sigh of relief when Garrett had joined her side some time later, stolen item in hand. He had then whispered about meeting her back at the manor for their little rendezvous before stealing away.

As much as such an idea thrilled her, and it did, Elizabeth didn’t feel too much in the mood now. Her body ached and her social battery was practically drained. The muscles in her face twitched from smiling too much and her throat was scratchy from carrying on multiple conversations over the past few hours. Garrett’s presence did act as a sort balm to her nerves and eased a little of the pain. Leaning her head back against the carriage’s interior, she closed her eyes, forgetting to remove her mask.

She was soon jolted awake as the carriage came to a screeching halt just outside the manor’s doors. The stones were slick with rainwater and Elizabeth nearly lost her footing, the driver clutching her arm to keep her from cracking her head. Giving the man a grateful smile, Elizabeth ducked inside, tearing off her mask as she did so. Charlotte met her down one hallway, notifying her lady of the drawn bath that awaited in her bedchamber, and offered her assistance for the undressing but Elizabeth tiredly shook her head.

She was exhausted and, as much as she cared for Lottie, she didn’t feel like interacting with anyone else. Save for one other person, her brain reminded her. Her cheeks heated as she painstakingly wove her way upstairs, yanking off her heels in the process. Letting out a sigh of relief upon reaching her room, Elizabeth dropped her heels by the door, locking it behind her, before approaching her bed and falling face first into the cushions with a groan.

“Long night, I take it?” came a familiar male voice.

Elizabeth turned her head to the side and spied Garrett standing by her balcony door. He’d exchanged his fancy tailored suit for his usual cloak and leathers.

“Mm. You could say that,” she replied, stiffly maneuvering herself up into a sitting position. She pulled out each hairpin one by one and set them atop her nightstand. “Apologies, Garrett, but I don’t think I have the energy for a midnight escapade. As much as I’d like to, I’m just too bloody tired.”

The thief gave her a sympathetic look as he walked over to her as she continued to remove her jewelry and let her hair down. He sat down beside her and ran a hand through her hair, his nails raking gently against her scalp. Elizabeth let out a sigh of pleasure and leaned into his touch. It felt so good after being strung up for so long. She heard a huff of laughter escape from him as he continued to massage her scalp.

“If you keep doing that, I’ll fall asleep right here,” Elizabeth said dreamily.

“I’ve nowhere else to be tonight. Client’s good and satisfied and Lady Moreau will likely be cast out of high society before the month’s over.”

Before she knew it, Elizabeth’s head rested on the thief’s shoulder with her eyes closed.

“You don’t mind staying?” she asked after some time had passed. “I know the night’s panning out differently than you’d hoped-“

“Lizzie, I’ll take any time I can to spend with you,” Garrett replied in a soft voice before pressing his lips to her forehead, his stubble lightly scratching her skin. “Charlotte already suspected I was staying while she was readying your bath. We’d spoken before you and Northcrest returned home.”

“How kind of her.” Elizabeth was going to make sure that woman got a raise before the new day’s end. With a reluctant groan, she peeled herself away from Garrett and pushed herself up off her bed, grimacing a little. “All right… I’d best hop in the bath before the water gets too cold. Give me a few minutes and then I’ll be right out.”

“Need help with the corset?” Garrett offered. Elizabeth looked back at him and chewed her bottom lip as if contemplating her choices. While it’d be a struggle, she could still undo the laces but having an extra hand wouldn’t hurt. She walked back over to the man and turned around, leaving her back to him. Garrett deftly undid the bow Charlotte had tied earlier that night and quickly loosened the laces with much more ease than she’d expected. Ah, finally. She could draw in a full breath at long last!

After relishing her newfound range of movement, Elizabeth became very much aware of the thief’s warm hands still resting on her hips. Turning around to face Garrett, she watched him tip his head back to look up at her causing his hood to fall away. Moonlight pierced through the veil of clouds outside, bathing the side of his face in cold light. He looked so handsome there it hurt.

Oh, how she wanted to jump his bones right there and then but her body was still so damned sore… They could still cuddle after her bath though. Leaning down, Elizabeth captured his lips, languidly kissing the infamous blackhand. Elias would be having a blasted fit if he found out. She felt Garrett’s arms encircle her waist, pulling her closer until she was up against his chest.

“The water’s going to get cold if you don’t leave now,” he murmured then laughed as Elizabeth let out a whine.

“I know… You don’t make this easy.” She pouted as they broke apart.

“I’ll still be here when you get back. Don’t worry.” Garrett leaned back on his elbows, the mattress squeaking slightly from the movement. With a defeated sigh, Elizabeth trudged over to the bathroom, shutting the door before she stripped free of her gown. A draft danced its way over her skin, goosebumps stirring in its wake. That gave her the motivation to dip into the copper tub and get to work scrubbing her body clean.

The lukewarm water was enough to drive away most of the cold but she still hurried out of its depths and into an awaiting towel then a shift and robe Charlotte had laid out for her. Her skin was ruddy and pink and her damp hair rolled down her back in clumps. She could still smell the rose water oil she rubbed into her skin, enjoying its gentle floral scent. As she stepped back into her room, Garrett had since changed into the loose trousers and shirt Charlotte plucked out for him. One corner of his side of her bed had been pulled back while he waited for her.

It was such a welcome sight. A year and half ago, she never would’ve thought to have found comfort in the arms of a thief but here she was. Setting aside her robe, Elizabeth stretched her arms over her head, joints popping back into place, before diving under the covers. She felt the mattress dip down as it accepted Garrett’s weight and he soon wrapped an arm about her middle, tugging her close as he’d done several times before.

His breath tickled the back of her neck before he planted a kiss there causing her to shiver in delight.

“You need your rest, Liz,” he whispered, a smile plain in his voice. He knew how much these little touches affected her and was fun at her expense.

“Damn it, I know, but you don’t make this easy, Garrett,” she repeated, looking over her shoulder at him. He looked quite pleased with himself as he pressed yet another kiss to her hair.

“I’m well aware I’ll be paying for it all later,” he teased. “But, for now, sleep. There’s always the morning.”

“I’m holding you to that, Thief,” Elizabeth mumbled as she got comfortable and buried herself deep in the comforter. Garrett gently squeezed her in a hug and nuzzled the back of her neck.

—-

Elizabeth had stepped away behind her changing partition as Charlotte started up her evening bath when she heard her balcony door slam open. Elizabeth paused briefly after she shrugged out of her dining gown and stood only in her long shift, puzzled. Had she not latched the thing properly. The sound of a metal tray clattering to the floor snapped her out of her reverie and she quickly darted around the partition then stopped due to shock.

The sound of a storm brewing outside, wind howling past her opened door and the gush of running water was all she could hear. The combined cacophony drowned out the Master Thief’s ragged breathing as he’d collapsed to all fours with an arm wrapped around his middle. It seemed he’d attempted to slow his descent by grabbing onto a small end table nearby but snagged the serving tray instead, sending it, and himself, to the tile. Elizabeth shook her head to snap out of her stupor and flew to the man’s side, eyes darting across his leather armor in search of the wound.

I need to know, Majima-san. Just who is Lily, really? What is your family doing looking for her?

Elizabeth rolled over for the umpteenth time in her bed before kicking back the covers with a small huff. A quick glance at the clock by her bedside revealed it to be just after two in the morning. She desperately wanted to follow that siren call of sleep but her mind wouldn’t shut off. And her cramps had come back sometime within the last few hours. She’d already taken the painkillers Charlotte left her and they dulled the aches just enough to take the edge off. Elizabeth hugged the hot water bladder she’d stuffed under her covers prior to falling asleep to her chest, wishing its warmth would take away the aches to no avail.