Lawson Forge was not someone you would expect to see on a rooftop.

He looked old enough to be Maize's father— maybe even her grandfather if she had the chance to meet either of them. He wore a long black jacket with gold trim at the cuffs and collar, whose gold buttons were clasped all the way up to his angular chin, peaked nose, and furrowed brow. He wore plain black pants, black boots, and carried only a satchel slung over his shoulder and across his chest. His grey hair was pulled back behind his head in a tail that fell past his shoulders, and his amber eyes watched her like he already knew her. He looked like a man who was always smiling but never meant the sentiment, which was all the more reason for Maise to be wary.

Forge appeared to be unarmed but only as far as Maize could see, and that didn't mean she was going to lower the knife aimed at him. Forge, on the other hand, seemed to pay no attention to the blade pointed at his chest, though he stopped just out of arms reach.

"I was wondering when you were going to arrive," he said, that grin still upon his weathered lips. "After I heard the explosion I knew it was only a matter of time, but even so— a thief of your expertise should have been here five minutes ago."

"The Guard had extra patrols," Maize informed him. "And how did you get up here so fast?"

"I climbed. Is that not how you arrived as well?"

She was going to continue to defend her reputation but reconsidered as the ache in her hands increased. It was a dull reminder of their true purpose on that rooftop, and she wanted to get back in the Den before it happened again.

Besides, she owed this Lawson Forge nothing.

"Lawson Forge," Ress said thoughtfully, and Maize almost forgot he was at her back.

"You know him?" she asked over her shoulder.

"Of him," her partner corrected, his attention still on the man standing before them. "He's one of the King's lesser advisors."

Forge cleared his throat, bringing Maize's attention back to him. He was brushing unseen dust off the formal jacket he wore, straightening it before he returned his gaze to hers. "I am an advisor of the people and to the people."

"So you're tasked with handling the work no one else wants to do because it'll get their hands dirty," Maize mused.

"I assure you, I am more than aware of the work I am responsible for, which is exactly the reason I'm speaking to you now."

"And you better finish up because we have somewhere we need to be," Maize said quickly, unable to keep her gaze from drifting between the edge of the roof and the fading daylight over the rooftops of Dreduor. They were so close— only a few more feet and she could be over that ledge, in that apartment, and grabbing those papers. But she couldn't do any of it with this lesser advisor over her shoulder.

"Once I'm done talking, you're only going to want to be where I send you. Of that, I assure you."

"Maize," Ress whispered, keeping his tone level which meant he was already trying to reel her in because he knew her too well. He knew she could never not hear someone out, even for the smallest chance of opportunity. Even if she had no intention of following through, she always allowed them to speak.

"Maize," Ress warned again.

But she was already moving closer, lowering the knife though keeping it steady in her hands. "Then talk fast."

Forge clasped his hands behind his back and rocked back on his heels as if pleased with her reaction and becoming far too comfortable in their company.

"I'm sure you're familiar with the celebration happening at the palace in three weeks' time."

"Remembrance Day," Ress said solemnly from where he still stood behind her. "King Silas chose the date of Queen Lusciana's death to celebrate her life rather than mourn her passing."

"Correct," Lawson Forge said, though he sounded like he was displeased with Ress speaking at all like he answered a lesson he wasn't instructed on. Forge maintained his focus on Maize. "And on that day he welcomes in the lords, ladies, delegates, courtiers, and advisors from Dreduor's neighboring kingdoms and greatest allies to come to pay their respects to the fallen queen as they seem fit and deem appropriate."

"Thank you for the history lesson, both of you." Maize sighed, the setting sun like the timebomb she set earlier that day.

"During Remembrance Day, the King puts on display what one may consider some sort of altar in the queen's memory. Her favorite foods are shared, her dresses are put on exhibit, her private collection of jewels and accessories are spread out under glass to be viewed by all."

"Remembrance Day happens every year," Maize reminded him. "So why are you keeping us from our mark to talk to us about a party we'll never be able to attend?"

"Because this year, King Silas is going to have on display one of Queen Lusciana's most prized possessions, never before seen at any previous Remembrance Day. I want you to retrieve it, and if you agree it's going to take me three weeks to prepare you for what awaits."

"So you want me to steal a piece of jewelry under the watchful eye of the palace guard?" Maize was already feeling the thought of the thrill flutter in her stomach. "I thought you were going to be offering something challenging."

"Luciana's Legacy has no known description, no documented form. The color, shape, stone— none other than the name have surfaced, but it is believed to be invaluable. Priceless."

"And you want me to get this— why?"

"I want you to ensure its safety before anyone else considers taking it for themselves. If what we believe to be true occurs, the Legacy has enough value to ruin Dreduor's stability, financial or otherwise."

"So I'll just go in, get it, and get out— I still don't see why this needs three weeks' worth of planning. Give me an hour's warning, and I'll be there."

"Because this is going to take more planning than your menial snatch and grab." His smirk seemed to reflect his sentiments about their current situation. "You will need to infiltrate the castle and bring as little risk to yourself being caught as possible. At all costs."

"Why us?" Ress asked.

"Not you," Forge snapped, almost forgetting himself for a moment before he replaced his grin. "Just her."

"Ress and I don't go anywhere without the other," Maize informed him. "Package deal. Den decree."

"Which is another reason why I'm coming to you directly on the rooftop of your current mission. This needs to be off the books."

Maize's brows furrowed. "Who wants you dead enough that you're doing this outside of the Den?"

Forge shook his head. "I'm an advisor—"

"Lesser advisor," Ress reminded him.

Forge shot him a look meant to harm if it could. Maize didn't appreciate that for one moment. "I work for the crown. And if the King ever found out—"

"So now we're dealing with treason? You want me to sneak into the palace without my knowing there's a death sentence attached to it?" Maize asked, shaking her head. " Look, Lawson Forge, I don't know how you found me, or who told you that I'd even consider it, so I'm sorry you climbed up all this way."

She turned on her heel, more than ready to be done with this conversation. Thief she may be, they still had a code to follow, a set of rules and guidelines that kept them safe, that kept them secure. Going beyond the Den, without the Denmother's permission? She'd be better of jumping from the roof right now and taking her chances there.

"Maybe I can change your mind."

Forge reached into his satchel and held out a piece of folded paper in Maize's direction. She didn't hesitate, though she felt Ress tense behind her. She did, however, use her off-hand to grab it away from him, and stepped back to her partner while she unfolded the parchment to see what inevitably waited inside.

Written upon the paper was a very, very large number.

Keeping her face devoid of any internal emotions, Maize looked back to Forge. "So what— we'll get half of this now and half of it after?"

"Oh no," Forge grinned. "That is half."

Maize almost dropped the paper before Ress took it out of her hands.

With that much gold...

Don't do it.

She closed her eyes tight. Not now...

"More than enough to get yourself finally out to Dreduor. I hear the healers in Xelthan are exceptional."

Forge's voice seemed to clear her head, though the headache remained. She wouldn't ask him how he knew— no one else was supposed to know.

Ress' hand on her back kept her in place, kept her centered, as he moved to stand before her. He knew. He always knew.

"We'll need to think about it," he said, handing the paper back to Forge. "We have a mark to meet, after all."

"Oh no, keep it." Forge waved a hand in the air. "Consider it a token of my intentions. Use it to ponder, to deliberate."

Deliberate how you'll fail. How your failures will get him killed.

Maize grit her teeth against the pressure in her skull, but she needed to save face. "And how will we get our answer to you?"

"I'll give you a day to consider," Forge informed her. "I'll be waiting at the Chamberlain for an hour after tomorrow's sunset. If you do not join me, I will consider my offer forfeit."

Forfeit, like your hopes and dreams and love and desires.

"Oh, one more thing." Forge reached into his satchel again, putting Maize on the defensive despite the deafening pressure building behind her eyes. "These are also for you."

In two hands he held out a stack of bound documents, held together with a dark red ribbon with a wax seal at the top holding it all in place.

Maize's jaw dropped. "How— how did you get those?"

"I intercepted the messenger on the way to the apartment before meeting you here. I do assume these were the items you were looking for?"

She blinked as Ress moved to inspect the parcel in his hands. He gave her a glance over his shoulder with a small nod confirming what she didn't want to believe.

Lawson Forge stole their mark and handed it to them like a roast on a silver platter.

"I hope you'll take this time to consider my proposal," Forge said as he made his way back into the shadows of the roof. "And I do hope we see each other again, Maize."

She considered what else she could say or if there was anything else she could do to show this lessor advisor she could do whatever he had done but better, but he was already over the side of the building before the words or actions could gather to save her pride.