She stood in the unfamiliar stain-glassed, red bricked room as she fiddled with her green scarf. Even now, she had no idea why she was chosen to be a King's Thief. She was just a mere Keeperian girl. But one look at her, and the king made his decision. It was not a decision to go against, after all. He was King Rowan, one of the most powerful and well respected kings in Terria, unlike King Lionelle. She gave a small snort. Some king he was, King Lionelle of Telenoir. It was well known that he was more of a king of vanity than anything else.

She walked over to the fire place and brushed her hand across one of the wooden carvings that sat on top of the hearth. The cool wood felt rough against her skin. Someone clearly took a lot of time making this, Estelle thought. There were similar figures around the room, all different creatures. Aside from those, though, the room was pretty threadbare. "After the ceremony, this room will become yours," the king had said after he showed her around the massive castle. He even told her that she could decorate it with anything she'd like, that she could make it feel like home.

Estelle heaved a heavy sigh, her mouth drawn down in a frown. Why should she accept this? She was responsible for the fall of her village, after all. Because of her, it was now a pile of ash. Because of her, her family burned. Because of her...She squeezed her eyes shut. Stop it. This is not how a Keeperian should act. We are of a brave race, not a sorrowful downtrodden one. Are you devastated? Yes. Is this probably your fault? She took a shuddering breath. Probably. But mama and papa wouldn't want you to tear yourself up because of this. What have they always told you? "Even if the way is plunged in darkness, knowledge and bravery will always be your guiding lights." Estelle took a deep breath and whispered. "Mama, Papa, Arielle. I won't let you down," As she gathered herself once more, a knock at the door disturbed the almost eerie silence of the room.

"Ay, Ellie!" A rather obnoxious voice yelled out to her.

Estelle scrunched her face up in annoyance. It was the prince again. Finnigan. Of all the stories she had heard about the prince from her fellow Keeperians, nothing could have possibly prepared her for meeting him in person. He was pompous, rude, obnoxious, cocky, and a total flirt. And he just had to be two years older than her. So they were in the same age group. Thank the Fae they didn't meet in her village otherwise that would be a very, very, very bad thing. Estelle shuddered at the thought.

"Ellie? Are ya in there?" Finnigan called out again.

Estelle let out a huff and scowled at the door. He's not going to go away, is he? She walked over to the door and flung it open revealing the current source of her annoyance in all of his princely glory.

He gave her a lazy grin as he rocked back and forth on his heels. "There's my new little thief, I was wonderin' where ya were," he crooned.

Estelle's scowl deepened. "Go. Away. And don't call me Ellie you vinnullus speakanti."

Finnigan chuckled. "There ya go again speakin' that odd language again."

She growled. "Esin Keeperian ti gloma. Treti a glomanda cognoscona ta."

He shook his head and ran his hand through his brown hair. "Yup, no idea what ya just said. But thank the Fae, father's men found ya when they did. By now, you'd be looted and battered by gremlins—bloody little blighters they are—and I wouldn't 'ave a chance to get to know such an intrestin' girl," Finnigan said with a smirk.

Estelle clenched her fists. This boy is incorrigible. She thought. "What I said, is it's Keeperian, you idiot. Only an imbecile wouldn't know that."

"Ah! Keeperian! Ya, ya, I remember readin' about that in a book I stole from Marsh once." A thoughtful look crossed Finnigan's face. "I also heard what 'appened to that village. Real sorry about that. I know what it's like to lose someone you care about."

Estelle regarded him with a raised eyebrow, but her scowl softened slightly when she saw an all too familiar look pass through his blue eyes: the pain of losing a loved one. As soon as that look came though, it left just as fast, and he was back to his happy-go-lucky self.

"Anyways, the reason why I'm 'ere—"

"To annoy the ever-loving crap out of me?" Estelle quipped.

Finnigan let out a low chuckle. "Ya know, I get the feeling you don't like me very much Ellie."

Estelle rolled her eyes and crossed her arms over her chest. "My, what gave you that idea, oh Prince of Thieves? And quit calling me Ellie. My name is Estelle!"

With a shrug he replied. "Just a feeling," he smirked. "Most girls my age usually flock to me in droves and do really anything to get my attention. You don't do that," he said simply.

Estelle deadpanned. He really is full of himself isn't he? She thought. "Well, I wouldn't imagine someone would be too thrilled after being woken up from a rather traumatic experience by someone stealing an incredibly important object from them. And then you proceeded to make me chase after you in an unfamiliar castle, while I had absolutely no clue where I was or how I got there. And then, if that wasn't enough, you hid behind a trick door and when I passed by, blindfolded me with my scarf and didn't give it back until King Rowan practically had to force you to give it back!" Estelle's breaths coming out in quick bursts.

Finnigan held his hands up in surrender. "Whoa, calm down Ellie. Father told me to bring you to him, so I thought that would be the best way. Plus, don't tell me ya didn't enjoy the chase," he finished with a wink.

Estelle growled in response. "Leave."

Finnigan let out a sigh and scratched the back of his neck. "Fine, I'm sorry. That scarf obviously means a lot to ya, and I shouldn't 'ave taken it. I was just tryin' to have a bit a' fun. Although that irritated look on your cute face was very worth it."

Estelle raised her arm to hit him, but he caught it in mid strike. "Fine, fine. I give. I'm sorry. Kay? Friends?"

Estelle let out a huff, and regarded him warily but lowered her hand. "Acquaintances. Nothing more," she muttered.

Finnigan pumped his fist and moved to give Estelle a hug, but stopped abruptly when he saw her glare. "Acquaintances eh? Heh, I'll take it, but rest assure, we'll be more than that in due time," Finnigan said confidently.

Estelle gave a snort and shook her head. "What? Like some weird rag-tag partners in crime duo?"

A smirk pulled at Finnigan's lips and there was an odd look that passed through his blue eyes that Estelle couldn't quite place. "Partners in crime eh? I like it!"

"You're incorrigible."

Finnigan winked, and with a snicker he said, "You know you like it."

She merely gave a scoff. I swear this boy will be the death of me one day. "Whatever lets you sleep at night." Estelle leaned against the doorway and started tapping her foot. "So," she started. "You're here because?"

His eyes lit up as he remembered, and his lips pulled into a grin. "Right! I was so distracted with your beauty that I almost forgot why I'm 'ere."

"Finnigan. Get on with it."

Finnigan gave a low chuckle. "Right, right. Father wanted me to come an' get ya for your King's Thief ceremony."

Estelle took on a thoughtful look and glanced down at her feet. "Oh."

Finnigan's grin softened to a sympathetic smile and he put a hand on Estelle's shoulder. "Hey now, what's with the sad face? This is a great day! Not many get the chance to join our ranks, ya know."

Estelle shrugged his hand off and met his gaze. "I don't deserve it," she mumbled.

He put his hands on his hips and leaned against the doorway. "What'cha mean you don't deserve it? Father saw somethin' in ya, so of course you deserve it."

She shook her head. "I don't know what he saw, but it's certainly not a King's Thief." Estelle clenched her hands into fists as tears started to well up. "A King's thief is supposed to be brave, strong, loyal, and cunning. Not a coward who might very well have been the cause of the death and burning of her whole village," she said her voice rising with each word, the tears flowing freely now.

"I do not—" Estelle's voice cracked as she tried to find the right words. "I do not deserve to be a King's Thief," Her face showed a look of despair as the words passed her lips, as if someone shoved a dagger straight through her heart.

Finnigan pulled away from the doorframe and plucked a piece of cloth out of his black trousers. "Here," he told her, handing her the blue cloth. She took it gratefully.

He then fixed her with a serious look. "Now Estelle. I may not know what ya been through, but I'm willin' to learn if ya let me. And I may not be able to do much now, but I can promise ya this. And listen well girly, cause Finnigan Clyde never goes back on a promise," Finnigan took Estelle's hand in his, and this time she didn't pull back, she was too transfixed by the determined look in those blue irises of his.

"I promise, with every fiber of my being that we will find who is responsible for the burning of your village and the murder of your people. I can't do much now being twelve and all, but when I'm older I'll sure as bloody 'ell track those monsters down and make 'em pay for making ya feel this way. And one day, you'll look back on this moment, and wonder why the bloody 'ell you questioned yourself in the first place."

Estelle opened her mouth to say something in response to Finnigan's speech, but she couldn't find the words. No one ever treated her like that. Not even in her village. Sure, they all looked after each other, but when it came right down to it, you could only lean on yourself for support. But this, this was different. Finnigan actually wanted her to put her trust, her faith, in him. It was a different feeling to have someone you can lean on. It was nice.

Estelle sniffed and dried the last of her tears. "You don't even know me that well though," she mumbled.

Finnigan chuckled lightly and let go of her hand. "But I will. Like you said, we're gonna be partners in crime."

She gave him a small smile. "I guess I did."

He grinned and stepped a few feet backwards, dragging Estelle a long with him. "That's my girl. Now come on, we've got a King's Thief ceremony to get to!" he cheered.

The throne room was decorated in all sorts of colors. From blues, to earthy browns, even a few spots of red here and there. Banners hung from the ceiling bearing the royal crest: a crow in a brown hood, standing in front of a bow and arrow. The smell of the forest enveloped Estelle like a blanket, adding to her sensory overload of the mass expanse that was the throne room.

She stood in the middle of the room—alone, for Finnigan went to take his place alongside his father. The two stood tall like two intimidating pillars in front of their stone-carved thrones. The whole room was dead silent except for an occasional excited babble or two from some townsfolk that came to see the ceremony.

My ceremony. Estelle thought. She found herself shaking in anticipation or fear. Most likely both. Do I really deserve this though? Estelle started to think. Before she could entertain that thought more, she heard a sudden "Psst." She looked in the direction of the noise and saw that it was from Finnigan. He grinned and gave her a thumbs up. She smiled back and nodded her head. That's right, this is not the time to be thinking of such things, you have people who believe in you. Take that, and run with it.

She then heard the king clear his throat. "People of Nem, my loyal subjects, we come together today to celebrate the arrival of a new King's Thief," The king turned his stare towards Estelle.

"Estelle, please come forward, if you will." He beckoned.

Estelle nodded and walked forward, standing directly in front of King Rowan. The stories she heard did not do him justice. He was tall like a statue and clearly well built like one. His black hair flowed down all the way to the middle of his back, creating an obsidian curtain around his face. He was certainly not one to be trifled with. He wore a dark brown jacket much like Finnigan's, but his showed a lot more wear. His dark green, woolen trouser sharply contrasted with it. Everything about him spoke power. If one did not know that King Rowan was actually a very warm and kind hearted person, they would think he ruled his land with an iron fist.

"My king," Estelle said as she gave a small curtsy.

The corners of his blue eyes crinkled as he smiled. A certain gleam was present in them as he looked at her. Estelle suppressed a chuckle. Now where have I seen that look before? "Now, now. As much as I appreciate the formality as much as the next king, there's no need for that 'ere in Nem. We are not Telenoirians."

A chorus of chuckles rumbled throughout the room. King Rowan raised his hand, and the room fell silent once more. "Just a few weeks ago, we found you looted, beaten, and half-conscious on the Keeperian Mountain Trail. We healed you, and I had you tested by Finnigan taking your scarf from you."

Estelle's eyes widened and King Rowan answered her unspoken question. "Yes, it was my idea to take your scarf. Although, I didn't tell Finnigan to tear through the whole bloody castle with it," he said, throwing a pointed, yet amused look at his son.

Finnigan shrugged. "I thought it was implied," he snickered.

King Rowan shook his head. "Anyway, the point is, it 'as been a long time since I've seen such tenacity and wit in a young lass such as yourself. A very long time," the king trailed off, a faraway look flitting across his face.

"But, why me?" Estelle asked, her voice hesitant.

The king raised an eyebrow. "Why you indeed hm?" With a nearly imperceptible nod of King Rowan's head, a hooded figure stepped out of the crowd, and took out bow and arrow pulling it taut and aiming directly for one person. Finnigan.

The temperature seemed to drop several degrees and the next few moments felt like everything was moving in slow motion. Estelle's eyes widened and without thinking she swiped a sharp blade from the king's belt and launched at the figure tackling him down to the ground as she pressed the blade to his throat. "Don't even think about it," Estelle spat.

King Rowan's chuckles resounded throughout the room and Estelle gave him a confused look, as she still held the blade to the figures throat. "Estelle, my dear, I believe you can let off of my archer now."

Estelle's eyebrows furrowed, and a gasp escaped her lips as she looked back down at the figure. The figure shook off his hood revealing that he was indeed one of the King's archers. His auburn hair ruffled from the fall, a playful smirk adorning his features. "Hi there," he said.

Estelle rolled off of the man and came to stand in front of the king once more, getting more and more confused with each passing minute. "You ordered your man to do this?" she asked. He nodded. Estelle curled her hands into fists, everything seemed to swim before her. The king that she had come to admire, had tried to kill his own son. Sure he might be a lot of things, but that's no reason to kill him. A wave of nausea rolled through her and only when she felt the sting of her fingernails against her skin did she fully come back to reality.

"Why?" she pressed, her voice barely above a whisper. Her legs began to move on their own as she stalked towards the king. The hard edge of her blade's hilt dug into her palm. She felt nothing though, nor did she hear the gasps and nervous babble of the crowd behind her as she lunged for the king, only to be held back by the king's guards.

"Why would you try to kill your own son? Your son!" she yelled as she struggled against the guard's hold.

King Rowan smiled as if nothing was wrong and waved his guards off. "You asked why you, didn't ya? I merely gave you an answer."

As the guards let her go, Estelle could feel her body shake. From fear or anger, she couldn't tell. "But that's no reason to try to take someone's life, let alone your own child's!" she shouted.

Finnigan tried to take a step towards her, but the king held him back. "He wasn't gonna kill me Ellie. This was just another test, just 'ta see if you really 'ave what it takes to be one of us." Finnigan smirked. "And besides, 'e would've been dead in seconds if 'e truly tried to off me anyways."

Estelle blinked. A test? A test. Those two words rang in her head in a continuous loop. He used a near death threat on his son to test her. After a while, she managed to find her voice. "But why?"

King Rowan merely shook his head. "You didn't think you were good enough to be a King's thief yet, when there was a threat present, you didn't hesitate for a moment to steal a possession of another—that switchblade in your hands—and face danger head on to protect someone you 'ardly know. That my dear, is the qualities of a King's Thief."

Estelle's eyes widened.

"There is nothin' in this castle that I don't know about," the King said with a chortle, answering Estelle's unspoken question.

Estelle gave a soft chuckle. "So it seems."

"So," Finnigan drawled. "Does that mean we can finally make Ellie a King's Thief, father?"

King Rowan smiled, and with a nod, he said. "Of course. That is, if she truly wants to be."

Estelle paused for a moment, but nodded shortly after. "Yes your majesty I do." I may still think I don't deserve this, but I have people who are putting their faith in me, I have people who, even if I don't know that well now, they'll help me out of this darkness. And you know what they say, never look a gifted dragon in the mouth

King Rowan clapped his hands together and grinned. "Splendid! Finnigan, the sword?"

Finnigan walked towards the thrones and pulled a long, silver rapier off of the wall and handed it to his father. King Rowan took it in his hand and turned towards Estelle. "Estelle, please kneel."

Estelle knelt to the ground and bowed her head slightly. This is it, she thought. I'm going to become one of them. The Fae have given me a new chance in life, "Ellie..."and I'm not going to waste it. "She-wolf..." Mama, Papa, Arielle. With my new title as a King's Thief, I swear I'll avenge you. I swear it, one day I'll be strong enough. I'll get those intruders in black. I'll make you proud and in the name of the Keepers I'll— "Estelle!"