ততততত

𝐓 𝐎 𝐁 𝐈 𝐍

Getting inside the castle walls? Easy. Not even a misstep. For approximately thirty seconds, I felt real good about my odds for figuring this place out.

Now that I'm inside, I realize I am completely fucked.

I study Gareth's map, but even then I recognize major faults. According to the map, there should be a stable around here, but instead, all that remains of that stable are stones for the foundation. No horses. Just the faintest smell of horse shit.

I study the map again, analyzing important landmarks from the castle and keeping an eye on the guards as they make rounds. The courtyard remains dark, unlit. Usually, I have nothing to lose when I decide to do shit like this, but Gareth's given me a chance to gain everything I lost back.

Aspen.

She'd be so old now. It's been ten years since I last saw her, and she was hardly six years old then. What does that make her now? Sixteen? Would she even remember the day her fifteen year old brother left without a trace?

I snap my thoughts away from Aspen and try and take Gareth's advice. He swears by a blindspot on top of the library's rooftop. From analyzing the guards, I hate to admit he's right. It's out of the way of the watchtowers. The only one who would have a view comes from the faint glow emanating off an empty balcony, a perceived "low-threat". I tread in that direction. Out of sight. Out of mind.

I swing myself up the walls, bouldering the edges of the carved stone. I dress in dark clothes, my identity concealed as I warp my facial features with dark cloth like a mask. When my feet settle on the roof, I scurry along the perimeters of the castle. The royal library should be below me now, but I need to get inside. Perhaps an open window, or an unlocked back entryway, or—

WHACK.

I canter back. The silver head of an arrow wedges my tunic into the wall, somehow scathing my bicep and sinking into the stone mortar.

Fuck.

Either I got lucky and it missed my heart, or this ain't a shot to kill. It's to capture.

I attempt to pull the arrow out, only to have another arrow fly through the air, snagging the cloth of my other arm. I'm pinned to the wall—sort of. If I wiggle my arms enough, or even just manage to take off my tunic, I can get the hell out of here before the guards find me.

Because either way, this mission is fucked. I'm so, so, so—

A dainty hand garnered in golden rings presses against my chest and pushes me back up against the castle wall. A pair of grey irises stare back at me, fierce and illuminatingly dangerous. Honey gold waves fall down her scalp in sweet waterfalls. The world comes to a halt as heaven and earth collide, and I gaze upon the physical embodiment of moonlight.

A girl.

She's the first to ever catch me like this, to stop me.

Gods, she smells of vanilla.

She leans in a little, her lips a playful smile. "You must be pissing your pants right now."

"Pissing is an understatement," I grumble, fighting with my clothes.

The girl presses her hand deeper against my chest, keeping her grey eyes locked on my own. She tears the arrow from the wall, freeing my left arm.

The girl lifts the arrow head up to my neck, forcing me to crane upward as the sharp point digs into my skin. She smirks with those soft pretty lips. "How'd you get inside the castle walls?"

I reach for the sword in the scabbard on my hip with my freed hand, but refrain from drawing it. She has no idea who she's dealing with, that even if they capture me there's a great chance I can get away. The girl doesn't seem to notice the movement.

With one swift tug, she tears the disguise from my face. I draw my sword, swinging it behind me so my arm wraps around her torso and the blade presses between her shoulder blades. The long blade spikes up against the back of her skull, up above her height. Her nose remains inches from mine, and that vanilla smell? Stronger, more addictive.

Shit. Here I am. Identity exposed.

Up close, she analyzes the features of my face. She's the only one who's seen me like this—free without a mask.

"Not much of a talker, huh?" She lowers the arrow from my neck. Her fingers clasp on my elbow, coaxing me to lower my stance and sword from her back. The scare tactic doesn't even frighten her. I should kill her. Keep my identity safe. Yet, all it takes is one whiff of vanilla and I obey and drop my arm.

The girl pries the other arrow from my tunic, freeing me from her hold. "Are you a thief?"

I gaze back up at her and those damning grey eyes. In that moment, I lose everything. My mind. My breath. My soul. There's an undeniable beauty about her, but each time I meet those grey eyes, I see a deeper purity that causes me to choke up and fall captive to that soft heart Gareth says that I have.

And all for what? This girl who held an arrow to my neck? This girl who pinned me to a wall without cutting my arm? Maybe it's not my soft heart.

Maybe I'm just in complete awe of her.

"Maybe I am," I mumble. "Maybe not."

She smirks. "You are."

"And how can you tell?"

"You may know how to sneak around the castle, but your eyes tell me everything."

I swallow. "So do yours."

"And what are they saying?"

I run a hand through my dark chestnut hair. Somehow, a beam of moonlight seems to reach her: her porcelain skin, her misty eyes, her silky hair. She's ethereal, almost otherworldly in physical beauty.

I lean in, my lips curving slightly as the scent of vanilla overcomes me. "Your damn eyes are saying that you'll let me go and get on with my job."

"Not even close," she leans in as well, her lips almost brushing up against my skin as she releases the purest giggle. "Come with me. You already made it this far. Usually petty thieves don't make it past the main courtyard."

Petty thief. I scoff at the remark, because if she knows what I've done, she wouldn't be insulting my ego like that. Yet, when she spins on her heels and scampers away from me, I become trapped in that vanilla scent.

Somehow, my legs follow her as we navigate the darkness of the castle, as if they'd developed a mind of their own. Stop it. I tell myself, wanting to send my body into a timeout for disobeying my brain. At least this girl has a knack for avoiding the watchguards. She calculates every movement to keep us hidden from royal eyes.

She slips over an upper balcony, extending her soft, yet nimble fingers out to me. I hoist myself over.

I lift my gaze to our location in the castle. A bedroom. Plush pillows. Softly burning hearth. Paintings. Maps. Books.

Then I see her, and the realization hits me like an arrow to the face.

The princess.

According to rumours, she's known to keep to herself. While her father, King Orion Mironescu III, makes most public appearances, the princess of Lagulon decides to keep in the shadows (an impossible feat considering she illuminates the room with her presence). There's a slight golden shimmer around those grey moons she has for eyes, as well as a slight gloss to her lips. From beneath her cloak, I catch the rings that mimic vines weaving around her fingers.

If I wasn't fucked before, I am now. So fucked.

She takes my hand in her own, a touch that ripples through my veins and zaps my heart. She pulls me deeper into the room, and I follow her light as if the world had gone pitch black. There's no escaping her now. She'll probably just hand me over to the guards to finish me off.

And now, there's no chance of reuniting with Aspen.

She releases my hand in front of a large table. Against the old oak wood lies an ancient map of the Lagulon castle, one more detailed than the one Gareth provided me. This one charts every corner and curve with precision, the secret behind every locked door and closet. The throne room. The kitchen. The bedrooms in every wing of the castle. The library. And if I look closely at that secret room...

It's unlabelled. Damn it.

She points to a tower located just within sight of her balcony. "See this tower?"

I peer over her shoulder, nodding.

"That's the way you wanna go to escape tonight. The guard there on duty leaves around a quarter past midnight to meet his lover, which means you could dance around the field butt-naked for at least half-an-hour and nobody in the castle would notice."

I grin. "Wouldn't you like watching that."

"I need some form of entertainment to keep me occupied," She turns to me, her eyes scanning my figure. A delicious smirk develops on her slightly glossy lips. "I'm Imogen, by the way."

Imogen. I knew her name. Imogen Mironescu. Princess of Lagulon. Heir to the throne. Capturer of petty thieves. Lures them into her bedroom. Tells them to dance naked in the courtyard.

I cross my arms, studying the moonbeam in front of me a little more. I've never seen hair so soft, like velvet honey that I long to touch and taste. Her eyes enchant me in that misty grey, and that goddamn smell of vanilla makes my one-track mind split in a million different directions.

"So why the hell are you helping out a petty thief?"

She smiles. "Think of it as a reward for being clever enough to make it this far."

I grunt at this. Sure, sparing me is enough of a reward, but this hardly gets me closer to my goal for the night. Gareth will be waiting for me to report back with some valuable information, and so far the only information I can share is that I got outwitted by the princess. Even then, I want to keep that a secret.

She laughs at my reaction. "Would you rather I send you to the guards?"

"Never thought the princess would be so fucking generous by sparing me," I tease. "Might as well get on my knees, bow at your feet and kiss the ground you walk on too."

"Huh, I thought you'd be a little grateful for not killing you."

"You wouldn't kill."

"And how would you know that?"

I smirk as those moonlit eyes flash at me, and I take the words right out of her goddamned mouth. "Your eyes tell me everything."

Her cheeks blush. Adorable. Wait—no. I can't think she's adorable. I should be getting the hell out of here, maybe even find an alternative route of some sort on my second attempt.

Instead, a more helpless, desperate question leaves my lips. "So you're not gonna rat me out?"

"I think I'd be more punished than you for having a petty thief in my room unsupervised."

"You're the one that brought me here."

"And you followed," there's a twinkle in those grey eyes.

"I'm just obeying the orders of the Princess of Lagulon."

She blushes, her title hanging in the air. She never confessed that she was the princess; she just introduced herself as if she were some ordinary village girl off the street. I admire her attempt to be humble, when all I really need is to get out of here.

She wanders over to the balcony, her eyes now watching the flickering lights of Summervale. She's brilliant in an odd sort of way, yet so fucking naive. I'm a stranger to her, a man who snuck onto royal property without invitation. It's enough of a felony that would send me to the dungeons to die by the gallows.

And yet she brought me here. Her bedroom. And worst of all, she left me alone with riches beyond compare.

Gold flickers from the corner of my vision. A laurel rests on her desk—one so magnificent that I fear if I touch it I might burn my fingers. Her back still remains to me, and I reach out, to snatch it—

An arrow flies in front of me, spearing into the wall.

I back away from the treasure. At least this time she didn't snag my shirt.

Imogen lowers her bow and tosses it on the ground. My heart pounds a little faster within my ribs, and for a fucking moment, all my thoughts swarm with images of her. Those eyes. Her blush. Her smile. Maybe I shouldn't test the waters when the princess is equipped with a weapon that could kill me.

"It was a gift from someone special," her voice breaks the silence in this light melody. "I'd prefer it if you took something else?"

She's toying with me now.

She saunters over to her vanity and opens a drawer, pulling out a pendant. The thin gold chain drapes over her fingers before she clasps the golden crescent moon in her palm. She extends her hand out to me, the pendant in place. I notice the etchings on it, palm leaves decorated with miniscule diamonds. It's magnificent, worth more than anything I've ever taken in my life.

"You can sell this for 5000 coins if you wanted," she winks at me. "You can buy yourself a house with that sort of money."

I chuckle. "Do I look like the type of man that needs a house?"

"What about your wife?"

"Don't have time for one."

"Well thank the stars," she places the pendant in my palm and closes her hand over top of mine. "What woman would want to marry the worst thief I've ever encountered?"

A muscle in my jaw twitches as she once again calls me a terrible thief. I thought she would regard me a little more highly (I don't know, maybe out of some weird streak of respect), but I take the pendant anyway.

Imogen wanders back over to the balcony, gazing outward at the city below. It's almost as if she's magnetized to it. The fire. The light. The burning. Her moonlit gaze meets my own, and I see her own fire that burns beneath her skin. It's beautiful, deadly, yet I find myself drawn to it like a moth to a flame.

But I stop myself.

The light I see inside her is oddly dim. Dimmer than it should be.

"I'm sorry for holding you hostage," she admits. "I won't tell the guards if you can make it out of here alive."

I clench the pendant in my pocket—her pendant. "Well, before I leave here I promised a certain princess I'd dance in a field butt-naked."

Her lips curve at the comment. "You know I was kidding."

"I know," I smile. "But thank you."

I step onto the railing, about to swoop myself over the edge. There's no need to stay if I got some gold and a chance to break free, right?

But there's a fracture in her moonlit eyes that causes me to hesitate. Her purity—it's shadowed by a darkness that I can't understand.

We're not friends, hardly acquaintances. I'm just a thief the princess decided to spare on a whim, but tonight seems to be a collection of stupid decisions and thoughts. Shoot me with arrow and kill me, but I guess the princess is okay and I wouldn't mind getting captured by her again.

"My name's Tobin."

Those grey orbs flicker as they meet mine. I just tossed her a line, and I wait for her to catch it.

"Tobin," she repeats. Her voice never sounded so perfect uttering my name. She takes a step towards me and cups my cheek, perching herself on her tiptoes to kiss my cheek. "I wish you luck out there, my thief."

I blush as she pulls away from the chaste kiss on my skin. "Until next time, my princess."

With a quick wink, I descend down the castle walls, using her calculated direction.

It's not until I lay alone in the shelter of the forests that I reach for the map Gareth left me. I studied Imogen's map on her desk, and it's enough to fill in some of the blanks. Except, when I reach into my pocket, there's nothing.

It's gone.

Or perhaps, stolen by my princess.

── •✧• ──

I have so many versions of their first encounter, but it's one of my favourite scenes in the entire book. There's just something so special about two people meeting for the first time in the most wild and unlikely of circumstances.

I hope you're enjoying the story so far! There's a lot more of Imogen & Tobin mischief to come very, very soon! If you're interested in reading more, make sure you vote, comment & share the story with others!