Chapter 55 The Blueprint of A Thief
Chapter 55 The Blueprint of A Thief
Chapter 55: The Blueprint of a Thief
Neria watched the tiny lizard scurry deeper into the hedge.
She wasn't supposed to be here…
Well, at least, not again. The logic of the universe had snapped, and for some reason, she had been tossed back into the white petals.
"My Lady, why are you talking to the garden pests?" Mina asked, eyeing the bushes with a look of mild disgust. "We really must get you inside. The Duke will be home shortly, and he expects a full report on your preparation for the Saintess."
Neria stood up, dusting the moss from her ivory skirts. "The preparation is changing, Mina. Tell the head groom to ready my horse. Not the mare, the stallion. I need something with speed."
"Speed? But where are you going? You have a fitting for the midnight velvet in two hours!"
"The dress can wait," Neria’s tone dropped to a level of authority that made the maid react. "I have a debt to settle with a dungeon."
As she walked back toward the mansion, Neria’s thoughts were moving faster than her feet.
Why was she back? Was it because the world had been erased too soon? Or was she a glitch in a system that didn't know how to handle her frequency?
It didn't matter. What mattered was the egg.
In her previous life, she had found Pip by accident, stumbling through the palace depths after losing her way. This time, she knew the patrols, the shifts, and the exact key around the warden’s neck.
"Mina," Neria said as they entered the cool marble foyer of the estate. "Who is currently guarding the West Wing of the Royal Palace? Is it still the Third Battalion?"
Mina blinked, trying to keep up with Neria’s brisk pace. "I... I believe so, My Lady. But why do you care about the palace guards? You usually only care about which one is handsome enough to hold your parasol."
"Information is more beautiful than a handsome face," Neria muttered. "If the Third is on duty, that means Alistair is at the gate. And if Alistair is at the gate, Sebastian is in the East Library."
She stopped at the foot of the grand staircase and turned to the maid. "I need a cloak. Something dark to make me invisible. Not a lady’s wrap. Something a commoner would wear."
"A commoner's cloak? My Lady, you’re acting as if you’re planning a heist!"
Neria leaned in, and Mina noticed a glint in her green eyes. "That’s because I am, Mina. I’m going to steal back a piece of my soul before the Princes have a chance to turn it into a weapon."
"You’re going to the palace? Alone? Prince Sebastian will have your head if he finds you wandering the restricted levels!"
"Sebastian will be too busy counting his disappearing coins to notice me," Neria replied, curling her lips into a smile.
"He’s obsessed with the treasury right now. He thinks the numbers are lying to him. He doesn't realise the gold isn't just gone; it’s being redirected by a ghost."
"A ghost? What are you talking about?"
"Never mind. Just get the cloak."
Neria went up to her room and looked at the vanity, at the jars of expensive creams and the jewelry boxes filled with gold.
She pushed them aside, reaching for a small, hidden compartment at the back of the drawer. She pulled out a small vial of sleeping draught she had kept for her own insomnia.
"This time, I’m not the victim," she whispered to her reflection.
Neria looked at her green eyes, so different from the violet ones she had seen in the past. This was her original body, her original self, but with the memories of a goddess who had seen the world end.
"How are you going to get past Alistair?" she asked herself. "He knows your face. He knows your scent."
"I’ll use the one thing he can’t resist," she answered with her own reflection. "The truth. Or at least, a version of it that keeps him occupied."
Mina returned with a charcoal-grey cloak. "I took this from the laundry stores. It’s thick enough to hide your silhouette, but My Lady, I’m terrified. What if you’re caught? The Duke will disown you!"
"The Duke will be lucky if he has a house by the end of the week," Neria said, swinging the cloak over her shoulders. "Keep the servants quiet. If anyone asks, I am in a deep sleep and must not be disturbed. Do you understand?"
"Yes... yes, My Lady."
Neria slipped out of the side entrance, heading for the stables.
Everything this time felt different this time…sharper, more pregnant with possibility. She didn't feel like a character in a book anymore.
"Wait for me, Pip," Neria muttered as she mounted the stallion. "I’m coming to get you out before the salt starts to harden."
She kicked the horse into a gallop, the mansion faded behind her very quickly.
Good thing that Neria had four days to change the frequency of the world, and it all started with an egg in a dark room.
As she neared the palace gates, she saw the glint of gold armor.
Alistair was there, leaning against a stone pillar, resting his hand on his standard-issue sword.
He looked human…not like the monster who had just turned her to light.
Neria pulled the hood over her head and slowed her horse.
"Halt," Alistair’s voice rang out, but still sounded calmly. "State your business at the King’s gate."
Neria looked down at him from beneath the shadow of her hood. "I have a message for the Master of the Pits," there was a hush, pitch-perfectly imitating the accent of a palace courier.
Alistair narrowed his eyes, stepping closer. "The pits are restricted. Only the Royal Guard and the Prince’s inner circle have access. Who sent you?"
Neria leaned down, letting a single lock of her brown hair fall into the light.
"The same person who knows about the secret in the archives, Alistair. Now, are you going to let me pass, or should I go tell the Prince why you’re really standing here?"
Alistair’s hand froze on his sword. "Who are you?"
"A friend," Neria whispered. "Or your worst nightmare. It depends on how quickly you move out of my way."