He had barely felt it, nearly dismissed the touch against his head as vines from the Gateway to the Sea. It was just by chance that he had looked up, locking gazes with the most vibrant blue eyes he had ever seen. It took him a moment to realize the woman those eyes belonged to was holding a crown.

His crown.

Rage surged through him, a red-hot heat as the woman scrambled to her feet and took off across the roofs, pushing through those gathered to watch the procession and throw flowers down at the queens carriages. His face contorted into a snarl, and he climbed onto his saddle, leaping onto the old stone arch and taking off after her. “Stop! By order of the crown!”

“Wulfram! Guards, do not let that thief escape!” His father gestured to the guards that had been escorting the carriage, five of them splitting off to head into the Tangle after Wulfram and the thief. The rest clustered closer to the carriage and king, drawing their weapons as they looked over the quickly scattering populace for other thieves or attackers.

Wulfram trusted them to protect his family, he wanted to catch the woman who thought she could steal from him. She had the advantage of knowing where she was going, and she had a head start. But he had years of training on his side, honing his stamina, reflexes and strength. His feet pounded across the rooftops after her, leaping with ease across the same gaps she did, climbing the same crates and walls. “STOP!”

He channeled every ounce of command in his body into the shout, and she hesitated. Just for a moment, but it was enough for him to close some of the gap between them. He reached out to grab her, but she started moving again, glancing over her shoulder at him, eyes wide with fear.

“Are you crazy?!” She shouted back at him, and he nearly laughed. That was some question coming from her!

“Are you?” He challenged her, following her around a pile of crates and debris that half covered the roof, cursing as he nearly tripped over a large piece of masonry that had been knocked off one of the buildings higher up the slope. It had been nearly thirty years, and efforts to clear the debris from the Tangle had long been abandoned to deal with the conflict with Hesiodos. The woman leapt across another roof, pausing as the wood creaked beneath her.

She spun, her eyes wide, one hand outstretched as he leapt through the air. “Wait! Don’t!”

But it was too late, he was already in the air. He landed on the rotten wood with a heavy thud, the wood groaning and cracking beneath their feet. He froze, looking down as the wood started to buckle beneath their combined weight. With a loud crack, the whole thing collapsed beneath them, and they fell through to the floor below in a hail of dust and debris.

Wulfram let out a groan, shoving a piece of rotten wood off him as he sat up. Luckily the fall hadn’t been that far, and the floor beneath them flexed, cushioning them somewhat. But his back still ached from where he had landed. Damn little thief... what the hell was she thinking?

He had to admit to a certain level of admiration at the gutsiness of her stunt, but he was still going to haul her away to the dungeon. If she lived that long.

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“Your highness! Are you alright?” A familiar voice called down from the edge of the roof, and Wulfram looked up, squinting in the settling dust. One of the guards from the procession... good.

“I’m fine. Be careful though, the roof is rotten!” So was the floor beneath them for that matter. He looked around for the thief, spotting movement a short distance away, and the bright glint of his crown among the rubble. The thief was sprawled across some of the rubble, groaning as she started to sit up with the caution of one expecting pain at the movement.

He scowled, pushing himself fully to his feet. He could feel the sore points where he would be developing bruises soon enough, but nothing felt broken. A blessing, considering the fall. The floor groaned and flexed beneath him, and he moved carefully across to the thief. She was just starting to move, her eyes on him as she reached for the crown she had attempted to steal.

Wulfram stepped on her wrist, his voice a growl. “Don’t Move.”

She froze, her eyes made more vibrant by the dirt that covered her face. Towering over her, he rather felt like a cat that had cornered a mouse. He leaned down, grabbing the crown from where it had fallen. The thief tried to pull her arm from under him, and he increased the weight on her wrist until she let out a whimper of pain. “I said don’t move!”

The woman froze, terror filling those beautiful blue eyes of hers, the same pale blue of mountain wildflowers. He had only seen eyes that color a couple of times before, on warriors of the Hesiodos clans. Was she one of them? Had she been sent to steal a royal treasure and make a fool of him?

But no, she was too scrawny, less street rat and more mouse. All the Hesiodos clansmen and women he had seen were strong, or at least decently fed. When was the last time this girl had had a proper meal? No, she was no warrior of Hesiodos, she was no warrior at all. He leaned down, grabbing her by her other arm, and hauling her to her feet. “Tell me. What did you hope to gain from this stupid stunt? And why shouldn’t I shove you in a gibbet for the vultures?”

The woman grabbed his hand with her free one, trying to pry his hand from it. She grit her teeth, leaning back away from him as far as she could in an attempt to get away. He snarled, lifting her off her feet. “Answer me! Or are you mute?”

The thought gave him pause, was she mute? He could tell she was malnourished, she was shockingly light. But were things worse than that for her? No, she had spoken earlier, she was no mute. The rage boiled up over pity, and he gave her a shake. “Speak up girl!”

“That hurts!” She finally yelped, her nails digging into his skin as she tried to pry away his hand.

“Ah, she finds her voice again. Now answer the questions! Or should I just throw you in the dungeon myself?” He would likely throw her in the dungeon anyways, there was no way he could just let her get away after what she had attempted to do. In full view of a crowd of people no less! She had to be stupid, desperate, or insane.

She glared at him, false bravado and anger nearly hiding the fear in her eyes. He could feel how fast her heart was beating though, he knew she was terrified, and with good reason. “Why did you try and steal from me?”

“Your highness, we’re sending down a rope!” The guard had returned, Wulfram hadn’t even noticed that he had left. But he had reappeared with a rough rope. The only problem was the fact that the rope was let down on the other side of the room.

“I’ll be right up, with our little thief.” He smirked a bit, lowering her just enough so that her feet touched the floor. It groaned again, and one of the wooden planks cracked. He froze for a moment, the sound distracting him from the thief long enough for her to drive a knee up into his groin. He doubled over, letting out a groan of pain as he released her, hands moving to the offended part. Prince, soldier or pauper, a knee to the groin was still a knee to the groin. “You little....”

She grabbed for the crown, either ignoring or not noticing the shout from the guard. The other man leapt down into the room, drawing his sword. “You’ll pay for laying hands on the prince!” He shouted.

But the added weight was too much. The already struggling floor let out one final groan, before collapsing beneath them, plunging all three of them into darkness.