"You told me you'd put my cut in the drawer," comes a harsh whisper from a few feet away. "Well, I looked all through the damn desk, and I didn't see a thing."

I perk up immediately. Now this sounds interesting. I listen as closely as possible, making sure not to betray my interest in any way physically, keeping my body relaxed and expression vacant.

"Maybe you just didn't look hard enough," replies a second voice, slow and sinister. "I put it there myself. I don't believe I appreciate what you're insinuating here…"

"I'm not," the first man walks back, "insinuating anything, all right? I just… didn't see it the first time. I looked for the false bottom in the third drawer, and there was nothing."

"Did you press the button under the desktop?"

Silence. Then,

"No. I didn't."

More silence, for longer this time. I can picture the second man's expression in my mind's eye with perfect clarity, even though I have no idea what he looks like.

The first speaks up again.

"I didn't know-"

"Shut up," the second interrupts coldly. "And think twice before you speak to me in public again."

For the whole conversation, I kept my head facing forward, not letting on that I even noticed they were there. But when I hear two sets of footsteps walking away, I risk a glance.

Luckily, they're both looking around the rest of the room for eavesdroppers, not behind them. Because of all the time I've spent listening in on every conversation every morning, I recognize one of them immediately by the brown saddle markings on his scales – he's a high ranking financial minister named Sulfeng. Sulfeng isn't particularly outspoken compared to other ministers, and he tends to go along with popular opinion in the conversations I've listened in on. Somehow I'm not surprised to learn he's committing some kind of fraud.

The other man is someone I don't recognize, but I take note of his appearance: black with thin white stripes running vertically down his back and his limbs. It shouldn't be terribly hard to find out his name if I ask the right people.

And, I think eagerly, I know exactly who to ask.

This brief clandestine conversation has gotten me exceptionally excited. Political intrigue? Embezzlement? Secret drawers full of illicitly acquired cash? It's making my heart pound. I have to go investigate. I can't just tell someone what I heard, of course – the only person of political consequence who would even listen to me is Khysmet, and I doubt he would take it seriously without some actual proof of wrongdoing. But I have no intention of letting this go.

So, I figure I better go get some actual proof.

The second I hear the bells toll eleven, I run up to ask Khysmet if he wants my company after his meetings today.

"Well," he says, looking a tad surprised to see me coming at him so animated, "I was thinking of spending my afternoon in the library, so yes."

"Would it be okay if I meet you there?" I ask. "I might be a little late, but I'll get there as soon as I can."

He cocks an eyebrow at me quizzically.

"Got some urgent matters to attend to, do you?"

I narrow my eyes defiantly. "You say that like I couldn't possibly, but believe it or not, I do."

His smile is that of someone indulging a child's fantasies, and I resist the urge to stomp my foot and pout so as not to complete the image.

"Very well then," he says. "See to your urgent matters and meet me in the library when you're done. I'll allow it this time."

"Oh I'm so eternally grateful to receive your permission, your grace," I say and curtsey deeply. "Please continue to shower me in your favor, I beseech you."

I've been getting more elaborate with my sarcasm over the weeks.

“Have fun,” he says, and pats me on the head.

I don't move to stop him anymore. No matter how hard I try, I always just end up embarrassing myself, so better to just let him do it.

I tell him I'll see him later and run off to start my inquisition.

******

I only have to talk to two attending servants to find out that black-with-white-stripes guy is a scribe named Rolf who works in the financial sector copying records for analysis and distribution. Triangulating the location of the desk they spoke of is going to be a bit trickier, though.

I reason it must be one of Sulfeng's desks, either in his office or his bedroom, because I can’t imagine he would put ill-gotten funds in a desk for public use lest it be discovered by accident. It's unlikely that it's in Rolf's desk if he didn't know how to open the false bottom in the drawer. I can't rule out the possibility, since he might have been given a desk by his superior or something, but I also don't think a superior would give him a fancy desk with an elaborate mechanism in the first place. So, it’s either in Sulfeng's office or his bedroom.

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Problem is, I have no idea where either of those are.

I need to be discreet about how I go about finding this information. The attending servants have exceptionally loose lips, and if anyone finds out I'm snooping around, it could easily get back to Sulfeng.

I start by asking where the financial offices are, figuring that's innocuous enough. Thankfully, today is Wednesday, the day of the week that Khysmet meets with the finance ministers. Plus, it's lunch time, meaning that most people will be out finding food. There's only one scribe eating at his desk when I walk in.

"Hello," I greet him brightly when I walk in. I figure it would look more suspicious if I don't.

"Oh… hello Miss Catarina," he says. "Is there something you need?"

I’m not surprised he knows who I am, but I wish he didn’t. It highlights the fact that my being an obviously different race from everyone else in the castle puts me at a disadvantage if I want to sneak around.

"I was just exploring the castle," I reply with as much nonchalance as I can. "Most of the time I stay away from this area, since it's usually full of people. I noticed it's pretty empty today, though."

I wander around the room, pretending to look around aimlessly. The scribe keeps an eye on me but doesn’t question my presence further.

It's fairly clear which desks belong to the ministers, since they're much bigger and on a raised platform, easily seen from the rest of the room. I hop onto the platform and immediately know the desk I'm looking for isn't here. Not a single one of these desks has a third drawer, just very large second ones. It has to be the one in Sulfeng's room. I thank the gods that I don't have to hang around feeling for hidden buttons in front of this scribe who's watching me intently as I try not to look like I'm snooping for anything specific. I hop down away from the ministers' desks and keep walking around the room like I’m really just interested in checking out the whole place.

When I start touching things on random scribes' desks, he all but begs me to leave, a request I'm happy to comply with, apologizing for bothering him on my way out.

Next, I find someone and ask who Sulfeng's attending servant is, saying I have something I just have to tell her and implying that it's extremely juicy gossip. I'm happy to find that it's someone I get along with, a young woman named Cevine. I'm over the moon when I'm told that she's in Sulfeng's room right now, and I get pointed in the exact right direction.

"Cevine!" I call out when I see her leaving a room with a cart of cleaning supplies.

"Oh hey, Cat," she greets me, cheery as can be. "What's up?"

"I was just looking for you," I say. "Are you busy cleaning Sulfeng's room? Should I come back later?"

"No, I just finished up."

I cheer ecstatically in my head, make a mental note of which door she just came out of, then offer to walk with her on her way back to put the cart away. I follow her around for about twenty minutes or so, telling her some tidbit of gossip I haven't spread around yet. I pray that she doesn't ask me why I wanted to tell it to her specifically. She doesn't. Once we're far away enough from Sulfeng's room and there's a suitable spot to end the conversation, I say goodbye to her and retrace my steps.

It's almost two by this point, so Khysmet's meeting with the ministers of finance are definitely over – or at least they will be soon. Sulfeng could very well be back in his room at this point. It's more likely he'll be in his office, though. I hope.

I knock on his door, loud enough that if he's inside he'll definitely hear it, then duck around the corner into a different hallway. After a couple minutes without the sound of an opening door or someone asking "who's there", I go back to his door, open it myself, and slip inside.

The layout of this room is more or less the same as my own, and the desk is plainly in view right upon entering the room. Guess what? Three drawers.

I walk over and kneel down to look under the desktop, feeling around for a button. And there it is, plain as day under my fingertips. A quick click, and there's the sound of something moving on one of the drawers. The third one, in fact.

I open it. There's the money, plain as day. Mission accomplished. I close the false bottom again, and move to make my exit.

Then it occurs to me that if the money is still there, Rolf hasn't come to pick it up. The second this thought flashes through my mind, I hear a knock on the door.

I look around the room frantically. Should I hide in the wardrobe? Or under the bed? I go for the bed, even though it's a bit further away – no creaky doors.

The bed is plenty high up off the floor – perfect for me to scuttle underneath it – and there's a skirt around the mattress that hides me from sight completely. By the time I hear the door open, all the fabric I moved on my way here has settled down.

"Did you press the button under the thing?" Rolf mutters to himself in a viciously mocking tone as he walks into the room. "Of course I didn't press the fucking button you cranky old lizard. Nobody told me about a fucking button. Nobody tells me shit."

I hear him jostling the desk, feeling around for the button and cursing more and more with each passing second that he can't find it. It takes a while. Eventually, though, I hear the little click, and he cheers in triumph.

There's the clinking sound of coins. I imagine he's counting it out to make sure it's all there.

Minutes tick by, and I get impatient very quickly. Isn't he with the finance sector? He should be faster at counting money than this.

Eventually though, he seems satisfied. He opens the door and walks out, his footsteps echoing down the hallway until the door closes all the way and I can't hear them anymore.

I peek out from under the bed just barely, trying to move the fabric as little as possible. I don't see any feet. Exhaling a tense sigh of relief, I come out from under the bed and all but sprint to the door.

I open it as quietly as I can and peer out into the hallway. I don't see Rolf, but I do see someone much worse.

Sulfeng himself is walking down toward me at the far end of the hall. He's a long way down, but he could easily see me if I were to come out of his room. I feel sweat bead on my forehead. Has he already noticed his own door opening?

I look more closely and notice that he's reading from something while he walks, presumably some sort of paperwork. He's not looking up. I'm not completely fucked yet, but I have to act fast.

I make a break for it, ducking around the nearby corner as fast as I can without making noise, letting the door close on its own behind me so that by the time it makes a sound, I won't be visible to Sulfeng.

I stay perfectly still and listen. The door closes. Footsteps are still approaching. They don't get faster or slower, which I take to be a good sign. I wonder if I should walk around the corner nonchalantly, hoping he sees me coming from somewhere other than his room and decides I couldn't have been in there. It would probably be better to save that tactic for in case I see someone come down the currently empty hallway that I'm in right now, though.

His footsteps are regular the whole way down. At the last second, it occurs to me that he might not even be going to his room, and I panic. It only lasts a moment though, as I immediately hear his door open and shut before I have the slightest chance to do something stupid.

Deep breaths. In. Out. Walk at a normal speed toward the library. I turn to an imaginary audience and bow.

We pulled it off, folks.