Chapter 16: Beneath Notice

Scene 72 (F/F, petting)

The three came together in the bordello’s garage, a discreet basement that had just one opening onto the street.

The plan they’d come up with was conceptually simple: sneak into the dungeon underneath Monique’s manor, steal Cynthia away, and deliver her safely home. But Zofia was no burglar. This plan really didn’t have a role for her. So...

“I’ll see you soon,” Valerie promised, lingering near the carriage. “You make sure Exetrer doesn’t do anything stupid while you’re waiting for us, all right?”

“Of course.” Zofia held one hand from each of them. “You two keep safe.”

“I can’t promise that,” Lizabet said. “Safety doesn’t get things done. But we’ll do our best.” That smile on her face, that twinkle in her eye. She was confident, but it was different from Sir Jorge’s brashness.

They could do this, Zofia told herself. They had a plan, and they had each other. This wasn’t goodbye. It wasn’t.

“Though...” Lizabet frowned suddenly. “There is one thing we’ve forgotten.”

“Hm?”

She pressed Zofia’s hand to her cleavage. “We’re not leaving until you touch me.”

While Zofia froze up, Valerie laughed. “She has this thing about leather gloves.”

Smoothness, though Zofia’s gloved fingers couldn’t perceive the extent of the texture. Warmth sank through the material. Softness.

This better not be goodbye, because Zofia dearly looked forward to learning more about that ‘thing’.

After one more squeeze, she took her hand back. “Good luck.” Even with their plans, they’d need it.

With that, they went their separate ways: Zofia to do her smaller part, and the rogues to do theirs.

Scene 73

Princess Monique’s mansion was the most opulent in the city. It stood atop the tallest hill in the gardens district, looking down on all others — even the wealth of other aristocrats was paltry by comparison. Its sprawling wings were like arms reaching out, ready to take even more.

That morning, it hosted one of Monique’s garden parties. Anyone with any prestige was invited, and none of them would notice another two servants.

Liz bustled forward along the garden’s intricate stone paths. Emphasis on bust: that black-and-white servant dress was cut so low, she was one deep breath away from indecency. Monique was famous for having beautiful servants, so if she wanted to blend in with them, she had to stand out.

Especially since she was blending for two. Val, trailing after her, wasn’t going to be very talkative.

Liz bowed forward to offer her tray to a seated guest. “Could I tempt you, milord?” Her smile was purposefully ambiguous.

The lord was dressed in vivid colours, the fashion paying tribute to the garden’s flowers and setting him visually apart from the ‘help’. “Oh so tempting.” His eyes were on her chest, not the tray, and certainly not her face. As he took a flute of wine, he leaned in close and spoke in a lower tone. “Any chance you’re on the menu?”

Liz tensed for half a second ... but his tone was a joking flirt. Though he enjoyed the cleavagey way Princess Monique dressed her servants, he had no idea what ‘menu’ the Queen might offer.

So she laughed, extra-brightly to cover the delay. “Sir, how scandalous!” She leaned in, conspiratorially close. “Now you’re the one tempting me ... though I’m afraid I’d get in trouble if I don’t keep the wine flowing.” She brushed her free hand across his shoulder as she passed by, leaving him shivering.

As they continued, she caught Val shooting her a Look with an eyebrow raised.

“What?” Liz gave her an innocent look right back. “Flirty maids get paid better. It’d be more suspicious if I didn’t.”

Val rolled her eyes and said nothing.

They continued gliding around the party, delivering their treats. As they passed near the bands — small string groups spaced around the gardens — Liz let her hips follow the rhythm. Dancing was practically reflex, and definitely helped her catch her share of the guests’ eyes.

Soon enough, their trays were empty. Her new fans watched them slip back to the kitchens, where they swapped empty trays for fresh...

And then walked straight past the hubbub of food preparation and found stairs that took them down, underneath the mansion. The Queen had had servant routes built into her most secret of dungeons; of course she’d have them in her own basement.

Unfortunately, that basement also had a guard at the door. He eyed the pair as they approached. “You’re going the wrong way.” He jerked his chin to indicate the stairs back up. “Go on, run along.”

“Sure!” Liz didn’t slow her step. “If you tell Her Highness why her ‘special guests’ are going hungry.”

His eyes immediately narrowed in suspicion, and he grabbed Liz’s shoulder. Damn. The appeal had been a calculated risk, but apparently her numbers were wrong. He opened his mouth—

Val jabbed him in the throat. While his alarm shout choked off, she clocked him twice in the jaw, and he went down.

Plan B needed them to speed things up. The pair rushed through the door.

Scene 74

Magistrate Exeter’s home was modest by magistrate standards. It wasn’t even a mansion, but a large house placed at the lowest elevation of the gardens district. It was nice, but didn’t make a show of itself.

Similarly, Zofia made no fanfare as she walked up the stairs to the door. Yet as people on the street and in the park recognised her, there was commotion all the same. She’d been missing for days, and now she unceremoniously turned up.

The maid who opened the door almost had a heart attack. “Your Highness!” She fumbled over herself to curtsey, then stepped aside to usher her forward. “I’m dreadfully sorry, we weren’t expecting anyone, let alone a visitor of your calibre!” She curtseyed again. “Please, please come in! Is there anything I can—”

Zofia held out a hand to forestall her third curtsey and get a word in edgewise. “Please relax. I’m here to speak with the magistrate.”

The princess was no use in a burglary, so this was her role in the plan: to assure Magistrate Exeter that his daughter would soon be safe at home ... and to protect him from any retaliation the Owls sent his way.

The maid winced and finished her curtsey. “I’m afraid he’s out this morning, Highness. You’re welcome to wait for him. Hosting you would be my honour!”

Zofia frowned. “Where is he?” Of all the timing.

The maid wrung her hands. “He’s gone to a party, Highness. He’ll be back before noon, but one doesn’t simply reject an invitation from—”

Her blood went cold. “My aunt.”

The maid blinked, looking up at her. “Why, yes, Highness. Of course you must be invited as well, so if you don’t want to wait—”

Exeter was at the garden party. So when the girl was rescued — when Monique lost her leverage on him — the man himself would be right there, in her house, surrounded by her guards.

Zofia spun on her heel and ran for the carriage.

Scene 75 (non-sexual violence)

Val led the way now, hurrying down halls and around corners. The mansion’s basement was much ‘nicer’ than the dungeon under the Library of Tisha: carpeted in black, with white and purple papering on the walls and simple crystal lamps.