Can you do a female thief getting captured by a ruthless male Prince who none of the citizens like? (possible flirtation?) The thief is normally really cocky but, the prince is cruelly stripping back layers to uncover the truth literally (the mask) and figuratively (her soul?)
“You know,” the prince said, “many would consider chopping off your hands to be the rightful punishment for thievery. You wouldn’t be able to take what doesn’t belong to you then.”
The thief’s stomach lurched.
The prince circled her slowly, stopping behind her back and leaning down to capture the tip of her glove and pull it away off her hand. First one, then the other. “Tell me, why do you take what doesn’t belong to you, thief?”
“Shouldn’t you know the answer to that, sire?” Contempt dripped from her tongue. “You take that what doesn’t belong to you all the time - it’s just in your case you dress it up fancy and call it tithes and taxes and Dulce et decorum est pro patria mori. You’re right. I should rob you off your hands.”
A smile flickered amused over the prince’s lips as he circled to stand in front of her again. “Ah, so you consider yourself a rebel, thief. A hero. A charming rogue, perhaps. You steal to help the poor and the downtrodden, redistributing the wealth of the rich to those who you consider more deserving of it. Is that it?”
She said nothing, watching him warily.
The prince reached out for her jacket next, shoving it down off her shoulders in a clink of stolen goods. His hand caressed along her skin, retreating with various purses of gold, a jewel, a necklace. The little thefts secreted away in the folds of her clothing.
He let them fall to the floor of the cell with a disgusting carelessness, as if they were no more precious than pennies on the street. “Of course,” he continued, “one would assume that you would steal bread instead of bracelets if that was the case. But we all need to lie to ourselves sometimes, don’t we?”
“Let’s not pretend you know anything about me.”
What did stolen bread really fix? It was one piece of bread, and one servant would inevitably be hurt for the stealing of it even if it wasn’t their fault. Some cook would get in trouble. No, wealth brought bread. Wealth brought power to change things. Wealth made you something that this arrogant prince and his like would bother listening to.
“Oh, I know everything about you,” the prince said. “You see, the items you steal require certain disguises to get close to, certain tricks, which reveal your skills and proclivities and turn. You’re obvious. The items you pick betray your heart.”
“I see no reason why pretty things should be locked up for you alone to enjoy their beauty,” she replied, keeping her tone as neutral and light as she could. “You don’t even use what you have, you just accumulate more of it. I can see why they call you the Dragon Prince.”
“I do consider myself quite the collector.” The prince reached out again, this time for her mask. “Although, I feel your judgment may be a little harsh. I get plenty of use and pleasure out of the treasures I keep. But you wouldn’t know anything about the pleasure of ownership, would you, thief?”
She jerked her head away from the touch, heart slamming.
His other hand shot out, seizing a tight fistful of her hair, holding her still.
“You’ve never owned anything in your life, have you?” he asked, softly almost. His eyes weren’t soft. They were as cold as the jewels he hoarded. “But you’ve wanted to and oh, how you despise yourself for the wanting. And why not, when they wouldn’t even notice what was gone? They have so much. You have nothing. The people you love have nothing. You are, in fact, nothing.”
Her insides squeezed. Nothing. “Go to hell.”
“Nothing is a very good thing for a thief to be,” he murmured. “It makes you hard to catch when there’s merely different masks for people to make grabs at.”
His hand rose again, and she could feel his finger on her cheek through the dark mask covering her face.
Her head twitched without much use.
He smiled. “Let’s see what you really are.” He pulled the mask away deftly, but didn’t toss it aside as he had his jewels. He didn’t look away from her face.
She swallowed hard, but jutted her chin up in defiance, glaring up at him.
“Hello, nothing,” he said, velvet-voiced and admiring. “Don’t worry your sensibilities - I know just what to do with you, you won’t be going to waste.”
She had to get out of there.
“You’re going to be just everything by the time we’re done here.”
vaporwave
amandla
s-u-f-j-a-n-s-t-e-v-e-n-s
blakekathryn
dailybridgerton
yousharknotpass
