The Thief and the Flower

by Mastermind4892

"Flower gleam and glow, let your power shine. Make the clock reverse, bring back what once was mine." Fortune-hunter and adventure-seeking Flynn Rider will show Rapunzel the joyous wonders and mysteries of the world, and how to be her own person. In turn, the Maiden of the Golden Flower will teach him the value of home, family and what lies in your heart. [Pseudo-Novelization]

3. A Thief with a Heart of Gold

A Thief with a Heart of Gold

"There's no more deeply moving religious experience than cheating a cheater."

- Bret Maverick

This was going to be his greatest trick yet.

Right after coming through the massive entrance doors to the mansion, Flynn strode through the extravagant reception hall filled with Weselton's most prominent, excited for whatever might await him while his inner hawk senses remained ever aware for any threats to his cover.

People milled about the halls, in small groups and parties, talking of home, business and politics. Flynn stood in the main hall approaching the ballroom; rich, red carpet, white paneled walls, gold and brass trim everywhere, a grand staircase to the upper levels, and he reflected on all that had brought him here.

Here he was, the greatest and most wanted thief in all the lands, about to gate-crash one of the nobility's most extravagant parties. He would be standing in a room filled with some of the most powerful people of the realm, people whose decisions shaped the future of entire nations, and yet they had no power over him. He was his own man, he lived his life how he wanted and no one could take that away from him. Just like a great ship hoisting up the sail, he could go wherever he wanted. Being able to live such a life where he could make his own choices in spite of monarchs and emperors while embarking upon the greatest adventures of the world was nothing short of exhilarating.

"Presenting the Duchess Sabine Valliere of Shona!" came a voice from past the doors atop the staircase.

Flynn shook his head to clear his thoughts. There would time to revel in his success later. For now, he had a special party to attend while playing the part of a noble from Glowerhaven. It shouldn't be too difficult. It was not as if he had to actually interact with anyone, just get close enough to lift a few valuables before moving to the next mark. If he absolutely had to speak with anyone, simply avoid discussing business and focus on small talk. Charm was one of his best skills after all.

He just hoped that they wouldn't sit at tables for dinner. He of course knew plenty well how to eat politely at a formal dinner, but he was years away from knowing the difference between the five different kinds of forks at any fancy dinner.

"Presenting his Highness Prince Charles Waldstein of Albion!"

Flynn was next in line. Coming right up behind the announcer, he unconsciously straightened his collar and lifted his chin high for the sake of appearances. But when he walked through the doors and beheld the sight of the ballroom, his composure went slack for a moment.

To say that the Duke was a wealthy and well-off man would be an insult. The entire square ballroom was about the size of a small shipyard. The ceiling was incredibly high; at least three stories up with ornately draped windows just as tall, but even from that distance Flynn could see the intricate shapes that had been sculpted into it, an immense tapestry of artwork, from sprawling floral patterns to tiny carvings of cherubs and the like. The whole thing seemed to be held up by immense pillars lining each side of the hall, massive columns more in line with Greek architecture than the rest of the room called for. Tiers of balconies reached out from the walls, allowing people on the second and third floors to mill about above those on the ground floor. The very entrance dais Flynn stood atop was erected one story above the ballroom floor, clearly intended to present ostentatiously new arrivals before the entire ensemble.

There were servants with trays overflowing with fruits and meats circulated. Beautiful dancers wearing alluring outfits with flowing hair and beaded ornaments danced to amused calls of the men surrounding them. From a balcony above, a small band played lively music; flutes and drums of some kind and those already well into the revelry were swaying with the music, if without much rhythm.

To show off more of the Duke's wealth, a number of affluent statuettes, vases, and even antique weapons with decorations and polish meant to counteract their timeworn surfaces were on display. Along the expansive walls were portraits of monarchs and noble family members mixed with expensive oil landscape paintings of beautiful sceneries. Hanging off the ceiling were several luxurious chandeliers of genuine crystal. In response to the approaching night, the candles were lit to supply light that caused the whole thing to glitter.

A fabulous waste of money!

"Ahem."

Flynn started for a moment, snapping out of his daze before turning to see the announcer looking expectantly at him. Understanding, the disguised thief immediately handed the man his invitation. The announcer briefly looked it over before doing a double-take at the name of Flynn's apparent nation. He gave a quick glance at the smiling new arrival before calling out to the ensemble once more.

"Presenting Count Mathis Gladstone of Glowerhaven!"

The reaction was no different than outside as a small wave of surprised murmurs swept through the assorted groups in the ballroom. Flynn mentally grinned as he seamlessly adjusted his posture and stance once again before giving a polite wave to everyone. To the ladies of the ensemble watching him, he made sure to meet the eyes of several and offered his most charming smile which caused more than a fair number of giggles and blushing, much to the bother of their husbands.

Flynn found that he couldn't help it. He enjoyed being 'Mathis Gladstone'— it felt liberating to play the role of a proud man who was set for life. There were certain parts of Mathis that he wanted to keep as souvenirs and keepsakes: his clothes for one, his respected position. His bearing.

As Flynn descended the stairs, he smiled as he realized that now for this one night, he was one of them.

You are a noble. Not a thief, oh no. Perish the thought. An equal. Here at the invitation of the Duke. You are one of the elite members of socie-OH! Is that a genuine Lucrenda Nayea?

Flynn's eyes did not deceive him as he spotted one of the famous Lucrenda's paintings. As an artist, she painted the most breathtaking landscape vistas and stunning portraits for royalty, which made her work highly sought after. The piece that Flynn was fighting not to drool at was worth enough to buy a small fleet of frigates with copper hull plating and white cotton sails! Such a piece would go a long way for Flynn to achieve his dream of a private island one day, if only the painting wasn't four times his height and therefore impossible to carry let alone out the front door without being noticed!

Shame.

Now that Flynn looked more carefully, his keen eye began to recognize more paintings and other valuable works of art, as well as their worth. His eyes went wide as he began to understand the true wealth of the Duke.

Wait a minute… is that… is that really one of Isaac Alde's sculptures?

The thief stared reverently at the masterfully carved piece, which was more valuable than ever since the artist had passed away last year. This sculpture alone could refurbish the entire lower district of Weselton six times over and still have more to spare! Then Flynn's eyes wandered to another nearby statue of similar design. The Duke has more than one? Could it be that…

Flynn's eyes swept over the entire ballroom, easily picking out every piece. Three… four… seven… twelve… nineteen! That's every piece Alde ever sculpted! The Duke has the entire set?!

He couldn't believe it! The Duke had Isaac Alde's entire collection on display in his ballroom to show off to the rest of the nobility. How in the world did the man manage to get every single piece? The cost for the whole set was astronomical, making his head spin. He could buy five private islands with that kind of money, and still be set for life! Even his grandchildren would have more money than they'd know what to do with!

Still, as Flynn looked closer at the one before him, something minute about the sculpture seemed off to his sharp eyes…

But any thoughts of his suddenly went out the window when the most wonderful of smells hit him and made his stomach rumble. Being naturally attracted to magnificent things, the thief immediately followed the scent to find a massive ironwood table that presented a banquet. An abundance of plates offering the most incredible food was laid out, cooked to perfection as a resplendent feast to serve the guests to their heart's content. He could barely take his eyes off the golden turkey… a turkey! Coated in gravy alongside salted mutton, buttered biscuits, cinnamon truffles, roasted pig with a ripe apple in its mouth, malt bread and… oh sweet lord! Cheese!

Flynn refused to lick his lips.

And even better, he took note of the many serving girls managing the food carefully, some tending to the dishes while others carried trays of appetizers and glasses of fine wine for catering requests from nobles. Cute girls and good food? He was a man, wasn't he? How could he turn away from such an opportunity?

He also still had a job to do, buuut… he glanced around at the nobles throughout the ballroom, a good number of them enjoying the food themselves. Well, it wasn't like they would be going anywhere anytime soon. Nobles loved their parties. Their valuables could wait and as a thief always on the move Flynn had never been presented with this much food before, let alone having being cooked so well! When he was still the little boy before becoming Flynn Rider, he would sometimes stand outside of lavish places, hearing the clinking of fancy silverware, smelling the expensive food. He wanted so badly to one day to eat as well as the rich. He and others were starving while those people were having the time of their lives. But tonight, he could eat like a king. And he was never one to let an opportunity slip away from him.

And with that Flynn took a plate and started eating happily for the next half-hour, doing his best to keep up the appearance of a well-mannered noble. The food was so divine; clearly no expense had been spared (though he made a clear point of avoiding the fine wine, most of it anyway. He would need his wits for tonight). As he sank his teeth into a juicy slice of rich turkey, he closed his eyes and savored the succulent taste. He had never eaten so well before. Ah, this was his best idea yet! Yet another perk he enjoyed of being Mathis Gladstone. I love my life.

And the company was just as delightful! He had put on his best smile for a nearby group of serving girls, who were eyeing him appreciatively and whispering back and forth behind their hands. Even a few of the dancers couldn't seem to take their eyes off of him. One of the serving girls managed to work up the courage to approach him when he got a spot of gravy on his chin, and the young woman tentatively stepped within the noble's personal space as she reached up to gently wipe his mouth with a silk napkin.

"Ah, my thanks mademoiselle," he responded with a winning smile that caused the poor girl to blush like her cheeks were made of ripe cherries. Like the incantation for a spell, the other girls saw that the attractive noble was more than welcoming of their presence and Flynn suddenly found himself surrounded.

"Lovely ladies," he greeted.

"Look," one of the women giggled. "It's that handsome lord! Oh, I wanted to see him up close!"

"Look at that strong chin!"

"Look at the long hair!"

"Feel his arms!" another girl gasped, her hands encircling his bicep.

They all giggled together and Flynn could not help but hold out his arms for them, offering all had a chance to see his build (one girl even being bold enough to grasp his backside).

"He's such a dreamboat! Oh, I'd love to set sail with him!"

Flynn gave a grateful nod. "Ah, my greatest gratitude is to each of you. A magnificent night of merriment indeed," he said in his high-class voice, giving another winsome smile. Whenever it came to women, his policy was 'love them and leave them always satisfied.'

They all giggled as he backed away and then noticed another cluster of ladies in desperate need of attention. Duty calls.

For the rest of the evening, each group Flynn came across was eager to fall for his charms. Several of the girls confessed that they'd been hoping to see him more than any of the other guests, and even more stated their names and where they worked, no doubt eager for him to pay a visit later on. Flynn looked over the ballroom, and felt his pride inflate a little as he saw that none of the other men were having as much good luck with the ladies as he was.

Then he noticed something else. He spotted another one of the dancers with a very female shape standing a short distance away from the food table. Her shoulder length brown hair framed an elegantly sculpted face and her ensemble was far more distinctive than the other dancers and clearly of superior quality and design. The emerald dress did nothing to hide her full curves, doing far more to accentuate her figure rather than cover it up. In fact, the manner in which it hugged her slender figure was borderline scandalous at such an upper-class event, yet still somehow maintained a dignified sense of taste. The green fabric curled around and clung to her bountiful bosom, the neckline exposing her collarbone to the warm ballroom air. Fastened around her neck was a black choker, a radiant green emerald stone set just above the hollow of her throat. More of the green fabric, shimmering with subtle shades of red and blue like a hummingbird's wing, wrapped itself tightly around her perfect hips, loosening a bit as it worked its way past her knees to halt just a few inches shy of her ankles.

But as enticing as her frame was, there was also a graceful subtlety about her movements that spoke of a strong sense of self and intelligence. A demure glance from her eyes enraptured the attention of many a nobleman, and even the gaze of a few women. Ah, a woman with a measure of wit. Unexpected, but far from unwelcome.

Flynn smiled at the thought of how he might catch her attention for the rest of the evening. But right before he could even take two steps in her direction, his sharp eyes noticed something entirely different about her.

For one thing, her makeup couldn't hide the tired lines beneath her blue eyes from Flynn's sharp observations. The woman had not been sleeping well, and her eyes had no twinkle of life or energy in them. In fact, her eyes almost looked numb. Flynn suddenly went quiet as it was a look he knew all too well from someone who had nowhere to go, something he saw in the eyes of the other children back in Strihaven when the orphanage was still failing. They were the eyes of someone who had nothing left.

Then his inner hawk saw else something about her; picking out the set of her shoulders, the shift of her feet, a telltale blink. Aside from her attractive figure, something else about her was different from the other dancers and the guests. Her movements, her posture… she moved with a different sense of purpose instead of enjoying the festivities or entertaining the guests. As Flynn watched, he saw the woman stick to the sidelines and seem to avoid all eyes as she tiptoed around everyone. It was almost too obvious to his experienced eye that she was trying to escape notice. The hawk in his mind didn't seem to warn him about any hidden weapons or subtle movements that suggested hostile intentions, so he doubted that she was a threat of any sort.

Any speculation of Flynn's suddenly vanished when he saw the woman inch closer to the food table and then discreetly slip several pieces of the gold flatware up her sleeve.

His eyebrows went up in surprise. Well, it seemed he wasn't the only thief present.

"Excuse me," Flynn politely addressed a cute redheaded waitress.

"Yes, what can I…" The waitress trailed off and blinked owlishly when she realized she had been approached by the handsome lord from Glowerhaven all the other girls couldn't stop talking about. "Milord! Um, how may I help you? Is there anything I can help you with? Anything?"

Flynn pointed back to the dancer. "You wouldn't happen to know who that young woman is, would you?"

The waitress followed his gesture, and tried her best to hide her disappointment when she saw the object of the man's interest. "Yes, that would be Opal. She's been working here a lot longer than any of us."

As Flynn listened, he learned much about the attractive dancer aptly named Opal. Most of the dancers and serving girls were only recently hired to help with the Duke's party of the decade as on-call and would be finished here once it was over. Opal however was a permanent member of the Duke's staff, apparently having been handpicked by the man himself. Furthermore, it seemed her three sizes were a much sought after secret by the male staff. Sadly, since the waitress had only been brought about a week beforehand, she didn't know much more about Opal other than that the slender dancer mostly kept to herself and whatever rumors the staff came up with.

But judging by her sticky fingers, Flynn could guess that the woman wasn't satisfied with whatever the Duke was paying her, especially if her despondent eyes told him anything.

He was still very tempted to sweet-talk her, but any advances from him would draw attention to her as well as stall her efforts. Far be it for him to get a beautiful woman in trouble, so he decided to leave her be. After all, treasure didn't just fly into his pockets whenever he wished, although that would be the best thing ever. So he had to work well to earn his spoils.

Indeed, he had filled his belly and entertained himself with the ladies. Now it was time to go to work.

He had spotted his first mark already…

~o~O~o~

It was a rather lively night in Weselton. Even for the many who could not attend, the lights and sounds of the Duke's party could be seen for miles away. There was not a single person in all the city who did not dream of what delights could be found inside the festive celebration held by the highest nobility. Wealth, beautiful women in the latest fashions, laughing, drinking Corona wine and not having any worries. Living in opulence when many others starved and considered themselves fortunate to find a few scraps for dinner.

But now something new had arrived in the city, as a magnificent ship sailed into port.

Triple masted with white sails, double decks and fifty bronze cannons with maroon hull plating and white paint across the top deck's armor plating. It was a man-o-war armed to the teeth and crewed by the finest sailors and most disciplined soldiers of the kingdom it hailed from, resolved to protect the valuable cargo and the distinguished passenger it carried.

Most of the city's visitors were powerful merchants and nobles from the surrounding countryside selling their produce, or merchants travelling in caravans to hawk their wares, especially in recent times as anticipation of the Duke's ball. Richly-clad courtiers and harried messengers sailed to and from the city at regular intervals, due to the major political and economic influence the Duke carried. But this group of new arrivals was different. For a start, the Weselton guards at the docks didn't bother stopping them as they disembarked from their ship, instead hurriedly getting out of their way.

Moments later, a lavish carriage arrived to transport the new arrival. The guards from the ship stood in two straight parallel rows facing each other, lining up in picture-perfect formation. Seconds later, the door from the ship opened once more and out into the open stepped a man that carried great authority with every step he took. A noble white cloak draped down from his shoulders to his ankles, accenting the bushy silver and red beard and eyebrows of his face.

As he strode through the line of his bodyguards and reached the carriage, he lifted one foot inside before he stopped and turned. Even from all the way down at the docks, the opulent mansion could be espied. The visitor's eyes narrowed to slits at the sight. For once, he had no interest in such festivities, rather than his issue with one very specific man inside.

"After all this time, you thought yourself so clever, didn't you?" he muttered under his breath. "Not if I have anything to say about it."

With that, he stepped into the carriage and slammed the door shut.

"To the Duke's mansion, and make all due haste," he ordered. The carriage horses soon took off at a steady trot while the line of bodyguards had climbed atop their own horses to follow as the visitor's escort.

The group was cantering at an even pace towards the mansion, and even from a distance one could see that all of them were experienced riders, moving in a practiced battle formation that denoted wariness. They all wore concealing hoods and travelling cloaks, but a sharp eye could distinctly see the sharp rapiers and arming swords hanging at their sides.

A visitor of great authority and importance escorted by over two dozen men, all experienced riders with battle-trained chargers, and armed to the teeth arriving in complete secrecy.

Many would believe that this did not bode well at all.

~o~O~o~

Flynn realized he had made a terrible mistake.

Well, mistake was perhaps too strong a word. He didn't mind dressing up as Count Mathis of Glowerhaven – quite the contrary, in fact, since it got him past security and he could do as he wished – but he soon grasped that he had overlooked a painful gap in his planning. In order to keep up the guise of a noble, he had to actually mingle with them and listen to all their inane chatter and their terrible conception of wit.

"… and that's when Cormac yelled 'milord, that's not how you eat black pudding!'" With practiced timing, Flynn laughed along with the rest of the group as though in on the joke. Kill me now.

"How scandalous! You are awful, baron!" laughed a duchess. "Oh, life is so dull! I would die without gossip."

"Well, there's no shortage of it around here," said another noblewoman, who was wearing far too much makeup. "This is indeed one of the finest parties I've ever been to. Although the help is much to be desired, not that it's any surprise."

Flynn was more than capable of keeping up a good poker face, but he still bit down on the inside of his cheek at the snide tone of disgust in her tone. "Oh? And what might make you say that?"

"That little attendant that presented us to everyone as we arrived? He got my exalted name wrong. It's Lady Irene Penelope Annabelle Satine Samson Cortess! He missed my second middle name! He embarrassed me in front of my peers! Such incompetence and disrespect is absolutely unacceptable! I doubt I shall ever recover from such a slight!"

Flynn stared. It took all his will power to not react to the resentment over something so petty that only a member of the upper class could have. Nobles and their titles.

On the outside, he smiled and gestured with his hand to draw her attention. "Come now! Let's not insult our host, who might I remind you has obviously spent a fortune to set all this up just for us tonight." Yeah, a fortune provided by the hard labors of the people of Weselton without any gratitude or remorse…

Still, this seemed to placate the noblewoman as she reluctantly nodded in agreement while Flynn moved on past her.

It wouldn't be until Lady Irene prepared herself for bed later that night that she would notice her gold earrings were now missing.

It was like that with most of the other nobles. They stood together in their little cliques, laughing and chatting, helping themselves to the food that the servants provided without even thanking them, without even looking at them. As if they were furniture, a part of the scenery. Occasionally, one of them would call out an order for some foodstuff or another jug of drink, and they would be promptly obeyed by one of the many maids and kitchen hands standing there in silent attendance. The nobility always schemed and traded coin as easily as their loyalty beneath tables of exotic wood while the bodies of the poor filled the streets. They talked about the latest prisoner from the depths of the prisons, scarred and starved and then took bets on how far his head will roll. People starved in the gutters of Weselton, crying and begging for scraps, while these people laughed and drank the night away to lively music.

They talked of politics and discussed how they would handle the apparent increase in pirate activity if they were there, and how to win. Flynn tried not to roll his eyes. Upper-class people removed from the outside world and living in their ivory tower, who knew nothing of hardship and adversity, offering strategies that would "surely" fix everything. Yeah, right. Few things made Flynn truly angry, but he despised it when people who knew nothing of what they spoke tried to give advice, thinking they knew better.

The way the nobles talked made Flynn's skin crawl as he remembered the hard times that the orphanage and other people on the streets went through. For once, Flynn cursed his sharp hearing. That arrogant expectation that they would be obeyed, no matter how rude they sounded or how dismissive they were. The arrogance of nobility, thinking themselves higher and more important than any 'commoner'.

As good as his act was, he had to watch his step around these people. He had already attracted a little unwanted attention from one group of nobles from Albion when he had actually said 'thank you' to one of the servants. Apparently, complimenting someone of lower birth was 'improper'.

And they call me self-centered and greedy? People like this take the whole wedding cake, and probably even put a fancy 'Do Not Touch' sign on it!

Seriously, these were the people that the Duke associated with all the time? I hate this guy. I don't even know him and I hate him.

Flynn could easily picture the Duke of Weselton, probably some hulking eight-foot tall giant of a man that was covered in muscle with a rock-solid square jaw that never smiled, unyielding as a stone wall and as cold-blooded as a great white shark. Or perhaps he sat down in his fancy chair before the fireplace while wrapped in an expensive silk robe, chuckling gleefully to himself while he was smoking his pipe, swirling a glass of scotch, petting a white fluffy cat, and wondering what kind of orphan's tears tasted the best (Answer: The ones who saw their parents die).

Oh, it was certainly time for them to realize that they could not live so large and leave so little for the people. The Duke and his guests were certainly going to pay for it, right out of their own pockets. And with that, Flynn got back to work.

~o~O~o~

Throughout his years as a master thief, Flynn had learned in his earliest days that pickpocketing was all a game of focus, usually keeping the mark's attention on something else through subtlety and misdirection. Attention was like a spotlight. While everyone focuses on the spotlight, they never pay attention to what happens outside it. The average human brain was slow and could not multitask. The key was to perceive what they think they're seeing; spontaneous human behavior was surprisingly predictable.

If I look at my hand while I already have their attention, it naturally pulls their gaze and allows me to enter their personal space.

"Excuse me, did you drop this?" And the person would look at it and not notice him lifting their purse.

When I look up at them, it causes them to look directly at me and thus away from their valuables.

He twirled a countess by the hand in a dance while slipping off her diamond rings.

I tap them over there while I steal from here.

"Whoa, step lightly there!" he helped a man from skidding on wine (that Flynn spilled) while he slipped off his ruby cufflinks.

Capture their focus how you want it, you can take whatever you want.

Everything he took was discreetly slipped into the spacious inside-pockets he had sewn by the tailors into his outfit. He couldn't wait to put the latest additions to his wealth to good use! Whoever said that money doesn't buy happiness clearly didn't know where to shop.

"This is not the vintage I asked for, you half-wit hobknocker!"

Flynn froze as that last word registered. No. No, it couldn't be them.

He turned in the direction of the raised voice, and his eyes went wide. It was them. The twin noblemen from the other day that had beaten a poor homeless man and then had him arrested for no reason other than stepping in their personal space. What was happening seemed to be a mirror for that day as well, for the twins were once again yelling viciously at someone of a lower station.

"What is the meaning of this?!" one of them demanded furiously. "This is the wrong wine! The wrong stock! Worse yet, it's been spoiled! Spoiled!"

He threw the glass at the servant's head, hitting him between the eyes.

"Honestly, how stupid can you be? You got it from an open bottle, didn't you? One you probably left sitting on the counter like an idiot!"

"I-I'm sorry, sirs!" the servant said, near to the edge of tears. "It was a simple mistake! It won't happen again!"

The other twin stepped, glaring down at the man. "No, it will not. Your so-called 'service' to your betters is abominable! You can bet that we'll be having a word with the Duke about your future here."

The poor servant's face went two shades whiter in horror. He raised his hands as he apologized and pleaded profusely. The twins only backed away from his raised hands as if repulsed by a diseased animal.

"Don't lay your filthy hands on our person! Get out! Get out of our sight before we call the guards!"

As the servant took to the offered opportunity to escape their attention, the first twin scoffed.

"It's so hard to find competent service these days! Commoners are just so plain and dull."

"Most right! Seriously, I doubt they can even tell themselves apart."

Flynn had to fight back his shock at the scene. He had seen plenty of nobles turn their chin up and look down on commoners, but to lash out at them like that? He had never seen anything like that before.

"Disgraceful," muttered one of the nobles that Flynn had been pretending to chat with moments ago, before he would swipe his purse. At least, he was about to before the twins had loudly drawn attention.

Putting aside his mild surprise that some of the other nobles actually didn't approve, Flynn turned back to the man. "Oh yes, absolutely despicable. Say, do you know who those men are? Where do they hail from?"

A noblewoman raised an eyebrow. "You don't know? I thought everyone in the Alliance would know them. That is Prince Rudi and Prince Runo of the Southern Isles."

Flynn's eyes went wide. Those two men were royalty?! Then again, he supposed it made sense. In his travels, he had heard a lot of stories about the royal family of the Southern Isles and its overabundance of male heirs. Over the past few years the Southern Isles had taken a noticeable dip in its fortunes and resources as they were rapidly frittered away by the incompetent, vain, and prodigal brothers on petty yet exorbitantly expensive personal luxuries. Seeing the two twins, Flynn had no trouble now believing those stories.

Still, he had to keep up the act of a well-mannered noble. "I take it you share my dislike of them as well?"

The rest of the group practically snorted. "Those rantipoles are a stain and an embarrassment to noble titles everywhere. Why the sovereign of the Southern Isles, their own father, refuses to reign them in and discipline them is beyond me. I assume their unbecoming behavior is why Glowerhaven and the rest of the Alliance cut ties with them?"

Flynn was forced to remind himself that most nobles still had some standards. Regardless, he had to think fast. He honestly had no idea about the specific details about the Alliance having ended relations, but it wasn't hard to figure out why.

"Do you really have to ask?" he answered, pointing his thumb at the twins over his shoulder.

His sharp hearing could easily pick out the twins talking with one another complaining about the sad, low-born commoners, and how they should have a separate water supply since they would make the main water 'impure' if they were to drink from it. They talked about how the peasants ought to bang two sticks together continuously wherever they walked so that the 'proper citizens' could hear them coming and thus avoid a peasant's shadow. He even heard the twins discussing that a law should be passed so that the commoners would have a broom tied to the back of their waist to trail behind them and sweep away their filthy footsteps.

Flynn was stunned at such a level of prejudice. So, they're cruel, elitist bulldogs. My least favorite kind of bulldog…

All the while, a deep anger built inside him and he had to remind himself not to let it show on his face, nor squeeze the delicate wine glass in his hand too tightly. As Flynn Rider, he was a man who lived not only for adventure and fortune, but also for freedom. And he had long since learned that freedom was a right for all.

Never forget the people around you. Be the best that you can be and all shall look up to you. Lend a hand to those around you, and they will carry you to greatness even as you carry them to greatness, and you will learn from them even as they learn from you.

Flynn mentally nodded as he remembered his idol's words. He had to do something about those two and find some way to put them in their place. Or at least humiliate them to death. He quickly looked them over with his sharp, searching for something, anything, that could present an opportunity to… wait.

His inner hawk chirruped as he felt his eyes drawn to an ornate box in the princes' company. He didn't know what it was, but his instincts were telling him that whatever was in that box would help. Well then, shouldn't be too hard. It's only being held by… uh, whoa.

It was then he suddenly noticed just who was holding the box. Despite Flynn's honed senses, it was still little wonder that the abhorrent behavior of the twins had distracted him from spotting their accomplice. A large, tall brute of a man who was clearly acting as a bodyguard for the Southern Isle princes. His face had a dark ebon beard and a head of short-cropped hair to match. His entire frame was rippling with muscle, making his seven-foot height even more imposing and quite menacing. His leather armor glistened in the light of the ballroom, his muscles flexing in a show of force. Intimidation, always a favored stance with bodyguards regardless of where or who they met. This man was bad news, whoever he was.

And the giant broadsword hanging from his back certainly sent a clear message in the intimidation department. Good gods! That thing was the most tremendous blade he had ever seen, almost as wide as the giant man's head and very nearly ran the length from his shoulder to the floor. Despite its impractical size, Flynn shuddered at the thought of being on the receiving end of such a weapon.

However, it was the man's eyes that drew his attention most of all. They were the eyes of a predator, cold and ruthless as the metal of his sword. His inner hawk made him feel wary about those eyes, eyes of hardened steel that were looking right at him.

Alarmed, Flynn quickly turned his head away from the heavily armed man's heated glare. He's looking at me he's looking at me he's looking at me he's looking at me!

No, don't panic. You are a noble of Glowerhaven, of the Alliance, here at the invitation of the Duke.

"And who is that, um, rhinoceros disguised as a man?" he tentatively asked.

"That oversized brute of theirs is probably the infamous Roksar, a thug from Vorhaven but apparently, the best fighter of the Southern Isles. Word has it that he entered the Alliance's Tournament of Champions several years ago and got as far as second place."

"He got as far as second place?" repeated another noble. "Impressive."

Flynn was inclined to agree. The renowned Tournament of Champions that was held by the Alliance every few years attracted the best fighters from across the realm. Knights, soldiers, instructors, and wanderers from far and wide would come to compete for the grand prize of riches and glory. To come as far as second place was both impressive and concerning about the aptly named Roksar's skill. He would be a lot of trouble to get past.

"I wouldn't call it as impressive as you might think."

"Really? Why?"

"During the final match, he didn't fight nearly as well as he usually did during the tournament. He was slow, sluggish and could barely stand on his own two feet. The man was thoroughly beaten by the reigning champion, Lord Richard Avitas of Seahaven, in front of the entire realm. Of course, if you were to listen to Roksar's side of the story, his personal water canteen had been drugged by the Lord Avitas as an act of sabotage. Then again, I heard that Lord Avitas was recently disgraced and arrested by King Eric as a liar, cheat and a traitor to his kingdom, so that claim might have actually been plausible."

"I've known the Avitas family for years!" proclaimed a count. "Richard must have truly been the most cunning of fiends to have evaded my notice! Nothing gets by under my nose!"

Flynn was quite amused by his claim. "Oh really?"

"Absolutely! Nothing escapes my eyes!" the count boasted. "I can spot a scoundrel pretending to be someone he's not in my midst just like that." He emphasized his point with a snap of his fingers.

Considering the famous outlaw who was standing just three feet in front of him, Flynn Rider obviously wasn't impressed.

"Regardless," the other noble continued. "The entire royal family of the Southern Isles believed Roksar's story about sabotage all too well back then, and believed that the entire thing was some 'Alliance conspiracy'. Apparently, they didn't keep quiet about their allegations."

Flynn stared. The Southern Isles had started shouting wild accusations at a coalition of no less than four kings? No wonder the Alliance put their foot down. He wondered why the nobles and royals here were so interested in punishing others. That couldn't possibly be a healthy state of mind. But seriously, what kind of idiocy possessed the Southern Isles family to do something so daft?

He glanced back at the twins, and then realized that the question was self-explanatory. Yep. Well, at least that explained why Roksar had been glaring at him (and was still glaring) so intently, considering that the colors of 'Count Mathis Gladstone' that Flynn was wearing represented a member of the Alliance.

"Are you certain that Lord Avitas was actually a traitor?" asked the other noble.

"Apparently, the man disappeared several hours after the charges were brought forward. If he really was innocent, he wouldn't have any reason to flee. Besides, after a careful search of his estate, the evidence they found there was overwhelming."

"Hmm… that's most interesting. Just when I thought no more outlandish claims and surprises would be coming out of Seahaven."

Flynn couldn't help but shake his head as he watched the two go back and forth. One would say gossip is their lifeblood, he smiled to himself as he took another sip from his glass.

"What was the latest one?" asked the other noble. "Some giant sea monster attacking the Seahaven harbor while being led by a ragamuffin band of pirates, only to be defeated by some woman with a flaming sword? Preposterous!"

Flynn's eyes bulged when the words registered, and suddenly choked on his wine.

"Are you alright, Mathis?"

Flynn pounded his chest and cleared his throat, then wiped his mouth with a handkerchief as he answered. "Eh-hem! Sorry, just went down the wrong end. But yes, you never know what stories you might hear."

In truth, he knew exactly who the 'woman with the flaming sword' was. She was the reason why he had left Seahaven! He had just been walking down the street when his hawk instincts drew to him to a passing scantly-clad woman with dark brown hair and golden eyes. He wasted no time slipping a very fancy red pendant off her neck without her even noticing, literally right out from under her nose, and what a unique piece of jewelry it was! When he had looked more closely at it, the red marble at the center seemed to be holding a tiny little flame inside. A burning, living flame inside a piece of jewelry! To this day, he still wasn't sure how it had been done. Perhaps a few drops of lamp oil were inside, placed by a skilled jeweler that kept it from burning out somehow? Regardless, it was certainly one of the most fascinating prizes he had ever found, and within seconds he had already decided he ought to keep it for himself. It was clearly one of a kind, and simply selling it kind of offended him just on principle.

Flynn simply could not describe how good it felt to have such a unique prize at that time, because it didn't last long.

Although he easily managed to lift the pendant literally from right under her nose without notice, the woman had been surprisingly quick to realize that it was missing and promptly gave chase. Seriously, who could have possibly thought that someone would take issue with his taking such a special piece of jewelry? To Flynn's shock, she proved to be even faster than him and tackled him to the ground moments later, pinning him down with the freakish strength of an elephant. She was not pleased with him, and she made such displeasure crystal clear after she took back her pendant and then pointed a sword at his face and somehow lit it on fire. She had almost damaged his handsome face, and what a tragedy that would be! Worst of all, even his secret weapon had failed to work on a woman for the first time in his life!

Still, he talked fast, managed to confuse her into lowering her guard and was able to slip away like a cat. Regardless, that was one woman he hoped to never see again.

A short while later, he stopped at the best tavern in Seahaven, the Mermaid's Trove, to have a drink and to prepare for his next heist. He had heard that Queen Ariel had an incredible collection of perfect pale pink pearls, heh, try saying that five times fast, which was the rarest and most valuable kind of pearls in the region. How the redheaded queen could have possibly acquired so many flawlessly rounded pearls of such a rare hue and color was a great mystery to him, but they would still be worth quite a fortune. And then Flynn overheard from the bartender talking rather excitedly with a few patrons about a woman (which matched a perfect description of the one who had tackled him earlier) that had been the one to knock the scoundrel Lord Richard Avitas from his pedestal, became the newest victor in the Alliance's Tournament of Champions and was now a bodyguard for the royal family in the palace. The same palace Flynn had intended to sneak into and make off with the pink pearls?

Nope. Nun-uh. No way. End of story, goodbye, the end!

He booked the first ship out of Seahaven half an hour later, and now he was here in Weselton.

And now he was hearing that the woman apparently defeated an entire crew of pirates and a hulking sea monster? He wasn't sure about if there had been an actual sea monster since sailors always loved to tell tall tales. And yet, after his encounter with that crazy woman, he found that he could believe her to be capable of such feats.

"Those are just silly rumors," continued the other noble, drawing Flynn's attention from his own musing. "And even those are nowhere near strange as those about Arendelle."

"Nothing is as strange as Arendelle these days."

"Well, who knows what the royal family over there is thinking anymore?"

Flynn's features slightly sagged with relief at finally having a more pleasant topic this evening, however brief.

Arendelle, the 'Jewel of the North', as many called it. A magnificent and welcoming kingdom. It was a wonderful place to live, with great and tempered weather. Crime was almost nonexistent, there was never any trouble from the nobility and it had a most incredible supply of trade for other kingdoms along with a booming economy.

Being high up in the north, ice harvesting always had been a viable trade, especially during the summer months. As kingdoms and countries sprung up and grew, there was always a need for ice to keep food preserved or to make fancy desserts for nobles or the wealthy. And the northern land had its own share of nobles that desired frozen desserts and delicacies. Contrary to what many might think, ice harvesting was a most essential as well as lucrative business, since it was the only way to keep food cold and properly refrigerated. Deserts such as ice cream were very expensive due to this, making the ice trade even more profitable. Combined with how a considerable amount of the surrounding mountains remained covered in healthy and clean ice and snow no matter what time of the year, Arendelle became both the largest and most reliable supplier of ice to all other kingdoms in all the lands. Arendelle, however, thanks to its blessings of warm breezes from the sea, had much higher demand than the rest of the lands, which tripled the demand of ice and therefore guaranteed to always keep the icemen both busy and well paid.

Arendelle had always been a tempting target for trade merchants. Resting in one of the mountain fjords of the North, it always seemed to be a land set apart from all the rest. The sea about it always teemed with a magnificent bounty. Rich catches of fish, excellent whaling, and calm waters with good winds that gave trade routes safe and quick access to all other lands and kingdoms. Being one of the only few warm areas in the cold regions of the north, countless breeds of sea creatures migrated up to the Arendelle waters from all across the vast oceans, making it a prime fishing region for different sea creatures from across the world in one spot.

It was always sunny and warm during the summer, ever so much more than the rest of the coast, for the sea seemed to constantly bring healthy tropical breezes to cover it, allowing the timber in the country to grow tall and strong and constantly keeping the frosty, ice-covered mountains that surrounded it at bay. The sun seemed warmer longer, and even the mild winters were so gentle from the standpoint of a Northerner that it was considered mild and pleasant, and ships could freely come and go even then.

The indigenous residents proved to be a gentle folk. Arendelle secured its freedom as a sovereign nation along with all the other various isles and city-states. And among them all, due to the gifts of tropical warmth, the sea and fresh mountain ice, it prospered far above all others. Truly, the "Jewel of the North", which all flocked to see. The monarchy that had reigned there for centuries attributed it to divine blessings. The people attributed it to good fortune. The scholars and natural philosophers claimed it was due to good breezes that warmed the southern lands making their way all the way to the North and that one little spot of land nestled neatly in the fjord.

But the only thing that exceeded Arendelle's blessings was its mystery.

One morning twelve years ago, King Adgar and Queen Iduna suddenly sealed their palace shut. Its doors had closed to all visitors, both foreign and domestic, and most of the palace personnel had been dismissed that very day. Only the most senior and essential staff members remained.

Still, despite the unexplained termination of their employment, each of the dismissed staff members received a rather generous severance of no less than one thousand gold coins along with a letter of recommendation signed by the king himself.

The charitable gifts to the discharged notwithstanding, the palace gates had been locked tightly without warning or explanation and had remained that way ever since. Couriers delivered messages and proclamations to and from the king and queen as was appropriate, but no one entered the palace anymore. Few were ever seen to leave, and the king and queen only rarely ventured outside the castle walls for the most vital and indispensable reasons before hastily retreating back within the closed gates. Not even their cherished daughters, Princess Elsa and Princess Anna, had ever been seen in all those years.

The mystery only grew stranger in recent times. Just over two years ago, the beloved King Adgar and Queen Iduna of Arendelle were lost at sea during a terrible storm. The entire kingdom grieved and mourned at the loss of such kind and respected monarchs, and no effort or expense was spared for their funeral service even though there were no bodies to be buried to rest. And yet, the gates still remained locked as if nothing had changed, and once again no explanation was ever given.

Many kingdoms had been left perplexed and confused to no end. Trade and tourism had continued to and from Arendelle without a hitch, but the distinctive lack of any correspondence from the palace outside of anything relating to strictly professional business still baffled everyone near and far.

Naturally, wild rumors abounded to fill the vacuum left by the mystery of the Jewel of the North and spread like a blaze of wildfire through dry grass. Was Arendelle plotting something behind closed doors? Or perhaps it had discovered some great treasure or powerful resource that the royal family wanted for themselves? The gossip ranged from simple logic to dubious conspiracy theories to the outlandish.

Throughout his travels, Flynn had heard no end of the stories about Arendelle. He never particularly cared for whatever internal customs or machinations that royalty practiced, but something about Arendelle's outright silence felt off even to him. Whenever he thought about it, his hawk instincts always seemed to focus on one specific detail. It wasn't strange if a king or queen would rarely leave their castle for whatever reasons, while in the meantime their heirs would attend to state business in their stead as they learned the trade of running a kingdom. But why was it the other way around for Arendelle?

Why was it that the king and queen were sometimes seen outside the castle, but never their daughters?

Flynn soon gave a mental shrug.

It didn't really matter right now, he still had a few more things to take care of before he took his leave from the party. Nevertheless, Flynn Rider had every intention of visiting the Jewel of the North sometime soon. And why not? Who knew what treasures lay inside the palace of Arendelle? Something potentially never before seen by the outside world? Even if not, the idea of sneaking into that palace, to be the first to set foot within the castle halls that had not seen visitors in over a decade, was too tantalizing to pass up. To see with his eyes what no one else had seen. To search for whatever great secret was kept from the rest of the world, to dive into a mystery that has baffled kings and emperors? Such a daring idea and challenge made his mouth water.

He shook his head, there would be time for that later. For now, he was still at the Weselton party and the gates Arendelle would be sure to stay closed for quite a while longer. Without drawing attention to himself, he subtly checked over all his many hidden pockets, weighing them with an experienced hand. He grinned as he estimated that he was carrying several fortunes in purses of gold, rings, earrings, necklaces and all kinds of fine jewelry. Most of the nobles' possessions were each worth more than several houses. He also made a mental note to see if he could return to the seamstress and offer her a bonus (in more ways than one) for being able to sew hidden pockets that could carry so much loot without making any noticeable bulges in his outfit. He should probably even order a few casual outfits with such pockets for any future ventures of his!

Flynn felt relieved at the thought of being able to leave soon. As much as he enjoyed the food and the company of the fine ladies, he couldn't stand the nobility here much more. All he had left to do now was figure out a way to slip that fancy Southern Isles box away from that elephant of a bodyguard and—

Flynn's thoughts were interrupted as a brass bell rang clear across the massive ballroom. The music and idle chatter of the room got noticeably quieter, all attention going to the presenter from before as he swung the bell in his hand. The man straightened his collar as he now stood before two grand doors.

"Your attention, milords! Thank you. We hope you have enjoyed yourselves thus far, but now it is my distinct pleasure to introduce… your host!"

Flynn's eyes widened. Such an introduction could only mean one thing. It was him.

~o~O~o~

The Duke of Weselton, a man who was as arrogant as he was rich. In other words, very, very rich. Since he had first heard about the Duke's party, Flynn carefully listened to everything he could find out about the man. Apparently, the Duke had originally come from a very minor noble family before marrying the heiress of a much more wealthy and influential family. But after a simple two years, the heiress suddenly died and through some very shrewd negotiating, everything the family owned went to the soon-to-be Duke. And that was only the first time he had become a widower. Flynn didn't have to be experienced in the cutthroat politics of nobility to be quite suspicious of how the Duke had married a total of three times within the span of ten years, only for the wives to strangely pass away and all their wealth and accolades went to him.

The man wasted no time in putting his wealth to good use with clever investments and efficient policies for himself. He quickly became the titan of the Weselton economic and industry by cornering the market with all kinds of his own smart (and merciless) business practices such as edging out competition and lobbying the local government. He forged his entire political power base through deals and partnerships with powerful friends, the vast majority of which were all standing with Flynn in the ballroom. Most of these people either supported the Duke for the sake of a healthy partnership or because they were heavily in debt. The Duke's allies in this room were the true source of his power and influence. Otherwise, one of the Duke's other most distinctive holds of influence was how he funded the Weselton City Watch single-handedly in order to control the police and to keep his finances tax-free, as well as to keep his rivals and underlings in check.

The giant doors slowly opened forth, and out stepped two rather tall men draped in pristine burgundy overcoats with intersecting gold buttons across the chest. One had his light brown hair combed back while his sideburns almost reached the bottom of his chin. His partner's hair had a much darker shade of brown, as well as a full beard across his face. Judging from their stance and their stoic glare at their surroundings, they were no doubt the Duke's personal bodyguards. But these men were not like the giant standing next to the Southern Isles twins. While Roksar seemed like a snarling yet experienced saber tooth panther, the Duke's bodyguards seemed more like trained and disciplined attack dogs. They stood in a silently imposing manner, and were disturbingly unfazed and unaffected by the bright and festive ballroom.

After a quick sweep of the room, the two bodyguards slowly glanced at one another in silent affirmation, before signaling the presenter to continue.

"Presenting the eldest son of the Earl of Govius Nol Hyllus of the Hyllus family, Order of the Bilderberg Group, First Class, Honorary Member of the Weselton Military Defense Committee, and Viceroy of Weselton by the Grace of God and the appointment of His Majesty King Henry the Third of the Noble House of Mormont, Rightful Ruler of the Kingdom of the Western Isles and Defender of the Sacred Lands…" the presenter warbled on, dutifully reciting the Duke's long list of titles.

Flynn lowered his head and mentally groaned as the man just kept going on and on. I swear to god, if I have to hear more of his fancy titles for another five minutes, I'm going to attack someone. This guy's name is far too long; I'm just going to call him 'the Duke' for short.

Mercifully, the ridiculous list of noble titles ended and "… Duke Henruis Nol Hyllus of Weselton!"

So that was his name. Flynn promptly forgot it.

But the thief had to fight to contain his surprise when the underwhelming figure that stepped through the doors and into the light of the ballroom and was nothing like the mental images he had pictured earlier of the Duke of the Weselton. Dressed in a dark blue dignitary uniform, the elderly man was instead geriatric and flimsy in his tiny build, with large circular spectacles and a ridiculously thick gray mustache that covered the man's entire mouth.

Flynn blinked. Twice. This was the shrewd man exploiting the people and cornered the economy into the palm of his hand?! But, but! Cold-blooded giant! Fluffy white cat! He had been expecting a menacing business tyrant or a sadistic scheming snake, not some… skimpy old imp!

Now, Flynn had certainly heard the nickname that many people (and even a few nobles) had for this man as the Duke of 'Weasel-Town'. But seriously? How could anyone call him that name with that oversized nose of his? In Flynn Rider's opinion, the man was more like the Duke of Nasal-Town. That's right! Nasaltown!

The Duke of Nasal-ahem-Weselton slowly descended the staircase in a practiced descent. Then when he reached just ten steps before the floor, he stopped his descent. No more than a few moments later, the tenors silenced and the music died down, letting silence take hold over the room. A servant brought him a tray with a single glass of a golden-colored brew, no doubt finer than anything else that was being served. Not giving the servant a single glance as he took the glass, the Duke gently swirled the beverage, letting the silence play out a little bit, if only to make sure that all attention was on him. Seeing that it was, only then did he begin to speak.

"My lords and ladies," he said with his slightly adenoidal voice. "I thank you all for coming to this little soiree of mine. The past year has been a most glorious one, for not just the nation but also for my humble self. Yet this year it has also been filled with troubling news. There has been word of increases in pirate attacks, ships lost at sea and cosigned shipments that have disappeared. And lately there has even been rumors of mysterious creatures roaming about our lands. Many trade businesses and other companies grow worried and start fretting over this. There are even those who believe the western lands will never be settled. That the Northwest Passages will never be mapped. That a band of pirates will never submit to providence. And it is that very manner of small thinking that would say this time of unrest would be any kind of threat to all that has been built.

But we must not be concerned by such trivial occurrences and outlandish stories. One must only look around to remind themselves of what they are a part of. Look at this house, this fine food and drink brought before us. Look at the great cities, the vast harbors, the ships bustling with cargo and all our respective kingdoms. Look at all that has been built. Built by men and women that work for me, work for us. A great system of industry and economics, a powerful collection of mechanics that have run for more than a hundred years and will run for a thousand more!

And they come to us with talk of brigands and a handful of missing shipments? These are but a few drops in the large pool of our civilization's design. It is a disrespect to the very system that works day and night to build the cities and ships that has still brought the very food and drink before you. I have full confidence that within the next few months we will all have further cause to celebrate. Let us never forget that we are the masters in investment. Any instability and strife can be resolved. Always remember: Discipline, time and patience are the three great levelers."

And with a grandiose gesture, the Duke raised his wineglass. The audience followed him with their own glasses. "And so, a toast! To the glory of our business, the fortunes we are so rightfully blessed with, and to the greatness of our blood! May there always be a market for the things we do! Here, here!"

"HERE, HERE!"

Everyone drank together for the toast, although Flynn was drinking in honor of something very different indeed. And so as everyone sipped their wine and the party resumed just as quickly.

Flynn, however, kept his eyes on the Duke. Despite the man's flimsy appearance, after that speech it was clear what kind of man he was. And the thief knew better than most how looks could be deceiving.

As the Duke looked over the ensemble, he seemed to notice someone he recognized and strode forward with purpose. For whatever reason, Flynn wasn't surprised that he was meeting with the Southern Isles twins and seamlessly shifted his stance to make himself less noticeable as he discreetly followed to listen.

"Ah, your highnesses," the Duke greeted excitedly. "Rudi and Runo! I'm delighted that my two close friends, and favorite customers of course, were able to come!"

"We wouldn't miss one of your parties for the world!" one of them returned. "You've really outdone yourself this time!"

"As if I would ever do anything less. It does my heart good to see you here among all my other friends of supporters. I know I can always count you among them, correct?" the Duke asked with an expectant raised eyebrow.

"Oh yes, we're pleased to aid you in your dominion over Weselton," the other twin eagerly proclaimed.

Even with that oversized mustache, the Duke's hidden smile did not escape Flynn's sharp eyes. He could already guess what the Duke was lining up.

"Well, I can say that you're in for a pleasant surprise, your highnesses. I am most pleased to tell you that the shipment you ordered from Albion has finally arrived as of this very morning."

The twin's faces suddenly lit up as if Christmas had come a month early. "You did it? Already?! You finally got them to settle the deal?"

The Duke sighed oh so dramatically. "I don't want to go into it, the negotiations were a most trying and arduous task. It was quite difficult to secure it, but your trust in me is well placed and I did it just for you two."

Hook…

"Of course, the effort and expediency I spent on your securing your wares cost me two other contracts with Shona. I trust you won't mind compensating me the difference as a little extra?"

Line…

"Are you kidding? I never thought Albion would ever agree, let alone four months early! It's a done deal!"

Annnd sinker. Flynn rolled his eyes. He had participated in more than enough scams to recognize one when he heard it, and the Duke hadn't even been trying to be subtle. Not that he needed to, the twins were gullible idiots that paid through the nose to get whatever made them feel on top of everyone else. And the Duke had clearly recognized a set of naïve buyers with deep pockets, and soon had them eating out of the palm of his hand.

"And even better, I might just be able to lay the ground work for them to sell me the exclusive rights of the patent in order to mass produce them. If you would like, I will offer them to you and you alone. How would you like to be two of the only three people in the world to have access?"

Flynn's eyebrows went up. Forget going for the gold medal; the Duke was planting his flag in the diamond mine. Sure enough, the twins ate it up.

"I'm afraid it will be a little expensive though. You understand, of course."

"Of course, and it won't be a problem at all! We have something that can pay any expenses right here with us."

For the first time, the Duke was surprised. Then Roksar stepped forward to present the very same ornate box that Flynn been eyeing earlier. His instincts had told him that whatever was in that box could offer the opportunity to humiliate the twins. And so, he carefully watched from the sidelines with great anticipation as the giant man opened the lid of the box to reveal…. two of the most dazzling red rubies that Flynn had ever seen, each the size of a man's fist.

"These are the Stars of Aldera, named after our capital and the most valuable gems in our kingdom. Identical, yet still one of a kind, much like ourselves in fact."

Flynn tuned out the rest of the conversation. Just like with the Lucrenda painting and the Alde sculptures, the master thief had long since mastered the craft of determining the value of jewels, artwork and other items of significant worth. Even from a distance, he could tell that one could never put a price on those two rubies. They were certainly worth far more than whatever contract the Duke could offer them!

Yep, this is the problem with relying on a royal's greed and stupidity; it works.

Still, as he watched one of the Duke's bodyguards take the box and left the ballroom with them, an idea began to form. He had trusted his instincts and they had rewarded him once again in more ways than one. If those gems were to mysteriously go missing, the King of the Southern Isles would be furious with the twins, both for losing their prized rubies and a valuable contract. Flynn smiled as he remembered the servant the twins had abused earlier and the innocent homeless man they had arrested the other day. Oh, losing those rubies would certainly earn them the punishment they deserve.

However, just as he was about to follow the bodyguard carrying the box, Flynn noticed the unsettling way how the Duke had turned and narrowed his eyes to slits at someone else in the room. He followed the Duke's gaze to… oh, that's not good. It was the attractive dancer, Opal.

The box of rubies was forgotten as he discreetly followed the Duke, making sure to avoid the sharp eye of the remaining bodyguard. He sure hoped that she had not been seen stealing.

"Orla," the Duke said sternly.

She froze at the Duke's voice, hands starting to shake and face draining of color as she caught sight of him. It was clear how afraid she was of him, even with the man being almost two feet shorter than her.

"It's Opal, your gr-"

"Don't correct me," he interrupted severely. "Especially not after the news I have received."

The dancer tensed, and Flynn could tell she was doing everything in her power not to glance at the sleeve concealing the gold flatware she lifted.

"W-what news have you heard?"

Gone was the polite businessman that traded pleasant words with the Southern Isle twins, now there was only the derision of a lord who was extremely displeased.

"Stadfeltt refuses to pay his debt to me. I'm afraid this brings up the mite issue of your contract, since he offered yours up as collateral," the Duke said as he smugly presented a folded piece of paper before slipping it into his coat pocket. "I'll be forced to add several stipulations to your services."

Opal's eyes widened in shock, her fear of having been caught stealing now replaced by the dread of something equally terrifying.

"He… he what? Collateral? What kind of stipulations?"

"All in good time, my dear, all in good time," the Duke smiled as another servant handed him an impeccably white cup of earl grey tea with a pinch of cream. "But in short, your contract is now mine to do with as I see necessary."

"I've been working here for four years already!" The woman was already in tears, which only made the Duke roll his eyes. "Seventeen hour shifts, you hardly ever allow me to go home and you barely even pay me!"

The Duke idly stirred his tea, looking bored and disinterested. "You are paid as much as you are worth. But that's hardly relevant. As I have made clear, you belong to my house now, and you belong to me."

"No… no, you can't do this to me! I can't keep living like this! I won't do it anymore!"

The Duke scoffed at Opal. "Such entitlement from one born with nothing to their name. No family name, no holdings, no power. This is not a negotiation nor even an offer of your choice; I am simply informing you of my decision. Remember your place."

"That's just it! I do know what my place is!"

The Duke simply sipped his tea before handing it off to the other servant. "That's quite enough. It's already done, Orsa."

"My name is Opal!"

The Duke ignored her completely and continued talking.

"These are difficult times, and conditions have changed. I will need to extend the length of your indebted service. Perhaps even indefinitely."

Flynn did his best not to sneer. The self-serving tone, the languid arrogance, the subtle accent of contempt. It made his blood boil. When you steal from the rich, it's criminal. When you steal from the poor, it's capitalism.

He was growing more and more tempted to intervene somehow. Even the hawk in his mind was looking for possible avenues to take. It may not have been any of his business, but Flynn had a bad habit of getting into things that weren't his business. But he also had to maintain his cover, and directly interacting with the Duke could have serious consequences. Still, he knew what it was like to live in squalor under the corruption, the graft, the outright theft those in power committed because they thought their positions made them immune from judgment. He wasn't sure he could stand seeing someone else subjugated in such a similar manner for much longer. In fact, was she not like him? It was clear that she didn't take that gold flatware out of greed, but out of hunger and desperation. Just like him from so many years ago, she didn't have much of a choice. Instead, she knew her own worth.

"It's my work that has helped you! I'm owed the right to make decisions about what I do!"

"Now, now," the man said, voice oily and smooth and placating. "Don't think you know better than I. You're a woman, what makes you think you know anything?"

Alright, that does it!

Flynn set his glass down hard and started marching over to the pair. The frustration that had been slowly building up from having to listen to a room full of some of the worst of the nobility had finally boiled over. He had had enough!

Flynn also knew how many often explained how the one rule of living on the street worked in the more impoverished kingdoms, and not just any street but every street. Which meant the only rule was that you never saw anything, you never do anything and you were never there. No one looked out for anyone because no one was going to look out for you.

That was the rule… except Flynn Rider never followed rules. And he certainly never cared for the rule of submitting before someone because they thought themselves superior to you. You cannot fear someone you don't respect. He only bowed to someone about once in never. Flynn Rider bowed to no one.

~o~O~o~

The Duke's bodyguard, along with the second one who just returned from wherever he took the box, carefully eyed the noble that was approaching their charge.

And so here it is, he thought. At last, Flynn Rider meets the Duke of Weselton.

With a plan in motion, the thief stepped up until he was several paces behind the Duke's back, swallowed the bile in his throat and spoke up in the high-class tone he had been using all evening. "Your grace."

The man didn't even turn around.

"Whoever you are, I trust you justify your intrusion upon my valuable time with something of profound value," he sighed with the most incredibly loud drama.

Flynn blinked before hiding his smirk. "Well. Rude. I am Count Mathis Gladstone of Glowerhaven."

Glowerhaven. A representative of the Alliance!

The Duke blanched before he spun around so fast his glasses nearly flew off.

"Ah! A pleasure to finally meet you, Lord Gladstone!" It was like a switch had been flipped. "My deepest apologies for my earlier tone, I had no idea that you would be here!" the Duke rushed to greet politely, his voice the silky, practiced cadence of a noble and politician.

Flynn shrugged. "Let's just say that I intended my visit to be a surprise…"

"Well nevertheless, I am delighted and honored to have a delegate of the kingdom of Glowerhaven accept my invitation!"

Flynn Rider had seen many surprises in his adventures, both astonishing and shocking, but even he did not expect what happened next. The Duke snapped his heels together, extending a hand out to the count as he bowed in respect low at the hips. The act caused his 'hair' to peel off the top of his head and reveal a very prominent and shiny bald spot to the thief.

In all his years, Flynn had never faced a greater challenge in his life than trying not to laugh out loud at the sight. You're a noble of Glowerhaven, you're a noble of Glowerhaven, you're a noble of Glowerhaven!

Even Opal was now struggling to keep a straight face.

Flynn thanked whatever deities were listening when the man righted himself back up, his hair flipping back into place on his head and without him seeming to be the wiser. Of course, now he was faced with the challenge of not laughing now that he could see the Duke of Nasaltown's nose up close! It made him look like a bird!

Flynn wasn't entirely sure what to make of the man, feeling his bewilderment from when he first saw the Duke earlier coming back. Was this really the same man he saw a few minutes ago? When he wasn't quelling or threatening someone like Opal, it was actually rather hard to take this tiny, underwhelming man seriously, especially with that giant nose and fake set of hair flopping about like a wet towel.

"Ahem! Yes, um, your invitation!" Flynn recovered. "Well, a few of my, uh, people, had been talking at great lengths about the festivities that were being prepared this evening, and when I also heard about how many other important representatives were here, I decided to finally see for myself."

"Ah, so you have heard of me before, Gladstone?" I most certainly have and I'm sick of it.

"Indeed, your grace. Now, this party of yours! I must say that you have great taste!" More like great nostrils.

To his surprise, the Duke looked rather embarrassed. "There is no need to be so overly generous with your words, Gladstone. An old rival of mine in the royal courts thinks overmuch of himself and has spent years now blocking my efforts to obtain better living conditions for my esteemed person. I've had to suffer these cramped quarters the entire time I've resided here in Weselton, when I deserve so much better after the contributions and sacrifices I've made."

Did he say cramped?

Flynn looked around at the yawning ballroom surrounding them, with their multiple floors, lush carpets, and those priceless works of art loomed wherever one looked. He turned back and shook his head at him, "Yes, I'm sure it's been rough."

Opal lowered her head to hide her smirking grin. She was starting to like this particular noble.

"Well, if things work out during the summer when I go to meet with the future Queen of Arendelle, you may be looking at the next Grand Duke of Weselton," puffed the mustached man, trying to impress the Glowerhaven 'count'. "A title far more befitting a man of my stature, wouldn't you think?"

Oh, yes. You're a towering figure. Obviously. Who knew that such tiny shoulders could carry such a big head?

"Do you now?" Flynn questioned. "You must have come a long way then, and everyone needs to start somewhere."

The Duke nodded, understanding that a representative of the Alliance wanted to see his worth and value from how he first began, which was exactly the misdirection Flynn wanted. Get them to talk about themselves instead of trying to figure you out.

"Well, after my dear wife left me everything, bless her heart, my first real opportunity came around almost twenty years ago. You see, the kingdom of Corona was once the greatest supplier of food and agriculture in all the lands. Yet after the king and queen's daughter and heir to the throne went missing, Corona seemed to just fall into decline. Their economy began to show signs of recession, and for whatever reason, their supply of crops and other tradable goods deteriorated. Even more tragically, King Frederic and his wife seem to remain rather upset about the whole thing.

I, on the other hand, was willing to step forward and humbly pick up the slack for them. I offered them several lucrative contracts and trade agreements to bolster their economy while I would manage the bulk of their trade services for them. Still, the king keeps trying to remind me in his letters that this is all only temporary. That their obligations to me will only last until their dear daughter, their 'Lost Princess', returns of course, and they are ready to handle themselves on their own again. Hmph, as if that will ever happen. Regardless, I still remain as Corona's humble caretaker."

Flynn wasn't fooled. From what he just heard, the Duke of Nasaltown had the trade and finances of Corona in his clutches and it would continue to last until a certain condition, the return of a missing child, was met. Unless such a miracle were to happen, his hold over Corona would remain strong. The true side of the Duke was finally showing itself. In the tiny man's eyes, Flynn saw greed, satisfaction, arrogance, contempt, anticipation, laziness and opportunity. The Lord of Weselton turned a blind eye to his part in the commoner's incipient suffering, a privilege that came with never really having suffered.

"You truly think that such measures are really necessary… Your Grace?" He tried not ground out that last part.

The Duke frowned. "Of course they are, especially in these times. Lord Gladstone, I apologize for the impression I might have given you during my little speech, but the pirate attacks I mentioned are a tad bit worse than I had implied. It simply wouldn't do for the great movers in this room to start fretting and make irrational decisions. But shouldn't you already know this? I hear that most of the attacks seem to be concentrated within Alliance waters."

"I, uh, usually leave those details to my assistant."

"Ah, well then it's fortunate you came to me. The pirate attacks are going rather poorly for us, worse than is generally known. We normally see these scoundrels and vagabonds come and go, surging up during a season of good weather or in the middle of a new frenzy of trade shipments, and then dying down as they are either captured or simply just settle down with their ill-gotten spoils. But this time is different. They keep taking ship after ship, and there's no sign of that momentum slowing down. They seem far more organized, and even stranger is how their modus operandi seems to have changed. No ransoms, no demands and no survivors. But the worst part is how the goods and money taken from those ships are never seen again. There's no trace to be found. Either they sink the goods along with the ships that carried them, or they keep the wealth without ever spending it."

Flynn was suddenly quiet. He wasn't sure why the details of the unusual pirate activity sent a foreboding chill down his spine. He didn't know what it was, but for some reason his inner hawk suddenly felt tense, telling him there was something very wrong with such strange behavior. Something underneath it felt off, like the subtle tremor in a breeze that warned an experienced sea captain that a storm was coming.

"None of it makes any sense," the Duke continued. "It's a complete mystery, and the trading and shipping companies don't like mysteries. Not as many people are as willing to invest in trade as heavily as we need to keep our lives running as normally."

The feeling faded as Flynn reminded himself why he was here. Now that he had a few more details, he could see the picture more clearly. The recent increase in pirate activity had been bad for business, obviously. But not wanting to diminish their excessively lavish lifestyles, the Duke and the rest of the Weselton nobility sought a way to make up for their losses. Therefore, they turned to the populace to ease their 'burden' by passing new regulations to increasing the taxes as well dumping most of the debt on the lower class. No wonder why the people of the city were going through such hard times.

Then there was this party. Most of the common people had to ration what little food and money they had six months in advance as if they were preparing for a year-long winter. The cost of the party was astronomical and while the Duke still paid for some of the finer and more expensive things (to impress the local lords with his own wealth), he still levied most of the fees to the commoner's debts and taxes to him.

And here the Duke stood before him, living in the largest mansion Flynn had ever seen which demonstrated how completely unaffected he was by the poverty and suffering of the outer districts. He stood confidently and at ease, believing nothing could touch him.

'When men like him represent the law, then I'm proud to be an outlaw,' Flynn reminded himself with a smile.

The Duke, however, misinterpreted his smile as something entirely different.

"That's right, we shouldn't have reason to worry for much longer, Gladstone. After all, we will always be cared for, and I am a man that takes this sentiment quite seriously. A man who is very generous to his friends," the Duke hinted not-so-subtly at a possible partnership.

"Oh, are you certain about that?" Flynn still had to ask. "I've seen the other districts of your city, and it does not look like everyone might agree."

"Is this some form of protestant piety of the Alliance that I am not familiar with? You shouldn't always think too much of the peasants, they will receive what they are worth. I am the Duke of Weselton. Concern of those beneath me is unbecoming of a person of my rank. I have more important things to do than their constant whining and complaints."

"Giving the people more jobs, and perhaps extra food, would help a lot with that."

The Duke blinked owlishly behind his spectacles. "Food? These are difficult times. Our noble blood makes us the experts in running society. We need the food, the people can eat grass."

Flynn wondered for many weeks where he found the willpower to keep the reaction from his entire body limited to a simple eyebrow twitch, as even his inner hawk seemed to screech in outrage. Instead, he mentally offered the Duke many impolite words.

When I'm through tonight, you'll be so stricken with woe and disaster that your bird face is going to look like a constipated owl, you life-sucking midget!

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see that even Opal was trembling with barely contained ire.

The Duke continued on, blissfully unaware of the schemes flying through Flynn's mind of how to ruin the dwarf of a man. "But enough of that now, as we have much to discuss! I can promise you Lord Gladstone, I have much to offer you. I would be glad to help the Alliance just as I have helped Corona in its hour of need. Tell me, what's your opinion of the new military and trade contract King Eric offered to Glowerhaven and the other kingdoms? Or perhaps of the sanctions placed by King Willard on incoming shipments from my harbors?"

Flynn's silent ire with the man was suddenly replaced with alarm. He's talking business already? Oh hell no. No. Abort, abort, abort—

"Ah, your grace? I've had a rather emotional and trying week. While I am certainly interested in what you can offer me, I would like to first take some time to relax and enjoy myself in this most magnificent party. Afterwards, I will be more than happy to discuss the details of an arrangement."

One of the most important rules of conning someone? Never directly offer them what they want most, give them the opportunity to get what they want most.

He could easily see the gears turning in the Duke's head. Allowing 'Count Gladstone' to put off business for pleasure and further enjoy the festivities that he offered would put the foreign noble in a better and more reasonable mood, if not inebriated as well. Psychologically, the Duke had offered him a special privilege and the Count, however slight, would be in his debt. From what Flynn had seen with the Southern Isles twins and Opal, the Duke relished having people in his debt.

That's right, let him think he's in control. Nothing like letting them think they have the advantage while you make off with the real prize.

He didn't regret his decision to step in on Opal's behalf, but Flynn knew he had taken a major risk in deviating from the plan and directly approaching the Duke. Now he needed to slip out of his personal attention.

"That won't be a problem, Lord Gladstone!" the Duke brightly answered. "The night is still young, there's no rush. Feel free to indulge yourself to your heart's content, my treat! Just like I provide for everyone else here!"

Flynn smiled with a perfectly fake look of immense gratitude to a man of immense power. His acting was superb.

"In fact…" A gleam appeared in the Duke's eyes as he glanced to the side at Opal. "I'll do one better, just for you! Oscilla, make sure to give Lord Gladstone your company for the rest of the evening."

The dancer recoiled at the implication as though she had been kicked by a horse, a look of horror flashing across her face.

Flynn was no less appalled, and this time it was no act when his eyes flared. Contrary to what some might think, he did not see women as some prize to be won. In all his escapades with the fairer sex, Flynn had discovered that some of the greatest pleasures and joy were found with women. Not as a prize or a trophy, but as a true treasure. And like any worthwhile treasure, it was something to be appropriately cherished and appreciated with the care and respect it deserved. And certainly not something to be sold or offered up like some business transaction!

"You listen here, your grace. I don't know what kind of person you think I am, but I do not treat women like that and I can promise that neither does the Alliance force any woman to do so! If you… think… that…"

Flynn trailed off as he saw the look of genuine confusion on the Duke's face. The tiny man then glanced over at Opal and looked her up and down as if looking for something that he missed.

"Gladstone, I'm afraid I don't understand. What are you talking about?"

Flynn stared blankly at him. The dancer had a gifted figure that could make even a man of advanced age flush. Flynn had also noticed that even some of the other women in the room had a hard time not undressing Opal with their eyes. Yet as he watched the Duke look Opal's frame over just now, he saw… nothing. There was no sign of desire, arousal or any of that form of interest a normal man would have in a woman. Did he really not see her? Was there something wrong with his glasses?

Something in the back of Flynn's mind suddenly clicked as he remembered how the Duke had married three times yet never had any children of his own. He had only married for wealth and influence, not for love or desire for a family. Flynn finally understood. The Duke didn't care about women, he didn't even see them that way. It didn't even occur to him have them to lift up their skirts for other nobles. The only thing that interested the Duke was money.

Flynn didn't know whether to be relieved or disturbed at such a revelation. It took a very specific kind of elitist mind to rewrite its own perception to not see women as an object of desire.

"I… never mind." I wonder if he's still a virgin?

The Duke still looked confused, his large mustache scrunched up in puzzlement. Then he simply shrugged. "Well, no matter then. As I said Oprella, make sure Lord Gladstone remains entertained tonight. See to it that Weselton hospitality remains second to none!"

At that moment, the ballroom musicians switched to a new piece of classical music that had a presto tempo. The Duke suddenly perked up at the sound.

"Oh! If you'll excuse me Lord Gladstone, they're playing my favorite song and the dancefloor is calling my name!"

Flynn blinked in surprise. "You… dance?"

The Duke snapped his heels together. "Absolutely, one of the best! I'm sometimes known in court as the Little Dipper! Out on the dance floor, my feet carry me like an agile peacock!"

With that, he put his hands behind his back while he began hopping his way to the dance floor. Flynn's earlier bewilderment resurfaced as he watched in stunned silence as the tiny man's toupee flopped up and down with every skip in his step.

He was strangely reminded of his old caretaker Astella's cuckoo clock. One would think that by his idea of 'dancing' the Duke must be a big fan of looking like an idiot. Wait a minute… is he wearing heels?! I don't even…

Regardless, he was finally away from the Duke of Nasaltown. And he was now left alone with Opal, who didn't go anywhere as per the Duke's orders. She still didn't look happy about it. Who would be?

~o~O~o~

"Opal, wasn't it?"

Opal's wary eyes snapped to him, face closed off, guarded. The man had remembered her real name. But while he seemed more sympathetic during his conversation with her employer, she had been disappointed by the nobility before.

"You've been here for a while, right? Tell me, is stupidity common around here?"

The guarded look on Opal's face slipped. "… What?"

"Why else do you think the people around here in act like everyone is supposed to act as they expect. Heh, they probably have a rulebook." He paused before turning to the dancer as if considering. "They do have a rulebook, don't they? Admit it."

Opal's full lips twitched in a flickering smile. She had heard plenty about the 'handsome lord' from the other girls who just couldn't seem to stop gushing about him. Well, he was certainly far cuter than she had expected and was already more pleasant to talk with. She hadn't been happy with the idea of the Duke offering her up to Lord Gladstone, but as she eyed the appealing turn of his strong shoulders, she found herself wondering if he might be worth it…

"Well, the Duke certainly spared no expense," the man carried on, seemingly oblivious as Opal looked him over. "Even the smallest of things here is worth more than what most people would see in a year. So how much do you think a few pieces of gold flatware are worth?"

Opal's world suddenly felt like it had been struck with a blacksmith's hammer. "E-excuse me, milord?"

"Word of advice? Don't say 'excuse me', it makes you sound guilty."

"I-I don't… Are you… There's not…"

"There's not what? Not anything up your sleeve?"

Opal's hand snapped to her right sleeve, then her face turned to an unnatural shade of white as she realized her mistake. She was caught, and her life was over.

"Hey, relax. You're not in trouble. You would also do a better job if you take them along with some food and a dinner plate, like you're about to bring some appetizers to someone. No one would look twice at a simple servant doing their job."

The dancer's terrified trembling slowly subsided as she calmed down, almost ready to cry tears of relief at the count's apparent amnesty. "You won't… I… oh, thank you! I'm so sorry, but I just can't make enough to take care of myself anymore. I don't mean to bother you with my problems, milord, but—"

"Please, you don't have to call me that. As you can probably tell, I'm not real big on all the formalities, let alone how they seem to do their business in this city. Looking down on the lower classes and caring so much about their fancy titles. 'Look at me, I'm so important so you have to drop everything and kiss my shoes because I'm so pompous' blah blah blah."

Opal had to cover her mouth to stifle her laughter, suddenly smiling more than she had in weeks. "Pffft! My lord, please! Don't let anyone hear you!"

"Hey, I'm from the Alliance, remember? No one will dare to accost the one person the Duke wants to do business with more than anyone else."

A flicker of worry appeared in her blue eyes. "Take it from me, my lo-Gladstone. From your conversation, forgive me for overhearing, I can tell you don't care for the Duke's policies. He is not someone you want to do business with. You heard it from the man himself; he doesn't care who else gets hurt, noble birth or not, as long as he makes a profit."

The count smirked as he put a comforting hand on her shoulder. "He has far less power over me than he might ever realize. Trust me, I know how to take care of myself."

Opal wasn't sure whether it was the certainty in his voice or the faint blush of hers caused by Gladstone's physical contact, but she found herself believing him. Without thinking, she put her own hand on his, as if hoping it would spread some of that confidence to her. But as she did, something felt off. Curious, she gently lifted his hand up and looked more closely at it.

The skin of his palm was sturdy and tough. It was the hand of a hard-worker, not the dainty hand of a comfy noble. Opal's eyes slowly drifted to the man as a sneaking suspicion wormed its way into her mind. "Lord Gladstone… how were you able to tell I took some of the flatware?"

The man was silent for a moment before he simply smiled. He seemed impressed.

"Well, you know what they say. It takes one to know one."

After a brief sweeping glance to make sure no one else was looking, he slyly opened the left side of his overcoat to reveal hidden pockets filled to the brim with gold coins and sparkling jewelry.

Opal gasped audibly at the sight, eyes wide with disbelief as she clamped her hands over her mouth. She couldn't believe it, he had so much! It had taken all her courage and desperation just to sneak a few flatware pieces. And here before her stood a man who was clearly not afraid of the nobility and yet boldly dressed himself up as one, talked with lords, royalty and even the Duke without fear, and audaciously took so much of their wealth off their very person with such ease and skill!

"W-who are you?"

He smiled once again as he leaned in close to whisper in her ear. "The name's Rider. Flynn Rider."

Opal froze. That name… no, it couldn't be. How could it be him? Here? Talking to her? The legendary thief who dared to defy kingdoms and empires, stole royal fortunes and had slipped through the fingers of every soldier, mercenary, spy and bounty hunter ever sent after him?

The man in question chuckled at her wide-eyed stunned expression, easily guessing the questions she had. "Who else could walk in here and do what I have done?"

"You… it's you… you really steal from people?"

Flynn's left eye twitched. "Now don't get the wrong idea there, I am not like the people in this room. Yes, I steal. But I take what I need from those who have more than enough, I don't stand on the shoulders of people with less. And I'm certainly not anything like the Duke of Nasaltown."

Opal sputtered at the ridiculous name, trying not to laugh in the middle of a ballroom. "I can see that, your nose isn't as big."

Flynn didn't miss a beat at the quip. "Don't worry! The size of my nose has nothing to do with the size of my other parts."

She couldn't help it. Her gaze immediately glanced down between his legs, right before her head snapped away as she blushed furiously, her imagination taking her to fantasies she would never share with another living soul. She tried her best to pass it off nonchalantly.

"Ah yes, well, I… I still can't believe it… you've fooled everyone! The Duke, the guards… you are a true master of disguise!"

"Hardly. There's no such thing as a master of disguise. If there was, I'd be one. In the meantime," Flynn said with his charming smile. "There's one prize left I need to find, and I could use your help."

As if remembering where they were, Opal's eyes started darting back and forth wildly all over the room, as if afraid the entire city garrison of soldiers would suddenly come marching through the door and demand their arrest. Looking back to him, it dawned on her.

"You intend to take something from the Duke himself," she said hesitantly. "Aren't you?"

"Oh, you make it sound like I'm committing treason," he said casually. "Would it sound better if I said I'll be stealing from an ass?"

Opal wasn't sure how many more times she could keep herself from laughing. This man, Flynn Rider, had made her smile more times in a few minutes than she had in months. But the risks were still ever-present, and she didn't have the confidence Rider did. It took all her courage just to slip a handful of flatware, but this was something on a whole other level.

He gently thumbed her chin for good measure to help soothe her anxiety. She clearly never imagined it possible to rebel against the nobility in such a way. He just needed to coax out the courage he had seen from her against the Duke.

"Danger doesn't scare me," he said. "Besides, my motto is to always expect trouble… and failing that, cause trouble for someone else."

The dancer smiled again. His eyes held a conviction that made Opal's heart twitch in longing. But even so, she wasn't sure. "I don't know what help I could be to someone as capable as you."

Her eyes were almost broken. She was frightened of the nobility and also slightly daunted by him. Sighing in sympathy, Flynn looked back at the Duke, who was prancing about like a game of leapfrog on the dancefloor, oblivious to the shock and hidden amusement of the other nobles. Then he suddenly remembered.

"Stadfeltt refuses to pay his debt to me. I'm afraid this brings up the mite issue of your contract, since he offered yours up as collateral," the Duke said as he smugly presented a folded piece of paper before slipping it into his coat pocket. "I'll be forced to add several stipulations to your services."

If anything, Flynn was ashamed that he hadn't already thought of the idea the moment he saw it. "Did I mention there might be a way I could get you out of here?"

"What?"

"You must always believe in yourself more. You must believe that you're stronger. The Duke is desperately eager to earn favor from an 'Alliance representative'. So eager that I might be able to convince him to give 'Count Gladstone' your employment contract. He would think you're employed in the kingdom of Glowerhaven, and therefore you could leave Weselton and be free of him. You could start over."

Even defensive as she was, Flynn could see her eyes dilate at the opportunity, her red lips pursing to prevent comment. Her chance was suddenly offered on a silver platter by a man with the reputation to get it. She wanted it, wanted the idea, but could not find the courage to trust it. He couldn't blame her, if her life had been so mistreated by the Duke.

Alright, it was time to bring out his ace in the hole, his secret weapon. One that he seldom ever had to use but it was the only way fast enough to get Opal to break through her worries. Here comes… the Smolder.

Flynn squeezed his eyes shut, mentally apologizing to the beautiful dancer for what the reaction it would cause. And then he looked back up, pouring every drop of his legendary charm into the sweetest look in his melted-caramel eyes and the most adorable pout in his lips.

The effect was immediate. Opal's eyes went wide as she was completely overwhelmed, as though she went to cloud nine in no time flat. Her eyes took on a dreamy gaze as she exhaled sharply, followed by heavy breathing as she felt her blood rushing to places.

Then her stance began to waver. Flynn, accustomed to this reaction, skillfully caught her by the shoulder and gently shook her. Suffice to say, the power of the Smolder was enough to make any female swoon head over heels. Often times enough, they even had trouble standing. There had even been a few times where they actually fainted. Fortunately, this wasn't one of those times.

Flynn couldn't help but give a slightly goofy smile as he smoothly asked, "So, do you trust me to get the job done?"

Opal's lip was still quivering as she managed to right her footing. "You… you can really do that?"

Flynn nodded. "Listen, gem. You need to understand that even when you get treated like an animal, you can never let it stop you from being a person. After all, if you only do what you're expected to, like the nobles tell you to, then you'll never do anything surprising and you'll never be anything surprising. Without surprises, you would be boring for your entire life and that is a most awful way to live. You're the one who chooses who you are, not the short mustache king over there on the dance floor."

His impromptu but impassioned words brought a true smile to Opal's face as it stirred something in her heart she never knew was there. It felt… exciting, like a leaf caught in a great wind. Looking back at Flynn, she began to feel a sense of anticipation rather than trepidation, as though something grand was approaching.

"Oh my god, I'm really going to do this, aren't I?"

"Would you regret it?

A spark appeared in Opal's eyes that she never had before. "… No. No, I wouldn't. My mother passed back when I was a little girl and my father was lost during one of the pirate attacks. I had to live with my Uncle Stadfeltt, who gambled and made risky investments all the time. Then when he made too many deals with the Duke, he offered me up as indentured service for his debts. Ever since then, the Duke has forced me to work for him for the past four years. You're right, I'm practically a slave. I'll do anything to get out, so what do you need?"

Flynn knew how she felt, living such a difficult life and not in control of your fate for a long time, only to finally realize what you were truly capable of and then make your own choices. Suffice to say, to find a kindred spirit in one with such a curvy body made him more than a little curious.

"That's the spirit!" Flynn commended. "Now, let's get to it. All I need before I talk to the Duke is two of the largest rubies you've ever seen. Are you familiar with those two Southern Isles princes over there?"

Opal almost sneered in disgust. "Yes, and I've made the effort to avoid them all evening. Tell me you've got a plan to put them in their place, give them a taste of their own medicine."

"A taste? Gem, if we make off with their prized rubies, they'll be given the whole bottle."

Opal perked up as a thought struck her. "I think I know where they are! I've heard plenty of talk about the Duke's private collection, a private vault where he keeps his most valuable treasures all for himself!"

Flynn's eyes went wide with excitement. The Duke's personal collection?! Ohhhh, that sounds promising. If there's anywhere the Duke had his men put rubies like those away, it would be there.

"Really now? Do you know where it might be?"

"No, I was never told. He doesn't let anyone other than his bodyguards and his lieutenant near it. I doubt his bodyguards are willing to talk, but the lieutenant is quite a chatterbox. The man never stops talking, especially about himself."

With this latest information, Flynn knew what to do. Find this lieutenant, get him to tell where the private vault was, make off with the jackpot, get Opal's contract from the Duke and then walk off into the sunset! Simple! Getting in will be easy, getting out should be fun.

"Alright then. Stay here and I'll be back for you soon, Gem. I promise."

"Just please be careful, Fl-Lord Gladstone. We could get into serious trouble!"

He just smiled. "Ah, but that's how you know it's an adventure."

As Flynn Rider walked off, Opal paused. He had called her 'Gem'. Given her name, she supposed it fit.

~o~O~o~

Outside the front entrance of the Duke's mansion in the cool late-night air, the admittance clerk was finally able to breathe easily.

It hadn't been easy juggling over nine dozen invitations. Make no mistake, the clerk considered it his greatest honor to serve the Duke of Weselton, especially by personally overseeing the admittance of whatever guests the Duke saw worthy to step within the halls of his own home. Therefore, he focused on his task with the greatest diligence. Nevertheless, he was inordinately grateful to whatever gods existed that it was finally over, as it still took considerable effort to remember each part of every single noble's name. By the skies and sea, many of the nobility had the longest names. Even for those that did not have such a name, nearly all easily took offense if you got their illustrious name wrong. Still, he had managed to memorize each one and matched them to their faces. Now it was finally over and he could turn in for the night. He wouldn't have to worry about any more nobles for a long time.

So great was the clerk's relief as he was organizing the very last of his papers that he failed to notice a group of new arrivals.

The group dismounted, their horses getting taken away by practiced stable hands straight in complete silence. Not a single word was uttered, the only sound being a horse's occasional snort and clopping hoof. The servants were immensely surprised at the appearance riders' arrival, especially at this ungodly hour, but none of them dared speak at the sight of the rider's insignia and instead dutifully escorted the cloaked rider's mounts to the VIP stables.

The cloaked riders stood in another perfectly parallel formation as the lavish carriage they escorted arrived in the courtyard.

The clerk still didn't notice the arrival until the passenger of the carriage, protected by his experienced bodyguards, had approached. Even then, he didn't look up. However, he gave a small sigh of annoyance at having to handle yet another one.

"Whoever you are, I'm afraid that you're too late," he stated just short of a biting tone. "The hours of admittance to the Duke's party are long over, and no exceptions."

"I believe that you'll make one for me," answered a baritone yet amused voice.

The clerk snorted. "It doesn't matter what house you come from, all admissions are final. I don't care who you are."

One of the cloaked bodyguards stepped forward to set the rude man straight, but his charge held a hand up.

"Well, I certainly care who I am: King Benjamin II of Glowerhaven."

The clerk snapped up, looking straight at the visiting monarch that he had so brazenly and rudely spoken to. He could already feel the blood seeping from his face.

If he didn't find a way to fix this, he would be in a great deal of trouble.

---

Wow, it's good to be back! Sorry about the wait everyone, the last semester was rather uncooperative.

And Flynn Rider demonstrates his charm and cunning as he navigates through the social elite and lifting their valuables without anyone the wiser. We finally take a deeper glimpse into the man he is, his sense of self-interest balanced with a heart of gold. He may indeed be in this adventure for himself, to seek prizes and thrills, but he won't turn a blind eye to those around him. He remembers where he came from, and will extend a hand to those like him. And now, the climax of his greatest heist is almost upon us, as he takes the next step for the ultimate opportunity tonight. But he best remain on his toes, as an unexpected arrival to this game can ruin everything. What will happen next?

I would also like to make a shout out to Robert Lacher, a man who has helped me greatly in becoming a better writer! I will be using many of the lessons you taught me in my story!

Disclaimer: The characters and events of Tangled and Frozen are owned by Disney. Credit for the Alliance and its member nations goes to DarkDragonFires12, my friend and partner in this story-verse. Credit for details on Arendelle goes to Piccolosky. Everything else is mine.

As always, your comments, thoughts and constructive criticism is appreciated and welcomed. If you like it, favorite it! If you want to keep up and find out what happens next, follow it!