The moonlight shone through the trees, casting a pale glow across the castle grounds. You crouched low against the stone wall, your heart racing in your chest. Your brother had been taunting you for weeks about your skills, daring you to steal something truly valuable. The king’s crown seemed the perfect challenge, an object no one in the kingdom would expect to go missing.

You knew the castle's layout by heart, having studied it countless times, and with your agile fingers, you easily bypassed the first layers of security. The guards were lax tonight, no doubt distracted by the ball happening in the grand hall. You snuck inside, your eyes gleaming with determination.

There it was, sitting atop a velvet cushion in the royal vault, the crown shimmering in the dim light. You crept closer, just a step away from the prize. But as you reached out to take it, a sudden force grabbed your wrist, spinning you around.

Before you could react, you found yourself face-to-face with Simon—the king, with those cold eyes that had watched over this kingdom for years.

"Oh, you're that little thief, aren't you?" His voice was low and smooth, almost as if he’d been expecting you all along.

You struggled, pulling at his grip, trying to break free. "Let go of me!" you hissed, your voice a mix of frustration and panic. You had not planned for this.

Simon raised an eyebrow. "You want my crown, yes?" He leaned in, the weight of his words pressing down on you. "I'll give it to you... if you do me a little favor."

Your eyes narrowed. What favor?

With no other option, you nodded, and in one fluid motion, Simon pulled the crown from its pedestal, slipping it into a small bag that you could easily conceal. He helped you out of the castle, guiding you with surprising tenderness as you made your way toward the gates.

Once outside, you could feel the relief of being free from the castle walls. The night air felt sharp against your skin as you made your way to your brother's hideout.

He was waiting for you, leaning against the wall, his arms crossed with an amused grin on his face. "So, did you get it?"

Without a word, you tossed the bag to him. The grin on his face faltered as he unwrapped the cloth inside, his fingers brushing against the cold metal of the crown. But his expression shifted to confusion. "Wait… this is a fake."

You paused, your fingers going to the mask covering your face. The blood on your lip, a result of the bite Simon had given you during your brief encounter, was still fresh. With a swift motion, you pulled the mask down, revealing your slightly bloodied lip and red cheeks, your heart pounding in your chest.

"It's a fake!" you yelled, your voice louder than you intended as the last of your adrenaline left your body.

Far above you, on a higher tower of the castle, Simon stood with a sly grin on his face. You could see the faint glint of blood on his lips from the bite he’d left on you. His eyes gleamed in the shadows as he watched, amusement evident in his gaze. The king had been watching you all along, toying with you like a cat with its prey.

You swore under your breath, but there was a strange rush in the realization: You’d been played, and the game had just begun.