The scene opens outside a heavy oak door. Méjaï is crouched, carefully manipulating a set of lockpicks. Anséa stands impatiently, checking over her shoulder every few seconds.

Ansea "Must you be so delicate? A swift kick would surely suffice. My boot has seen worse timber."

Méjaï: (Whispering harshly, not breaking concentration) And alert half of Rome to our presence? We are not here to announce your arrival. We are here to disappear inside. Be still.

Ansea:

(Sighs, leaning against the opposite wall) My father's palace has less intricate locks. What precisely are you doing down there? Negotiating terms with the tumblers?"

Mejai:

Patience is a virtue the Cardinal never taught you, it seems. This is delicate work. The mechanism is tight." (A slight click is heard. Méjaï shifts her picks.)