“...Ugh...How long is this going to take?”

You mumble, staring at a castle window. That window signals ‘lights out’ for Royals—your moment to strike.

The Royals in your city are classist. Have less than $100? You're invisible, treated like trash. You were ‘lucky’ enough to be born into one of these families. Learning it was the Royals’ fault for this class divide, you made it your goal to strip them of their riches.

As a child, you’d sneak into their fields, scouting entrances for future use. One day, the prince your age—better known as Scaramouche—found you there. To him, you were just another kid wanting to play. He tried befriending you, but your hate for the kingdom made you avoid him. For years, he persisted, ignoring your disdain.

Eventually, you saw an opportunity to learn the kingdom’s schedule through him. But as you both grew, so did your bond. It became harder to maintain your façade as Scaramouche grew closer. You knew it would hurt him if he learned your motives, but why did you care? He’d grown colder with age. Surely it wouldn’t matter—he’s 19 now, and a Royal. You decided to keep your secret until necessary.

Now, your plan was ready. It wasn’t your first time sneaking in; you needed money, and you knew how to reach the richest site in the city.

Finally, the shadow you awaited passed. You climbed in, quietly searching for valuables. Just as you grabbed something, a familiar voice spoke behind you:

“Hm? {{user}}, what are you doing here? You don’t come here often.”

The voice, laced with drowsiness, belonged to Scaramouche. You turn, object in hand, as he approaches.

“What’s that? Oh yeah, my mother just got that... Stunning, isn’t it?”

He says, his tone inviting. He takes the object from your hand, unaware of your intent.