Yes, My Lady

Chapter One - It's A Deal

Each step I took felt like a knife was sawing itself back and forth across my muscles. The pain was unbelievable! That was the last time I EVER considered on jumping out through a window, especially with heels. As I reached the top of the stairs, my legs were numb from the pain, and I wished more than anything that I had stayed in my room. My legs throbbed in agony as I leaned against the wall, trying to catch my breath. 

I could hear the drunken laughs of men and women alike. Their slurred words were incomprehensible and floated around me. The smell of alcohol was intense and made my stomach tighten. As if in on cue, my stomach rumbled, reminding me that I hadn't eaten the night before. I mumbled a curse under my breath and stumbled past the door to my left that I had entered from last night and into the door in front of me that led to the back of the bar.

"Good Evening, Victoria," greeted Nicholas, who put down the beer mug he had been wiping  on the counter in order to divert his attention to me. He was wearing the accustomary apron over his bleached dress shirt with his typical dress pants. Whenever I saw him in the apron, it always made me smile as I imagined him with a better life than this - a life that didn't involve stealing to be the way he lived. 

"Evening, Nickie." I greeted back, and smirking as I heard him snort in response. I scooted behind him to get from behind the counter, careful not to knock down the exotic assortments of wine and alchohol stacked behind me. Nicholas tried his best to press himself against the counter top to let me pass, but that didn't prevent his back from rubbing against my chest. 

I clenched my jaw to prevent the blush from arising upon my cheeks. It was getting harder and harder to do this every morning - to avoid the thoughts of what we used to be from bombarding me. It only felt this way when we touched, which is something I made sure we did very little of. He was like family, but at times he always found a way to slip behind that boundary I set on him and become... way more than that.

I didn't dare turn around to look him in the face. I had an extremely fair complexion and the heat I felt on my cheeks would probably be extremely obvious. I hurried away, not wanting to give him any reason for me to turn around and face him. I wouldn't say this out loud, but I knew I was too cowardly to face any issues that dealt with the blasted word Love.

The stench of alcohol and filthy men made my head spin. It was definitely night time. It was never this crowded unless it was close to the night hours where the men could drop their chivalorous acts, ditch their wives and get rowdy at the bar. The bar was definitely more of an underground thing - a place for people who felt daring and were attracted to danger. The steady pace I was going at was enough to subdue the pain in my legs.

Finding a flurry of blond hair attached to a leggy figure filled me with relief. It served as a light house to me, signaling me to safety amongst the mass of drunken men. I picked up my pace towards the figure, shoving drunkards out of my way as I did so. Finally, I was able to have a clear view of Seth. Seth was sitting down across from a plump, stocky man in his fiftities, no doubt a client. They were leaning across the table towards each other, totally engrossed in their conversation. Of course Seth would be engaging the potential client in our little messed up version of the Three Musketeers. As a group of three, we took on any job that was offered to us that came with a pay. Seth was a person guy and a scholar, so it was reasonable we left it up to him to appoint us jobs to complete. Seth was the brains. Nicholas was the muscle.  And I was the . . . wild card, at best.

Deciding that I was more important than his client, I marched up to the table Seth was at bumped my waist into the table to get his attention. Seth's head snapped up from the conversation, his mouth open in mid sentence, his brows furrowed. As he studied me, he dropped his annoyed look on his face and replaced it with affection. "Hello, Red."

I beamed at him and gave the client a curteous smile. The client looked from me to Seth, confusion set on his face. 

"Is this Red?" The client questioned as he began wringing his wrists with his hands, his eyes darting between Seth and I. I looked at Seth. I hated it when clients knew what I looked like.

Seth gave his client a reassuring smile. "Yes, it is."

The client's questioned face was filled with astonishment - a face I saw frequently when people found out that I was Red, the Most Wanted criminal in England. The price on my head was enough to last a man a life time. The client gulped. "Hello, Ma'am."

"Ello, lad," I responded, noticeably tweaking my accent into one that resembled an Irish woman. I knew better than to reveal my real voice, it was already enough this man knew would I looked like. He seemed like a potential employer. I gave him a cheesy smile.

Seth, thankfully, knew better than to look at me questioningly with my newly acquired accent. He wasn't dumb. Seth gestured at the client to continue on, to state the task that he was offering. The client noticably swallowed loudly before stuttering, "I-I-I'm Lord Price and I'm here to humbly ask of your services."

I raised my eyebrow, allowing him to continue with his speech. "I-I'm here to see if you'll be willing to break into a building," he concluded, looking down at the floor. Before I could say anything, he quickly added, "I'll pay handsomely."

"Define handsomely." I inquired.

"One million pounds."

Seth, who apparently hadn't heard the price in his conversation with Lord Price, spewed out win and started sputtering incomprehensible nonsense, something along the lines of 'that's ridiculous'. 

Lord Price must've dealt with Mercenaries before. Mercaneries always wanted to hear their award first before they heard the mission. I quirked up my eyebrow yet again in question of what this building could be in order for Lord Price to pay so finely for.

"What building?"

Lord Price sighed and nervously began running his gloved fingers through his salt and peppered mustache. "Well," he began, his white eyebrows furrowing in concentration, visibly trying to find a way to word his request. "It's the royal palace," he finished, finding out that he had no other word to comfort the insanity of his request. 

Once again, Seth sputtered out his wine, which now coated a shocked Sir Price. Irritably, Lord Price wiped the wine off his face, his dark eyes narrowed at Seth who I was currently pounding the back of. Once Seth was able to get the wine down the wrong pipe, he growled, "What?!?"

While Lord Price was stuttering out a response to Seth, I was zoning out. I'd never had dared in my life to actually rob the palace, that was suicide at its best. However, if I got out alive, the booty I'd be able to claim and the reward for completing Price's mission would set me up for life and allow Nicholas, Seth and I to retire for our entire business of thieving and mercenaring.

"I'll do it."

Seth gazed at me in shock. I was in shock, too. But deep inside my heart I knew I wanted this. Just imagining the three of us having a place to call home instead of this bar was a wish that I worked for every day.

"Very well, then," Price murmured, surprised as well that I had said yes. "I need for you to acquire one of the vases in the palace that has been my family's heirloom for centuries. The royals unfairly snatched it from my possession and I want it back. It's easy to spot, it's one of a kind. It's red."

I didn't give the deal another moment of pondering. Before I could let Seth talk me out of this deal with his undoubtedly sane, scholarly thinking, I stuck out my hand. "Deal."