“Nira,” a soft whisper echoed.

She felt a few taps on her shoulder. Or did she? Her mind was still clouded with the fog of slumber, and it hugged her with its comforting arms.

“Nira,” the voice came again. This time louder. And more familiar. It sounded like… Sir Varus.

She jolted up to see a tired Sir Varus standing by the bed holding some books in his hand. With heavy bags under his eyes and his head struggling to stay up, he let out a small yawn.

“-Aaaawn. Nira, sorry for waking you abruptly, but I need to head down to grab the agenda for today’s meetings. Please use the time I am away to make yourself ready. I will close the room when I get back. Any questions?”

Was this a joke? After spending years torturing and tormenting her, life had decided to flip Nira’s world in just one night. With the fog in Nira’s mind suddenly dissipating, a spark of a scheme began to ignite.

“No sir, I understand.”

Hearing that, Sir Varus ran out of the room. Nira’s eyes immediately fell on the chest. She already had some information about his project, but whatever secrets the chest hid could not hurt. If it had money, she would welcome it, and if it had evidence of the project, she was sure the king would. How could a man at his level be so smart yet so naive and dumb? All of her experience was meaningless when dealing with him; it was a disappointment that people like him held any power at all.

First, partners were supposed to wake before the master - although Nira was terrible at waking up with the bells - so she should have been punished. Moreover, the fact that Sir Varus was the one waking Nira only made the entire affair more awkward.

Second, why was she left alone in the room? Was it a trap? Had he caught on to her plan? Partners, servants, or any lowborn should never be left alone with masters’ personal belongings. In fact, anybody that didn’t carry a noble’s family blood and name shouldn’t be left alone in a situation like this. She was out of place, like a fly on a cake, but now she had the perfect opportunity to get at the sweetest treasure.

Nira shuffled to the chest. A simple lock. One that looks fancy, trying to deter potential adversaries through its perceived complexity, but in reality, is just a glorified latch. She went to Sir Varus’ work table to look for a few paper clippers or any other long, malleable piece of metal. She didn’t have to search long as the man probably had a kingdom’s supply of paper clippers scattered across the table. She grabbed a few, took them to the chest, and started to bend and prod one to create a skeleton key. Once she was able to discern the shape of the ward, it was only a matter of binding more paper clippers to strengthen her key. Her mischievous youth had some use after all. Despite her skill, all her fiddling and prodding created a lot of clinking and clanking, the kind that causes anyone listening to become curious about its origin. She had to move fast.

“-thunk”

With her left hand, Nira caught the lock before it fell on the floor, and with her right, she slowly opened the chest, wasting no time in celebrating her victory. Her eyes quickly scanned her prize.

Meh. It was full of about a dozen sheets of papers and trinkets. She quickly scanned through the trinkets, nothing of value. There were wooden toys, bells, cloth, belt buckles, books, and more - there was even a used trowel - but more or less, they just seemed like worthless souvenirs from Sir Varus’ adventures. And as for the papers, they were mostly all letters. Nira couldn’t read well -in spite of her mother’s attempts to get her to learn from some of Count Olsen’s books- but she could tell that these letters were all written to Sir Varus from various people. Maybe they would contain some important secrets, but they lacked all the numbers, charts, and maps that were on the papers on his desk. No, these weren’t scientific papers, and they weren’t official either; they were written on cheap paper.

Except one. One paper looked so important, that it was practically screaming at Nira to examine it. The paper itself was covered in a gloss, preventing the ink from rubbing off and the paper from aging, and there was gold embroidery outlining its margins. Like the others, there was no evidence of any invention and it was addressed to Sir Varus.

If Nira had more time, she would have tried to decipher its meaning; the best she could come up with was that it was some sort of certificate or a letter congratulating the diplomat, but time was running out. Sir Varus would be back any moment now, and if she was caught… Nira shuddered at the thought. She carefully shut the chest and clasped the lock with a sinner’s silence, and as per the last instruction Sir Varus left, she rushed to make herself presentable. When he came back, he was none the wiser.