After avoiding two, three rounds of guards–young knights, eager to do good and rise in the ranks–Nuala climbed up the outer walls until she’d reached the fourth floor. The window had been left unlocked and without a single peep she snuck inside and closed the curtains. Of course there was always the door and the option to come and go like a normal person (and against popular belief, Nuala was given a key with the permission to use it whenever), but she preferred the element of surprise. Jove wasn’t here and likely wouldn’t be for another two hours or so, which gave her plenty of time to take a shower and cozy up at his desk with a glass of merlot. No stray paperwork was left out and almost smugly, the thief pulled out a key (this one she’d taken without his permission, which he without a doubt knew about) and opened that curious drawer on the left, where Jove usually kept some, but not all, of his most interesting cases. Stacks of paper, records and documents were neatly sorted and folded together and after doing a swift scan of all possible options, Nuala picked her evening read.
Two candles had been lit, one at the nightstand next to his bed and one at the table she was now sitting at. The light was dim, but would notify him of her presence once he entered through the main door. A torn up painting, laboriously plucked and glued back together, was propped against the wall just ahead of her and with a smile she took notice that Jove had completed the puzzle without much fuzz. Maybe she would apologize for that one day, but probably not. Nuala’s attention returned to the file in front of her. Technically, this wasn’t even illegal anymore, since she’d left the dark guilds behind and all that. Surely Jove would agree.