"You told me you'd put my cut in the drawer," es a harsh whisper from a few feet away. "Well, I looked all through the damn desk, and I didn't see a thing."

  I perk up immediately. Now this sounds iing. I listen as closely as possible, making sure not to betray my i in any hysically, keeping my body rexed and expression vat.

  "Maybe you just didn't look hard enough," replies a sed voice, slow and sinister. "I put it there myself. I don't believe I appreciate what you're insinuating here…"

  "I'm not," the first man walks back, "insinuating anything, all right? I just… didn't see it the first time. I looked for the false bottom ihird drawer, and there was nothing."

  "Did you press the button uhe desktop?"

  Silenbsp; Then,

  "No. I didn't."

  More silence, for lohis time. I picture the sean's expression in my mind's eye with perfect crity, even though I have no idea what he looks like.

  The first speaks up again.

  "I didn't know-"

  "Shut up," the sed interrupts coldly. "And think twice before you speak to me in public again."

  For the whole versation, I kept my head fag forward, not letting on that I even noticed they were there. But when I hear two sets of footsteps walking away, I risk a gnce.

  Luckily, they're both looking around the rest of the room for eavesdroppers, not behind them. Because of all the time I've spent listening in on every versation every m, I reize one of them immediately by the brown saddle markings on his scales – he's a high ranking financial minister named Sulfeng. Sulfeng isn't particurly outspoken pared to other ministers, aends to go along with popur opinion in the versations I've listened in on. Somehow I'm not surprised to learn he's itting some kind of fraud.

  The other man is someone I don't reize, but I take note of his appearance: bck with thin white stripes runniically down his bad his limbs. It shouldn't be terribly hard to find out his name if I ask the right people.

  And, I think eagerly, I kly who to ask.

  This brief destine versation has gotten me exceptionally excited. Political intrigue? Embezzlement? Secret drawers full of illicitly acquired cash? It's making my heart pound. I have to go iigate. I 't just tell someone what I heard, of course – the only person of political sequence who would even listen to me is Khysmet, and I doubt he would take it seriously without some actual proof doing. But I have no iion of letting this go.

  So, I figure I better go get some actual proof.

  The sed I hear the bells toll eleven, I run up to ask Khysmet if he wants my pany after his meetings today.

  "Well," he says, looking a tad surprised to see me ing at him so animated, "I was thinking of spending my afternoon in the library, so yes."

  "Would it be okay if I meet you there?" I ask. "I might be a little te, but I'll get there as soon as I ."

  He cocks an eyebrow at me quizzically.

  "Got some urgent matters to attend to, do you?"

  I narrow my eyes defiantly. "You say that like I couldn't possibly, but believe it or not, I do."

  His smile is that of someone indulging a child's fantasies, and I resist the urge to stomp my foot and pout so as not to plete the image.

  "Very well then," he says. "See to yent matters a me in the library when you're done. I'll allow it this time."

  "Oh I'm so eternally grateful to receive your permission, yrace," I say and curtsey deeply. "Please tio shower me in your favor, I beseech you."

  I've beeing more eborate with my sarcasm over the weeks.

  “Have fun,” he says, and pats me on the head.

  I don't move to stop him anymore. No matter how hard I try, I always just end up embarrassing myself, so better to just let him do it.

  I tell him I'll see him ter and run off to start my inquisition.

  ******

  I only have to talk to two attending servants to find out that bck-with-white-stripes guy is a scribe named Rolf who works in the financial sector copying records for analysis and distribution. Trianguting the location of the desk they spoke of is going to be a bit trickier, though.

  I reason it must be one of Sulfeng's desks, either in his office or his bedroom, because I ’t imagine he would put ill-gotten funds in a desk for public use lest it be discovered by act. It's uhat it's in Rolf's desk if he didn't know how to open the false bottom in the drawer. I 't rule out the possibility, since he might have been given a desk by his superior or something, but I also don't think a superior would give him a fancy desk with an eborate meism in the first pbsp; So, it’s either in Sulfeng's office or his bedroom.

  Problem is, I have no idea where either of those are.

  I o be discreet about how I go about finding this information. The attending servants have exceptionally loose lips, and if anyone finds out I'm snooping around, it could easily get back to Sulfeng.

  I start by asking where the financial offices are, figuring that's innocuous enough. Thankfully, today is Wednesday, the day of the week that Khysmet meets with the finance ministers. Plus, it's lunch time, meaning that most people will be out finding food. There's only one scribe eating at his desk when I walk in.

  "Hello," I greet him brightly when I walk in. I figure it would look more suspicious if I don't.

  "Oh… hello Miss Catarina," he says. "Is there something you need?"

  I’m not surprised he knows who I am, but I wish he didn’t. It highlights the fact that my being an obviously different race from everyone else in the castle puts me at a disadvantage if I want to sneak around.

  "I was just expl the castle," I reply with as muonce as I . "Most of the time I stay away from this area, si's usually full of people. I noticed it's pretty empty today, though."

  I wander around the room, pretending to look around aimlessly. The scribe keeps an eye o doesn’t question my presence further.

  It's fairly clear which desks belong to the ministers, sihey're much bigger and on a raised ptform, easily seen from the rest of the room. I hop onto the ptform and immediately know the desk I'm looking for isn't here. Not a single one of these desks has a third drawer, just very rge sed ones. It has to be the one in Sulfeng's room. I thank the gods that I don't have to hang around feeling for hidden buttons in front of this scribe who's watg me ily as I try not to look like I'm snooping for anything specifibsp; I hop down away from the ministers' desks and keep walking around the room like I’m really just ied in cheg out the whole pce.

  When I start toug things on random scribes' desks, he all but begs me to leave, a request I'm happy to ply with, apologizing for b him on my way out.

  , I find someone and ask who Sulfeng's attending servant is, saying I have something I just have to tell her and implying that it's extremely juicy gossip. I'm happy to find that it's someone I get along with, a young woman named e. I'm over the moon when I'm told that she's in Sulfeng's rht now, and I get pointed in the exact right dire.

  "e!" I call out when I see her leaving a room with a cart of ing supplies.

  "Oh hey, Cat," she greets me, cheery as be. "What's up?"

  "I was just looking for you," I say. "Are you busy ing Sulfeng's room? Should I e back ter?"

  "No, I just finished up."

  I cheer ecstatically in my head, make a mental note of which door she just came out of, then offer to walk with her on her way back to put the cart away. I follow her around for about twenty minutes or so, telling her some tidbit of gossip I haven't spread arou. I pray that she doesn't ask me why I wao tell it to her specifically. She doesn't. Once we're far away enough from Sulfeng's room and there's a suitable spot to end the versation, I say goodbye to her arace my steps.

  It's almost two by this point, so Khysmet's meeting with the ministers of finance are definitely over – or at least they will be soon. Sulfeng could very well be ba his room at this point. It's more likely he'll be in his office, though. I hope.

  I kno his door, loud enough that if he's inside he'll definitely hear it, then duck around the er into a different hallway. After a couple minutes without the sound of an opening door or someone asking "who's there", I go back to his door, open it myself, and slip inside.

  The yout of this room is more or less the same as my own, and the desk is pinly in view right upoering the room. Guess what? Three drawers.

  I walk over and kneel down to look uhe desktop, feeling around for a button. And there it is, pin as day under my fiips. A quick click, and there's the sound of something moving on one of the drawers. The third one, in fact.

  I open it. There's the money, pin as day. Mission aplished. I close the false bottom again, and move to make my exit.

  Then it occurs to me that if the money is still there, Rolf hasn't e to pick it up. The sed this thought fshes through my mind, I hear a kno the door.

  I look around the room frantically. Should I hide in the wardrobe? Or uhe bed? I go for the bed, even though it's a bit further away – no creaky doors.

  The bed is plenty high up off the floor – perfee to scuttle underh it – and there's a skirt around the mattress that hides me from sight pletely. By the time I hear the door open, all the fabric I moved on my way here has settled down.

  "Did you press the button uhe thing?" Rolf mutters to himself in a viciously mog tone as he walks into the room. "Of course I didn't press the fug button you ky old lizard. Nobody told me about a fug button. Nobody tells me shit."

  I hear him jostling the desk, feeling around for the button and cursing more and more with each passing sed that he 't find it. It takes a while. Eventually, though, I hear the little click, and he cheers in triumph.

  There's the king sound of s. I imagine he's ting it out to make sure it's all there.

  Miick by, and I get impatient very quickly. Isn't he with the finance sector? He should be faster at ting mohan this.

  Eventually though, he seems satisfied. He opens the door and walks out, his footsteps eg down the hallway until the door closes all the way and I 't hear them anymore.

  I peek out from uhe bed just barely, trying to move the fabric as little as possible. I don't see a. Exhaling a tense sigh of relief, I e out from uhe bed and all but sprint to the door.

  I open it as quietly as I and peer out into the hallway. I don't see Rolf, but I do see someone much worse.

  Sulfeng himself is walking down toward me at the far end of the hall. He's a long way down, but he could easily see me if I were to e out of his room. I feel sweat bead on my forehead. Has he already noticed his own door opening?

  I look more closely and notice that he's reading from something while he walks, presumably some sort of paperwork. He's not looking up. I'm not pletely fucked yet, but I have to act fast.

  I make a break for it, dug around the nearby er as fast as I without making noise, letting the door close on its own behind me so that by the time it makes a sound, I won't be visible to Sulfeng.

  I stay perfectly still and listen. The door closes. Footsteps are still approag. They don't get faster or slower, which I take to be a good sign. I wonder if I should walk around the er nontly, hoping he sees me ing from somewhere other than his room and decides I couldn't have been in there. It would probably be better to save that tactic for in case I see someone e down the currently empty hallway that I'm in right now, though.

  His footsteps are regur the whole way down. At the st sed, it occurs to me that he might not even be going to his room, and I panibsp; It only sts a moment though, as I immediately hear his door open and shut before I have the slightest ce to do something stupid.

  Deep breaths. In. Out. Walk at a normal speed toward the library. I turn to an imaginary audiend bow.

  We pulled it off, folks.