His POV.

I climb the steps of the dilapidated building. Might be falling at the foundation but, hey if it collapses when I'm in it, that won't exactly be a tragedy.

Don't look at me like that. I won't go looking for death but if it decides to come get me, why not?

Abu is the only thing I brought with me to the city when my father died and that's franky because he has legs. My father was a collector of odd things, including living ones and had bought him from a circus. The monkey's basically my best friend.

My distant aunt took one look at eleven year old me and decided I could live on my own with just the clothes on my back -and the very expensive, antique necklace I took from Dad's collection but she didn't know that.

Maybe she was right, it's been seven years and I haven't looked back. I'm surviving.

•°•°•

Her POV.

I know men are a little more...  prone to suggestion after drinking. So I brought the guards that I need to bypass a bottle.

But like the good workers they are-- I really appreciate them-- they only take two, two and three glasses.

I smirk from behind the corner.  The alcohol content in one glass will be able to get an elephant tipsy.

"Good evening again, gentlemen. Did the drinks help pass the hour?"

"It's been a hour?" One of them asks. He's the least drunk since it's only been ten minutes.

"It should be more than that," another replies. Ah, three shots talking. 

"I think we're drunk. I'm sorry,  Princess," guard number three answers. Of course, they'd never suspect me.

"Well then, why don't you both, "I say pointing to him and the first guy, "go get your replacements. Tell them it's a plea from the princess to man their posts early. "

I make sure to leave the most drunk still by the door.

"Thank you Princess. I know that our actions are supposed to have consequences. It won't happen again. "

"See that it doesn't."

When the man staggers out of sight holding on to his silent companion, I turn to the guard who's brown eyes- a trait we have in common- are drooping. "I'll be going to my room now. "

"Alright Princess," he yawns.

I walk past him to the garden. Before they'll realize it, I'll be long gone. I've spent time watching their formation, working out a way round it. My pet offers his head for me to step on to get myself on and,  ultimately, over the fence.

It's quite difficult. My slippers keep slipping off, I have to be careful about keeping on the brown headscarf which keeps my black long hair hidden as well as be as silent as possible so as not to alert anyone to what I'm doing.

After a long look at his gorgeous face, my feet go over and touch on the pre prepared landing. The realization and sun hits me; I'm out of the palace.

•°•°•

His POV.

I like to refer to it as creating opportunities. For a person like me, we can't afford to have just one.

Really, if you see a man decked in expensive silk from head to toe except for his fingers wearing seven rings -who needs that many rings?!- and you know a particularly hungry boy that just one of them would feed into next month, what would you do?

Nothing? Really? Then, Uh, yeah, that's what I did too.

But, if one aforementioned ring just happened to slip off his fat finger- with difficulty, might I add- and fall into your pocket then what would you do?

Accept your luck right?

And seems he was already careless. There's a vivid ruby crystal a little ways from his leather covered feet.