Oden stared at the computer screen, the sound of their lecturer droning in the background as they clicked around articles in a separate web browser. "Unrest in the city rises as…" "public libraries to close after king bonedarte passes new…" "ten signs you're meant to join the Shepherds."

"Boooorrreeeedd…" the prince whined with a big yawn, "bored, boring, bored…" after hours of online classes, all Oden wanted was an end to the monotony, a little excitement to shake up their day. The walls of their room felt closer and smaller with each passing day, and though Oden was getting bigger, they too couldn't help but to feel even smaller. Taking a break from the internet, they pulled out a small black bottle hidden away in their desk drawer, and began to paint their nails, while drowning out their professor's voice with an aggressive melody playing in their headphones. 

"That will be all for today, be certain to review chapters five through nine before next week," the instructor wrapped up their lesson, "understood, prince Bonedarte?" He waited a moment for a response before raising his voice, "Prince Bonedarte, did you hear me?"

"Ah, yes, I heard you sir," they quickly switched their browser back to the video lecture, unmuting their mic, "I will make sure to read the material, yes."

"Prince Bonedarte, why is your camera not on?"

"Sorry professor, my webcam broke and I will not have a new one for another couple of days," 

"You would think the king would have provided better equipment for his son's education," the old professor let out a heavy sigh, "it is what it is, just be certain this does not happen again."

"Of course, not sir, I will make sure of it," satisfied with the prince's answer, the video call ended.

With a sigh, Oden stood up to stretch before collapsing back into their computer chair. Relieved that class was over, their boredom was replaced with a new sense of absolute pointlessness as they opened a new tab and continued browsing mindlessly, till a knock at their door sent them into a brief panic.

"May I come in, Oden?" Their caretaker called from outside the door.

"Yes, you can come in, Nioto," their heart rate slowed back to a normal pace at the sound of Nioto's voice.

"Oh my, what did your professor think of all this now, love?" Nioto giggled as she opened the door and saw Oden sitting there in front of their computer. "Isn't makeup against regulations?"

"My webcam is broken, so he did not see me," Oden sunk into their chair, turning their head away from her.

"Hmm, strange, I was pretty certain it was working only yesterday," she leaned over and took hold of their computer mouse. With a couple of clicks she had opened a window, a grainy image of the two of them staring back on the screen, "ahah, working like a charm.'

Oden curled their knees to their chest and hid their face, "I am sorry, I just…"

"Sweetie, you don't have to apologize to me, I perfectly understand," she tousled the prince's hair, "and besides, your makeup looks great, so why would I be mad?"

"Quinn helped me with it," they sniffled, "I did not want to remove it, so I just figured I could turn off my webcam and the professor would not notice."

“My little Quinn, always getting you into trouble,” Nioto shook her head, “she makes me so proud,” pretending to wipe tears from her eyes, she stuck her tongue out playfully. “Don’t worry sweetie, there’s nothing wrong with you wearing a little eyeliner or mascara.”

Oden placed their feet back on the ground, opening up from their guarded posture, and smiled a small sweet smile, “what about the eyeshadow though, is it too much?”

Nioto pursed her lips and examined the prince closely, “tsk, tsk, tsk, I thought I taught Quinn better than that,”

“Is it that bad?”

“Too much black, you look a little bit like a racoon,” she chuckled, “an adorable racoon, of course.”

“Oh, I like black though,” the prince lowered their chin to their chest, wishing to hide inside their shirt.

“Yes, I’ve seen how the boys in your bands wear their makeup, but perhaps you might want to try a different color,” she tapped her finger to her chin, “hmmm, maybe start with a light blue base, then blend it into a dark purple color closer to your eyelids, and line it with black.”

Oden looked closely at the video feed on their monitor, using it as a poor replacement for a mirror, “that could work, it would still be dark and so it would not clash with my clothes too much.”

The caretaker snapped her fingers with a big smile, “exactly, it would look really cute on you,” she looked around Odens desk, before asking, “where do you keep your makeup removing wipes, love?”

“I typically just use a wet rag, I did not know they made wipes for it,”

“Then I shall buy you some,” she shook her head, “can’t let that ornery old man catch even a hint of makeup on you, after all.”

Just the mere thought of their father discovering them sent a cold tingle down their spine, “I suppose it is a risk to wear makeup,” they curled their legs up to their chest once again, “but it makes me happy, so I am willing to take the risk.”

“I’ll go ahead and make a list of supplies you will need, of course I will have to pay for these ones out of my own pocket, easier to keep it from your father that way,” Nioto grabbed a notepad by the computer and tore a piece of paper from it, “anything else you would like, love?”

“To go out and buy my own supplies,” the prince clicked their tongue.

“I’m sorry sweetie, you know I can’t bring you into the city,”

“It has been four years, I am not a child anymore, I can protect myself,” they huffed.

Nioto placed her hands and their shoulders and spoke softly, “I know it is rough being confined to the manor like this, but it is for your own safety, love. It would break my heart if anything were to happen to you.”

“I am not even the one who was abducted, should you not be more concerned for Quinn?”

“She was taken because they mistook her for you,” Nioto said firmly, “you are the prince, and it is my duty to keep you safe.”

“And I trust you to do so, that is why I am asking you to bring me with you,” they scowled at her.

“You are a very stubborn boy,” arguing with a royal was a difficult task, even more daunting when with a nearly teenaged royal, still Nioto was not one to back down from her convictions, “do well on your next test, then we can go on a trip to the city together and visit that bakery you used to like.” 

Oden’s brows unfurrowed and their lips uncurled, “fine, that is an acceptable condition I suppose.”

“Good, then for the time being, what would you like me to bring you?” She leaned over the desk, picked up a pen and prepared to make a list.

“Now that you mention the bakery, perhaps some bonbons?” 

She smiled and wrote down the prince's request, “makeup wipes, a new eyeshadow pallet, and some bonbons. Am I missing anything?”

“A new father would be nice,”

“Unfortunately there’s a shortage of good men in the city, trust me love, I looked.” she chuckled.

“Fair enough, the one I already have is perhaps one too many,” 

“My, my, my, Oden, what ever happened to my sweet little boy?”

“I am not too certain he ever existed,” Oden whispered, “Nioto, could I ask you something?”

“Of course you can, I am here to help you my sweet little prince,” she shined a sweet loving smile at them as she looked them deep in their mismatched eyes.

“Could you not call me things like ‘little boy’ or ‘prince’?”

She tilted her head, “then what would you like for me to call you, sweetie?”

“Sweetie is fine, and Odie is also acceptable,” Oden nodded, “just, nothing that implies I am… nothing that sounds so…” they weren’t really sure how to articulate it, so they simply left it at that.

Nioto stood back up and gave Oden a firm pat on the head, “I understand, sweetie, trust me, I understand better than most could.” She folded the list and stowed it in her pocket, “I’ll be going out to the city now, do me a favor and watch Quinn for me?”

“Okay, I can do that,” Oden affirmed, and so Nioto left with a smile. Alone once again, the young royal sighed before returning to their computer, aimlessly browsing the web.

***

The lock was a bit tricky, tricky enough to break three picks before Isa had finally gotten the tumblers to turn how she wanted them to, opening the door that kept her away from her prize. “Pay dirt,” she smirked as she stepped inside the currently empty storage unit. The room was rather big but felt small with how jammed full it was. Everything there was useless garbage, or at least seemed that way, but there had to be something hidden amongst the heaps. She rummaged through piles of literal trash, looking for some kind of score. 

"Gaaah! Worthless, it's all just worthless," she kicked a pile of boxes as she let out a frustrated growl, knocking over a small container and spilling its contents to the ground. “Oh, wuz this?” sifting through the freshly dropped items, she found a couple diamond rings and a ruby earring mixed in a mess of tarnished silver chains and other useless pieces of jewelry. “Okay, okay, I can probably sell this, so not a total loss.” Pleasantly satisfied, and not wishing to push her luck any further she dashed out of the dirty storage unit sneaking her way out of the complex and worked her way into a passing crowd of pedestrians. 

  A fuzzy eared man grumbled as he looked over her stolen goods, assessing their value, “seventeen Ides for the rings, and six for the earring,” he grunted.

“That’s it? Come on, can’t you do better than that?” she protested, “that barely buys me a bag of apples.”

“Then buy cheaper apples, I don’t know what to tell you kid. This stuff is crap,” he barked back at her.

“Come on Akarie, couldn’t you make it like an even twenty-five at least?”

He grumbled some more, twitching his bushy mustache, then sighed, “promise you’ll bring something better next time,” he counted out twenty-five Ides and handed them over, “and make sure you don’t come in here when there’s Shepherds around. I don’t need them knowing I do business with demons.”

“Yeah, don’t worry, I know,” she took the money and smirked, “don’t wanna ruin the reputation of your legitimate business after all.”

“We provide a valuable service,” the old man huffed, “Akarie’s Emporium is as legitimate as it gets.” 

“Sure thing,” she laughed and skittered off with the money.

“Dumb kid, better not get herself caught,” he shook his head and began to polish the jewelry.

Skipping happily to the nearest corner store, she tried doing some quick mental math, “lock picks cost fifteen a for a pack of five, I lost three, but I made twenty-five, so then I got more money than I spent. Nice~” She was proud of her work, the moral high ground she once felt she stood on had collapsed many years ago, but she was a kid and that didn’t matter anymore. Survival trumped all else, worrying about stealing from others would only hold her back, and besides, those storage units were practically abandoned, it would be a waste to let valuables just rot in a box like that. It was her public service, a civic duty, but most of all it was survival. 

To say stealing food from shops and cutting out the middleman was easier was a given, but actually being welcomed in stores was just over all an easier way to live. Once she made it to her favorite little shop, she grabbed a few apples and a can of tuna with some crackers, then made her way to the counter.

“That’s gonna be twenty six ides,” the cashier told her.  

“What? Apples are only supposed to be five a pop though!”   

“Food tax went up kid, I don’t know what to tell you,” they shrugged, “got an issue with the prices you can shop elsewhere.”

“I thought the food tax was only on prepared foods though?”

“New laws, everythings gettin taxed now.”

Isa huffed, crossed her arms, and sighed in resignation, “fine, take off an apple then.” 

She pursed her lips and left the shop with her bag of food. It wasn’t much, but it would atleast get her through a day or two. “Guess it was a good thing I pocketed this,” she cracked a willey grin as she pulled another couple of apples from her pockets and threw them in her bag, “guess I gotta stick to my roots, huh?” Her immediate concerns were not too grand, though she was worried about things to come. If even a simple apple cost seven Ides, then how much more would everything else start to cost? Sure she could just swipe a few extra wallets, but it wasn’t as easy as when she was small, four years saw a lot of growth for her, and she no longer blended in so easily in a crowd. Not like she ever truly blended in. Her clothes may have been a little ratty, but they were nothing compared to how they looked before Jojo had mended them, but still, people were less likely to turn a blind eye to the antics of a teen than they were a starving child.

Pickpocketing was dangerous, definitely, yet despite her worries, that didn’t stop her from trying. “Spot your mark,” the first step Reks taught her. “Tight pants, no visible purse, not a good target,” she thought as she scanned the pedestrians around her, “he’s got several bags, would be hard for him to chase me if I snatched one, but also they’re big and noticeable. No good,” she continued to search for an easy target, “whoa, wait, did she just step outta some kinda limo?” She stopped in her tracks and watched as a silver haired woman stopped in front of a closed down bakery. They just stood there, shaking her head in disappointment, then pulled out a phone and made a call.    

“Alright, she’s distracted, and conveniently right outside my home,” Isa snickered, “probably got a fat wallet too.” She casually walked towards the wealthy looking woman, keeping her head low as she came up behind her. She got close enough to hear a little bit of the woman's conversation, then quickly snagged a wallet from her still open purse. Easy, she thought, until the woman's hand snatched her wrist at lightning speed.

“Excuse me child, but that belongs to me,” she held Isa’s arm tightly, “be a good girl and return it.” Her tone was even and cool, not at all as harsh as one would expect. 

Quivering, Isa tried to respond, “I…Uh…” she froze up, speechless, her brain scrambling to figure out what to say, what to do.

Turning her head to the thieving girl, the woman gasped letting go of her hand, “it’s you!” With her hand free, Isa sprinted away without a second thought, turning around the corner as the woman called out, “no wait, don’t run!” Isa did not listen, and scrambled behind the bakery, slipping through some loose boards that covered a broken window. 

With Isa out of sight, the woman groaned before remembering she was on a phone call, “I’m so sorry Oden, it looks like they closed down the bakery, I won’t be able to buy you those bonbons after all.”