Zenith had spent most of the ball cultivating the duchess, dancing almost every dance with her, paying her vapid compliments and charming the pants…or shall we say the garters and silk stockings…off her. Fortunately…thanks to the powder he emptied into her champagne…he was not forced to accompany her to her bedroom. Rather, he waited until all the lights were out in the house. Then he climbed in through the bedroom window, which location he had learned by romancing one of the maids, in the guise of a dairyman.
When he arrived in the boudoir of the duchess, he first took a moment to assure himself that the drug had worked. Once he was satisfied that she was happily snoring, he rifled her jewelry drawer. It never failed to amuse and amaze him, how careless the exorbitantly wealthy could be with their valuables…
His pockets filled with diamonds and emeralds…he detested rubies…he headed back toward the open window. But as he reached the curtain, he stepped upon…something…heard a sound like a little squeak, and saw a form outlined in the billowing organza.
“…Interesting,” he commented, amused. “I had heard this house was supposed to be haunted. But I had not imagined it was possible to actually step on a ghost’s foot…”
“Dammit,” Cera hissed, still not coming into view as she leaned against the window frame to nurse her throbbing bare foot. And her feet already hurt- heels were her kryptonite. “I should have brought a change of shoes- not that it matters, you got here first, probably didn’t leave me anything good.” She wandered over to the dresser now, smirking. “Aw, now, rubies are nice, what do you have against those?” She appeared, still in her dress she had worn to the ball, and shoved the rubies into her pockets, along with a silk bra because they seemed to be about the same size and damn that was fine looking.
“Luckily, I really needed this” she tiptoed over to the sleeping dutchess and slipped a notebook- certainly a diary- out from under her pillow. “Someone was willing to pay me good money for this. I declined, but decided to get it myself, because I was dying to know. Does she have dirt on someone important? Does someone important have dirt on her?” She tilted her head. “I’m assuming you’re cool; I mean we’re after similar things, I don’t need you ratting me out. The invisibility is also super hard to explain away, so…” she held up the diary. “Wanna go read this?”