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The Thief’s visit to Attolia might’ve been a more interesting affair if he’d had an actual reason to be there, but as it was, he was more of a scary prop than anything. Attolis was causing trouble and Eddis wasn’t having it, so he’d brought the Thief of Eddis over to prove a point - a stupid point. The whole affair was rather ridiculous. The Thief could not fathom how his daughter put up with having this fool as a brother-in-law, never having such patience for idiocy.
He was finding ways to entertain himself, observing the court and gathering what intel he could, but it was not the same as having a proper purpose. The truth of it was, he was mostly rather miffed that Eddis valued his time so little. But perhaps the Thief was growing grumpy in his old age.
He’d taken a particular interest in the royal family during this visit, as Attolis so rarely brought his wife and children along on his official visits to Eddis. The heir, sometimes, but never the daughters. Attolis didn’t pay them much attention at all. Iris, the older of the two princesses, seemed more interested in the glitz and glam of court life than the politics; her mother, similarly, seemed most invested in her goblet of wine. It was the youngest daughter, Irene, who intrigued him the most. She was quiet, yes, but clearly observant. He had caught her staring at him a few times with unabashed curiosity, and so he did not hesitate in approaching her one day during a particular boring dinner.
He saw her slip out of the dining room, out towards the gardens - she was not making an effort to detract attention from herself, but hardly anyone was paying much attention to the youngest princess in the first place. He followed her, much sneakier himself, into the palace gardens. She did not go far, only to a bench near the ornate doors. Though she was young, there seemed to be something on her mind.
The Thief had been thinking an awful lot as well lately, in the few years since his youngest grandson had been born. He’d seen it in his eyes, that he would be the next Thief of Eddis. Thus, he’d been wondering about the world his grandson might inherit, what challenges he might face and what people he might know. He sat down next to the Attolian princess and endeavored to learn a bit more about who she actually was, beyond the dresses and polite demeanor.
“Hello.” He’d never been particularly good with kids.
Princess Irene frowned at him. “Hello. Who are you?”
He chuckled. “The Thief of Eddis. And you?”
“Is that your name?” She looked unimpressed, as children often do when interacting with adults who think themselves to be very smart. “My name is Irene.”
“Nice to meet you, Irene.” He paused, wondering briefly if she knew the significance of his title and then deciding that it probably would not matter to her as much as he thought it would either way. “My name is Eugenides.”
She nodded her approval. “Much better than the Thief of Eddis.”
He had to agree, that as far as given names go, the Thief of Eddis would not be a particularly flattering one. She was straightforward, upfront, with the sort of attitude that could make her a cunning figure one day. A good ally. “What brings you out here, Irene?”
She shrugged her shoulders in a way that he suspected her mother would not have approved of. Attolia’s posture was in a perpetual state of stiffness. “I am only thinking. And you?”
The Thief shrugged back at her, then lied. “I am thinking as well,” he said. “You know, a thief’s greatest asset, like a queen’s, is his mind.” He doubted she received much advice along those lines, and hoped it might encourage her.
She didn’t seem to take it much to heart. “I’m a princess, not a queen.”
“Well, you never know what the future might hold.” The Thief rose to his feet and offered her a polite bow. “It was lovely to meet you, Irene.”