After carefully shutting the study door and creeping through the utter black to reach the bedroom door, Safi paused. She listened. The noises from within had shifted to feminine, which, although more palatable, were still more than Safi wanted to hear.

Perhaps even more uncomfortable was the fact that nothing in the Truth-lens hummed false. The woman on the other side of this door—his mistress Paskella—was genuinely enjoying herself with the Emperor. She was fully absorbed in her pleasure, and Safi hoped that meant Henrick was too.

With the lightest of fingers and slowest of movements, Safi turned the knob and squeezed back the door. An inch. Then two. Then three—enough to give her a full view of the space beyond.

It was not so different from Leopold’s chamber: four-poster bed, fireplace (unlit), a single armchair. Heavy black velvet and glistening red brocades gleamed in the dim light of Firewitched sconces turned low. On the bed, two figures moved with great energy and surprising athleticism. They were, as Safi had hoped, wholly invested in each other. Where are their clothes? Safi thought, biting her lip. Henrick and his mistress must have undressed somewhere. The belt had to be near.

Then Safi spotted a haphazard heap beside the fireplace and pushed into the room, her eyes never leaving the thick curtains around the bed that hid Henrick and his mistress. Safi’s brain would at least be spared that imagery.

She kept her posture low and her footsteps quick until she reached the armchair. Then she dropped to her knees and studied the heap. It was indeed the discarded garments of the Emperor, and after rummaging through the pile she found Henrick’s belt.

She pulled it to her, head briefly hanging back. Success tasted so good. Even better than she remembered. Within seconds, she had the golden chain off and replaced by the one she’d obtained today in Praga. They were not identical, but a cursory glance wouldn’t reveal the differences. Besides, the Emperor in his hubris would never expect her to steal his chain.

It took Safi longer to pry the Threadstones loose. Henrick had had them stamped into the leather, and she lacked decent tools to wedge the rubies free. Eventually, though, with enough prying and pulling, the two Thread-bound rocks popped loose.

And oh, how Safi smiled then.

She shoved both stones into her pocket along with the golden Hell-Bard chain, and withdrew two new uncut rubies. These were a much closer match to the originals than the chain was. Safi had touched her own Threadstone so many times, she’d known exactly what she was looking for while she, Svenja, and Nika had gone from shop to shop.