Diamonds and Nicotine

Stiletto heels clicked sharply against the hard ground as the thief moved, the evening breeze brushing against bared legs and lifted the dark chiffon fabric of her gown’s tail. Noir ran with urgency in her pace, trying to make up for the lost time as she headed towards the servant’s quarters. No doubt that her five minutes were already up, and the shift change was already in process.

Three-minute window. Two minutes to kill.

The words pushed her forward, urging her to move faster. She must be a strange sight for anyone that may have been around to see; a lady of slender build running ever so boldly in her contradicting formal attire as if she was running for her life. But she couldn’t have cared less.

Noir adjusted her grip on her clutch and mask as she continued to run.
It wasn’t anxiousness or even fear that drove her quick strides, no. It was a resolve of sorts, a certain determination.

She was going to get what she was after, and what she wanted was answers.

The entrance to the servant’s quarters was in sight now and Noir made a beeline for it. As she approached the gate she got a better look at the threshold, and it brought her to a quick halt.

In the doorway, attached to the old stone wall was a series of thin wiring and at the end of it was a small device that was jammed in the corner of the hinges. The device stood out; a piece of modern times looking displaced against everything else that was old, and Noir was quick to identify what it was.
The thief hummed thoughtfully, as she quickly assessed the doorway. She expected something like this from someone as paranoid as LeBlanc, placing a trigger switch on the doors.

The set up seemed simple but just a glance wasn’t enough to figure out exactly what the trigger switch was wired to do if activated--- she had seen its use in a wide range; from a motion-light sensor to a bomb detonation. Handling the device posed possibilities of hassles.
She only took a few seconds before opting to bypass the door. Standing on the side of caution this time was best, as she was already short on time. But that meant finding another way in.

Mademoiselle Noir turned away from the door and continued to follow the perimeter of the walls, searching for a way in. She didn’t travel far for her to find one option, but it was far from ideal.
She found herself in another garden similar to the one Ace had brought her to. A pavilion stood in a distance in the middle of the cleanly cut grass, the wide clearing framed by trimmed shrubbery of odd symmetry. On the wall there were a number of colorful banners that bore a fancy looking crest in its design and reached from the balcony all the way to the ground. And the balcony just so happened to be exactly where Noir wanted to be.

The time limit loomed over her and she was all too aware that her window of opportunity was quickly closing. Noir fought the urge to sigh out as she eyed the banner closest to her.

She was beginning to regret choosing her favorite stiletto heels.



“Great party, as promised, Tristan.”

Tristan LeBlanc smiled, quiet pride blooming inside his chest as he shook hands with yet another satisfied dignitary. He exchanged a few words before moving on, keeping his pace casual down the brightly lit halls. Laughter and music filled the space as it danced through the festive air, colorful masks and dressed painting the scene in lavish colors of gold, silver and all colors in between. Everything was going smoothly, and the night was just beginning.
The proud jeweler continued his walk around his party, keeping a watchful eye on the dance floor. A quick look around and he was secretly pleased to see that he was the best-dressed. And a great sight he was--- his double-breasted swallowtail coat of luxurious black velvet with intricate gold filigree stitching set him apart from the crowd as the regal king of the occasion. But of course, it would be a shame if the king of the masquerade was not properly dressed the part.
Another pair of aristocrats approached him to congratulate him on a successful event. Leblanc simply nodded his head in acknowledgement and a quick thank you as he carried on his light stroll.

The crowd in the plaza was a scene of beauty; the variety of colors and texture from the formally dressed ladies and classily suited gentlemen filled came together in a festive masterpiece. This masquerade gala party was a great success.

LeBlanc couldn’t help the smile that tugged at the corner of his mouth behind his full Venetian masquerade mask.
What a perfect distraction. he thought. A perfect decoy.

“Not dancing tonight, Monsieur?”

Reflexively LeBlanc stiffened at the cool and smooth tone of amusement, a voice he had come to hate. Slowly, LeBlanc turned and sure enough saw Ace of Spades stood, one shoulder leaning against the wall. His whole posture was relaxed and carefree, and that smirk on his face that infuriated him.
God he hated him.
Ace tilted his head slightly like a curious child, his sharp gaze not leaving his contractor once.
“I could lead you through the Waltz, if you’d like.” he said.

LeBlanc glared at him, any sense of enjoyment long gone.
“Didn’t you have a dance partner you were after?” he spat at him.

Ace shrugged, pushing himself off of the wall. He straightened his suit and readjusted his blood-red tie.
“I did.” he agreed, pulling his mask off his face. “We danced one hell of an Argentine. But she wasn’t feeling well so unfortunately we didn’t share another dance.”

LeBlanc huffed, turning away from the mercenary. He turned the corner into a hall leading away from the party.
“Then the job better be done by now.” he muttered under his breath, keeping the conversation private. “I will not have all those months of preparation be for nothing.”

“Everything is taken care of.” Ace reassured. “As long as you didn’t miss anything all is in its place.”
When LeBlanc turned to give him an angry glare he raised his hands up in a defensive gesture.
“Hey, my duty is to follow your orders to the last letter, no more, no less.” the hired hand chuckled, amused at how hot-tempered his contractor was.

“And so it better be.” the jeweler spat lowly. The pair fell quiet as a few party attendants walked by, a silent nod of acknowledgement exchanged as they continued on their way. After being certain that they were finally out of earshot, LeBlanc spoke again.
“And what about that wench? Did you get anything from her pretty assistant?” he asked.
They were outside now, away from the courtyard. There was no one around to be seen, giving the two men some privacy.

“Nothing that would be useful to you,” Ace said. “I think it’s time to go straight to the source.”

LeBlanc grunted, turning to the nearest flowerbed. He plucked a single iris flower from the garden and tucked it into his lapel.
“Then go.” LeBlanc ordered. “Get me what I need.”

Ace of Spades straightened his suit and adjusted his mask back over his eyes.
“With the amount of drinks Madame Valerio has consumed tonight, coaxing a secret or two would be too easy.” he said.

“You say that but you don’t know Vivienne.” LeBlanc warned. “That bitch is one smart snake if anything. She might turn and strike before you even realize it.”

To that Ace smirked, and LeBlanc couldn’t read the mercenary’s expression. Somehow the seemingly warm expression sent chills down the jeweler’s spine.

“Then it’s a good thing that I am very charming.” Ace replied.