Morning came gently to the royal palace of House Goldenleaf, sunlight spilling over marble spires and trimmed hedges as if the day itself were polite enough not to wake anyone too abruptly.
Oscar emerged from the ground like a secret the palace had tried to forget.
A stone panel beneath a rose arbor slid aside, and he pulled himself up from the hidden tunnel, boots landing softly on damp earth.
He straightened, brushing soil from his sleeves, dark skin catching the early light. His long dreadlocks were tied back tightly, practical rather than stylish, and his yellow eyes flicked over the royal garden with practiced caution.
Still. Quiet. Safe.
Princess Stephanie had shown him the tunnel months ago, laughing as if sneaking beneath the palace walls was a harmless childhood prank rather than treason-adjacent behavior.
Middle children learn where the blind spots are, she'd said.
Oscar resealed the entrance exactly as taught—twist, press, and a soft hum of old stone settling back into place. No trace left behind. He adjusted his hood and slipped into motion.
At six feet tall, Oscar had learned long ago how to make himself smaller. He moved through hedges and side paths with ease, timing his steps between patrols. The guards were changing shifts, armor clinking, attention dulled by routine. No one looked twice at a shadow that knew where it belonged.
Inside the palace, the air smelled of polish, incense, and expensive silence.
He kept to servant corridors, boots whispering against stone as he passed kitchens just beginning to stir. Somewhere bread was baking. Somewhere a bell rang. Somewhere, the princess was definitely still asleep knowing her.
The trouble began at the residential wing.
Oscar stopped in front of a door and frowned, "Was it this one?"
All the doors looked the same—carved wood, gold handles, subtle crests. Royal consistency was the enemy of criminals everywhere. He shrugged and eased the door open just a crack—
—and immediately froze.
Two palace servants were inside, bodies pressed against each other, passionately enjoying each other company and very surprised to see a dark half-elf peeking in.
Oscar did not scream. He did not comment.
He nodded once, respectful, and quietly closed the door again, sealing the moment back inside as if it had never happened.
"Wrong one," he muttered, moving further down the corridor.
The next door, Oscar tried had scuff marks near the bottom, like someone kicked it open when annoyed.That felt familiar.
He slipped inside and closed it behind him.
Princess Stephanie Goldenleaf lay sprawled across her bed, golden-blonde hair spilling over the pillows and down the side like molten sunlight.
Even asleep, she took up space—short limbs, adolescent frame, utterly unbothered by royal posture. Her eyes were closed, face peaceful in a way it rarely was when she was awake.
Oscar crossed the room, and taking out a small coin out his pocket. Flicking it with the thumb and index finger, it landed square on her forehead.
She groaned. "If that's you, Elias, prepare to die a miserable death, you annoying brat." She said through half snarls and grogginess.
"Oh,come on...dont be that way." Oscar said mockingly. "You don't have to be so ,cranky."
One green eye opened, then the other.
She smiled instantly. "Oscar you, idiot, " she said, voice still thick with sleep. "You're so early," yawning like a bear straight out of hibernation.
"You gave me the tunnel,remember, " he replied. "That is on you, its not my fault that it takes less time to get here now." He teased.
Getting up wait a stretch, slumped over hair shifting and disheveled. "Did anyone see you," asking through another yawn.
Only two people who won't make eye contact with me for the rest of their lives if they don't want their wives knowing." He sowled recounting his small trek there.
She laughed, soft and genuine, at his misfortune. "But you should be more careful, I can't risk my father's guards spotting my favorite, dealer."she said.
"Hmph... I'm your only dealer." He reached into his, Bag of Holding and produced a small wrapped bundle. "Important question, Princess." Her eyes sharpened with interest.
"Wake and bake?" he asked.
She grinned. "Absolutely. I have a full schedule of disappointing nobles ,so I want to start the day off right. "Oscar tossed the bundle onto the bed and moved to lock the door.
Sunlight filtered through the curtains, illuminating a room that felt more lived-in than royal—books stacked unevenly, boots discarded carelessly, a life half-lived between obligations.
As smoke slowly curled into the air, Stephanie leaned back against the bed's headboard, studying him.
"You ever think about leaving?" she asked casually.
"All the time," Oscar said, exhaling. "Kingdoms are just cages with stupid rules and well hidden bars ,if you know where to look. I prefer freedom."
She nodded, Oscar ,not knowing how much she resonated with those words, eyes distant.
Outside, the palace woke fully—bells, footsteps, voices layering into the machinery of rule.
Inside, a princess and a dark half-elf started the day their own way, wrapped in smoke and shared silence, unaware of how close the world was to changing.
Morning, after all, was only the beginning.