Not long asleep, Lillie shifted slightly in her bed, drifting somewhere between dreams and wakefulness. The breeze slipped in through the window above her bed and teased a lock of her hair. Thoughts tumbled through her mind to wake her and the moon shone brightly in the night sky, filtering in and casting a square of silvery light across her. It bathed her closed lids with a brightness that chased away her sleep. Lillie turned her head away, blinking slightly before closing her eyes again. The shadowy shape of a man flickered over her vision and Lillie started to drift back into sleep before it registered.
Slowly, she opened her eyes again and stared into the darkened room, and straight at a man standing just inside the window. He was dressed all in black, obviously so and Lillie knew that meant he had likely been sneaking in for some purpose. For what? To steal from her? To make his way into the Pearl while the Mistress slept and try to get into the safe? A dozen thoughts ran through her head as she simply stared at him.
She hadn’t made a sound and perhaps he hadn’t noticed she was awake, but Lillie didn’t know what to do. In the Alienage no one had ever stolen into her Grandfather’s shack. There would have been nothing of value to take. She sat up slowly, letting the quilt fall away from her as she blinked at the man in the flickering candle light.
The light from the candle cast over him in a pleasing manner, highlighting the shape of his face. The shadows and planes of a man’s body she’d come to know, and appreciated since reaching womanhood. His eyes were deep, unreadable and his jaw shadowed in a pleasing manner.
He was young, like she, but seemed more… worldly somehow, as if he were a dashing and exotic thief stealing into her bedroom in the middle of the night simply to see her. Her cheeks flushed at the romanticized notion. She’d had no romance in her young life, and sometimes her imagination could go wild, but it was easier to imagine him that way instead of someone who might mean her harm. Still, she didn’t think to scream, or call for help. Her eyes slid over him in the low light, as if measuring him.
“What are you doing?” Her voice was low, and her large eyes glowed in the flickering candle light. She wasn’t sure what she meant to do, or why she’d even asked. Would he answer her? Or flee back out the open window? A large part of her hoped that he didn’t.