The Stage is Set

The Grand Opera & Theater

Dressing Room

THE ROOM inside was small and strikingly messy, although to be fair, it was more passable than the forest of skirts in Lady Kasandra’s dressing room. Racks of jackets hung alongside shelves that spilled over with various props. Several long rapiers leaned against the left wall.

Despite the curious clutter, Zosia’s attention was immediately drawn to the tall figure just a few paces away. The woman’s back was turned as she leaned toward a large trio of mirrors atop a low dresser.

“Not ready, and it’s not time yet!” the actress called. She didn’t turn around. “I’ll be on stage by curtain, as always.”

Although she was wearing a different outfit than the one she had last worn on stage, it was undeniably the actress playing Prince Alexandre. The golden mask was gone and the prince’s ball clothes had been replaced by a costume designed to appear casual but still befitting a prince—a tasseled jacket and tight black leggings with knee-high riding boots. She wore everything like it had been custom-made for her, and, Zosia imagined, it likely had been. Thinking of her standard uniform with its too-long sleeves, Zosia tried not to feel self-conscious.

She pulled the door behind her. The knob twisted with a discernible click as it shut.

The actress stilled at her dresser. Her eyes flicked up, meeting Zosia’s gaze in the mirror. They were a brilliant green rimmed with dark coal that locked onto Zosia’s own wintry blue. For the briefest flash of a moment, the actress’ eyes widened. Zosia knew she had been recognized.

Silence hung heavy and tense like a curtain about to fall.

Slowly, the actress set down the container and brush she was holding, and replaced it among the many jars, bottles, and other vessels splayed across the dresser.

The air felt static and the room muffled, much like the hush of the audience right before the show began. It must have felt like a challenge to the actress, who couldn’t resist striding into the spotlight.

“My, my,” she said, smiling into the mirror. “A visit from the police? What an honor.” The actress placed her elbow onto the dresser, lounging forward with the alert leisure of a cat on the hunt. “Are you a fan?”

Zosia considered her options. It wouldn’t hurt to play along and be civil—in fact, considering the amount of people just beyond the tight four walls of the dressing room, that was likely the safer option for all of them. For now. “Not quite.”

“Then what brings you to me?” The actress tipped her head to the side, her grin reflecting in the glass. “Has there been a murder?” She turned leisurely, a fluid movement that broke their connected gaze within the mirror.

As she faced Zosia, their eyes locked once again—reattached without a barrier in a way that left Zosia feeling somewhat vulnerable. There was an intensity about the other woman unlike anyone Zosia had ever met. It was like meeting a superstar in the flesh; someone who was so far beyond the mundane that they seemed otherworldly.

Under that strong gaze, Zosia suddenly found it hard to swallow. She grit her teeth to stay focused.

So, you’re pretending you don’t recognize me? Well, then.

“No, not a murder,” Zosia replied, keeping her gaze fixated on those cat-like eyes. “I’m here to investigate a heist.” Two can play this game. “I’d like to ask you a few questions”

The actress’s eyes widened—just a bit too much to be genuine. “Why of course, Detective! It’s my pleasure to serve. I am, after all, a law-abiding citizen.”

Like hell you are.

“Are you sure?” Zosia pressed. “How can I know you’re not just acting ?”

“Well,” the woman paused, dipping her head to blink up at Zosia playfully. “Considering I’m performing a lead role here tonight, I’d say I am rather good at that.”

“You’re not on stage right now,” Zosia replied. She fought the urge to cross her arms. This woman was unpredictable—Zosia refused to let her guard down.

The actress grinned, her overdone innocence melting away in a heartbeat. In its place was a smirk that was downright illegal.

“On stage, off stage, it doesn’t matter.” She stood up languidly, the golden tassels on her prince’s jacket swaying with the motion. “I’m always acting, aren’t I? But…”

She took a small step towards Zosia. Like this, she was once again framed in the light, this time of the dresser mirrors. The resemblance to the thief at the crime scene was undeniable. “You would know all about that, wouldn’t you… Detective ?” The last word came out as a purr, the weight of it heavy against Zosia.

Zosia stiffened… deliberated… and then sighed. Ever so slowly, she allowed some of the tension to fall from her shoulders.

She leveled a calm stare against the actress.

“There,” the other woman cooed, “that’s it. As much as I adore the game, shall we speak honestly now?”

“Are the walls in here soundproof?” Zosia asked, staying rooted in place.

“Not by design,” the actress started, “but it’s intermission. An eight-horse carriage could stampede through that hallway and no one would notice.”

“If you say so.”

“I know so,” the actress insisted. “We can speak plainly. From one criminal…” she dropped her gaze, giving Zosia a heavy look from beneath her long eyelashes. “…to another.”

Zosia scoffed, but it would have been a waste of breath to disagree. She finally gave in to temptation and crossed her arms, shifting to a more relaxed stance. She leaned on one hip and sighed.

The actress clapped her hands once, delightedly. “Oh, I like this. And here I thought you never drop the act before the job is complete.”

“I came because I had to,” Zosia scolded, “so I need you to be serious, for once.”

The actress stuck out her bottom lip as she slid one boot back and forth against the ground.

“Tytania,” Zosia scolded.

The actress—Tytania—flashed an even brighter grin at the sound of her name. It lasted a heartbeat before it melted into a pout.

“Oh, but that’s not fair,” she whined. “You know my name, but I don’t know yours this round. Do tell.” She swept her arm in Zosia’s direction. “What character are you playing this time, little detective?”

Zosia bit her lip, then acquiesced. “Zosia.”

“Ahhh, Zosia .” The name came out smooth on Tytania’s tongue, and she smiled as if she liked the feel of it in her mouth. Zosia found that the small dressing room was uncomfortably hot. “It suits you, much better than your last alias. What was it again? Mila?” Tytania twisted a strand of pink hair mindlessly around a long finger, letting them fall piece by piece to land against her shoulder. “Still. I think I like your real name best of all, Alici —”

"Stop," Zosia cut her off. Tytania could flaunt around with whatever names and identities she wanted, but Zosia’s real name would remain safely tucked away. She refused to risk getting it, and the family who had given it to her, involved here. She wouldn’t even think of it until she was back in Lythenor. "You will call me Zosia.”

Tytania watched Zosia for a long moment, then shrugged. “As you wish.” She shifted, crossing one ankle over the other.

Zosia sighed.

“E nough about the past. I came here to talk about the current heist. If we want this one to be as successful as the others, then you need to be more careful.” Zosia pointed an accusatory finger at Tytania. “As requested by the Under, I’ve got a hand on the police from the inside, but that’s all for nothing if someone recognizes you bouncing around on stage.”

“Oh, but I need the theater!” Tytania exclaimed. “It keeps me in prime shape for thievery, debauchery, and… other fun things.” She winked at Zosia.

Zosia ignored the insinuation entirely. “Police saw you at the crime scene last night. What if they're here, watching the show? You’re not subtle. You’re literally the main role.”

“Praise me more,” Tytania said with a cocky wave of her hand.

“What I’m saying is, you’re getting sloppy.”

Tytania mocked a gasp, clutching the front of her ruffled blouse. “Me? Sloppy? Never.”

Fueled by frustration, Zosia stepped forward. She half expected the taller woman to step back, but instead, Tytania straightened up. She met Zosia in the dead middle of the cramped dressing room, standing so they were nearly early chest-to-chest.

Zosia glared up at Tytania, painfully aware of the height difference between them. It didn’t matter—she needed to get her point across, or both of their necks would be on the line. If not at this mission, then surely on another one in the near future.

“Tell me,” Zosia snapped, “Why did you take that scroll in Marzena? That mission was supposed to be just the Dire Crystal.”

Tytania shrugged lightly, the tassels swishing as her shoulders shifted. “The Under sent in a late request. I obliged.”

“Obliged!? That little stunt jeopardized this mission. You can’t just do everything they tell you without thinking,” Zosia urged. If Tytania thought the Under cared about them—about any of their pieces on the board of the game they played—then she was stupider than Zosia gave her credit for. None of the higher ups cared about their underlings; not on this side of the law or the other.

“I don’t,” Tytania replied. “I do what I want to. And Lord Hinterton shouldn’t have left his silly little history collection out where it was so easy to grab.”

“Fine,” Zosia huffed. “D id the Under tell you to take the jewels from the Museum one at a time too?”

“No.” The smirk teased the edge of Tytania’s lips.

“Then why?”

“For the drama of it, Zosia!” Tytania exclaimed, throwing out an arm while the other clutched at her chest. She looked like she was ready to burst into song. “The anticipation of it all. Watching them scramble to prepare and then try to cover up the losses. It’s way more fun this way, admit it.”

Zosia felt her eye twitch. “Right, fun. Of course.” She narrowed her gaze further.

Tytania shrugged. “The Under hasn’t commented. They let me do what I want, so long as I get them what they ask for. But enough of this drudgery.” She tilted closer, her own eyes narrowing, almost in mockery of Zosia. “Did you come all this way just to tell me off?”

“Is it wrong for me to worry?” Zosia snapped back, vividly mindful of the mere inches between them. “They’re sending us on increasingly high-stakes missions. We don’t have room for error.”

“Then I’m happy to put your worries to rest. They are entirely unfounded—I’m the best of the best,” Tytania announced with a flourish of her hand. “A top-tier thief with flair, and an excellent escape artist to boot. Even if those idiots could put the pieces together and follow the trail back to me, I’d already be long gone.”

“Mhmhm.” Zosia frowned. Tytania was not getting the point. Standing like they were currently was also becoming a challenge. If Tytania leaned any closer, Zosia would either have to give in and step back or cross her eyes to keep the other woman in her line of sight.

Additionally, this close to Tytania, she could smell the other woman’s perfume much clearer than she had in the museum. Her senses were washed over with a warm, alluring spice tinged with the faded notes of a hundred different perfumes and stage makeup. Lurking beneath it was the darker scent of mountain balsam. It was a unique and rather enticing combination.

“Oh, but forgive me,” Tytania said. She tossed her head, sending her long locks swirling and another wave of her perfume to accost Zosia. “I’m not being humble. I may steal the spotlight on stage and at the crime scene, but you, Zosia dear...”

Zosia couldn’t quite pin down the emotion she felt when Tytania called her a term of endearment, sarcastic or not. She didn’t have time to think on it, either.

“You’re quite the performer, too.” Tytania watched Zosia closely, the black eyeliner she wore a striking difference against the green of her eyes. Zosia found it hard to look elsewhere. “You know, those of us on stage are nothing without help from the shadows.”

“Funny,” Zosia quipped back. “I think that’s the most you’ve ever complimented me.”

“ Funny , because I compliment you all the time. You just don’t notice.”

Zosia resisted the urge to roll her eyes. “If I’m your ‘help from shadows’, aren’t you going to ask for details about the police’s stakeout tonight?”

“Hmm? Why would I do that?”

“I’m literally on the inside of the police department. I could give you names, info about supplies, or people’s stations in and out of the museum. All the things that could make your side of the job easier.”

Tytania laughed, tipping her head back in a way that revealed the long curve of her neck. Zosia thought it looked terribly soft.

“But that would ruin the surprise!” Tytania said. “I like when they give me something to be excited about. Besides, handling the police is your job, isn’t it?”

Zosia grimaced. She’s impossible.

In the four heists they had found themselves paired up on so far, Tytania had not once reached out to Zosia for guidance. She had never asked for help, never wanted to cooperate on a plan. While the nature of their roles made it difficult to collaborate openly, there were ways to meet up in secret. It would make things easier for both of them, if only Tytania took this as more than some game or a splash of fame on her portfolio.

Zosia opened her mouth to vocalize this, but was startled by a sudden crash. She took a quick step back, instinctively putting distance between herself and the most dangerous thing in the room—Tytania—despite the sound coming from through the wall. Despite the loud voices from the neighboring room, Zosia couldn’t hear what was being said. Tytania had been right about about the chaos preventing eavesdroppers. It did sound rather like cussing, though.

Tytania didn’t look phased in the slightest. She idly brushed at her nails as the raucous sounds from next door faded away.

“One reason I don’t audition for princessey roles,” she said under her breath. “Those skirts are a nightmare to get into.”

Zosia dropped the hand that hovered over her baton. But she didn’t let go of the tension that had locked into her body—this had been a clear reminder of where they were and what little time they had. Intermission was only 20 minutes and Zosia had lost track of how long she had been in the dressing room.

She was running out of time to get the message across.

“Tytania, seriously—”

Tytania cut her off as she wiggled a finger at Zosia. “And there you go again! Zosia, darling—you take this way too seriously.” It sounded playful enough, but Zosia got the feeling Tytania was also aware of the seconds ticking by. “What's the point of a visit if it's not for fun? If you’re just here to scold me, then you’d best go. I have another act to prepare for.”

With a lingering look at Zosia, she turned around, stepping back to the dresser. Bottles clinked as she selected one from the messy assortment.

Zosia frowned. Dealing with Tytania was like trying to contain a hurricane or catch a shooting star, or perhaps both at the same time. But despite the ride of emotions and uncertainty that Zosia always felt when dealing with the other woman, she did not like being pushed aside. Also, she had come all this way and risked a visit to try and get Tytania to see how reckless she was being. All in hopes that the other woman would knock it off and, ideally, cooperate. It would be for nothing if she couldn’t get the point through Tytania’s spotlight-addled skull.

Some people only learned through demonstration.

Zosia took a few steps closer, stopping right behind Tytania. The actress didn’t turn around, nor did she look up, focusing on unscrewing the sticky cap to one of her makeup jars as she ignored Zosia.

So cocky.

In one fluid, practiced motion, the handcuffs hidden in Zosia’s jacket were out and over Tytania’s wrist. The metal had clicked into place before Tytania could pull back her hand.

In the mirror, for one flashing moment, an expression flitted across Tytania’s attractive face. Surprise? Fury? Something else? It passed so quickly that Zosia couldn’t be sure.

Like a mask, Tytania’s features in the mirror melted, settling into a coy, relaxed smile. “Aha,” she breathed. She dropped the opened jar. It hit the dresser with a soft thud, the creamy liquid inside spilling onto the stained wood.

“Do I have your attention now?” Zosia whispered from behind her.

Tytania didn’t move, her gaze fixated on the metal cuff around her wrist.

Zosia continued in a quiet but forceful whisper. “Then listen. Be. Careful. Not cocky, not overconfident. Careful . Otherwise,” Zosia tugged the cuff gently for emphasize. The chain connecting them clinked ominously. “You’ll end up in someone else’s cuffs—and I might not be able to get you out.”

“Detective Zosia,” Tytania said, low and dark. It was a different tone than before, and one that put all of Zosia’s senses on alert. “It almost sounds like you’re jealous. Someone else? Catch me?”

She laughed, but this time it was deeper, almost breathy.

“How about this.” Tytania’s eyes flicked up to the mirror, meeting Zosia’s once again. She shifted, the cuff chain going tight in Zosia’s grip, but Zosia couldn’t look away—not away from that gaze. Tytania’s eyes were like green fire, too intense to ignore. If Zosia hadn’t known better she would think that she was the one who was caught in the cuffs.

“I promise…” Tytania’s eyelids lowered, her long lashes dark and striking against the stage power brushed on her cheeks. The makeup amplified the curves and shadows of her face. “You’re the only one I’ll let catch me. How about that?”

Zosia found that her mouth was suddenly dry. Was this what she wanted? Wasn’t this why she had come? If so, why didn’t she feel like she was winning here? On the contrary, Zosia felt like she had been lured in and caught, pinned in that show-stopping stare.

“Just—” Zosia pulled her gaze away, fixating on the ribbon holding Tytania’s ponytail in place. “Just be more mindful. Your neck isn’t the only one on the line here, so—”

Another click echoed in the room.

Zosia looked down. Somehow, the second cuff that had been in her hand was now locked firmly around her wrist. She was chained to Tytania.

“Wh—”

Pressure exploded in her arm as Zosia was yanked forward and then shoved. The slam of the dresser into her lower back knocked the wind from her lungs. There was the tinkling of glass and the slosh of liquid as most of the bottles on the dresser went flying.

Tytania loomed over Zosia as the shorter woman scrambled to regain herself. Zosia’s arm—still cuffed to Tytania’s—was squeezed between their bodies as she clutched for purchase behind her, the bandages on her hand sliding against the wood of the dresser.

Zosia’s mind was left to spin in space, unable to catch up to the twist in their positions and the warm pressure of Tytania’s lithe body pressing her against the dresser. She felt like one of the jars that had gone sailing to the floor, rolling around helplessly.

“I was trying to be nice,” Tytania said, shifting in a way that sent her hair brushing against Zosia’s cheek. With her mind still checked out, Zosia tipped her head back—perhaps to get away. Instead, it gave Tytania better access to Zosia’s neck.

“But since you threatened me, I’ll be frank—you’re the one who needs to be more careful, Detective. Coming here to see me? Risky. Careless, even.”

Each word Tytania breathed was a tangible pressure against Zosia’s sensitive skin, a caress by invisible fingers. Tension seeped through the air, thicker than the makeup creams melting onto the floor.

“One might think you had ulterior motives, darling.”

Pressed against the dresser with her back flat against the mirror and nowhere to go but further toward her captor, Zosia clenched her jaw. This was not how she had imagined this would go.

“I just—I take this job seriously,” Zosia hissed. It was meant to be forceful, but instead it came out as breathy and flustered as she felt.

“I believe that,” Tytania said easily. Zosia could hear the smirk in her words. “But now that I have this little theory of mine, I’d like to test it.”

Zosia froze, even as her heart thundered in her chest.

Tytania had always been flighty and flirtatious. Zosia had assumed that was just part of her flamboyant character. Whenever the other woman made a sensual remark, Zosia had written it off as her playing around—acting, as she always seemed to be doing.

But now, with the other woman’s breath teasing patterns below her chin, Zosia was no longer sure how to interpret Tytania’s actions. Was this just a ploy to see how far Zosia bent? She wouldn't actually do anything, of course. Because she wasn’t really interested in Zosia… right?

Zosia realized that, despite all of the time they had spent on opposite sides of the same operation, she didn't know much at all about her partner. She hadn’t a clue about what—or who—the other woman liked, nor what Tytania would or wouldn’t do.

Another warm puff of air against her neck made Zosia shudder.

"Tytania?" She asked, her voice stripped of confidence.

A strange thought squirmed in Zosia’s mind that, all things considered, this wasn’t that bad. In fact, Zosia’s body was rapidly taking notes and trying to convince her that it was somewhat exciting—good, even. The dissonance between what her body was insisting and what her mind was demanding had her locked in place mentally, all while Tytania continued to keep her physically restrained.

“Present,” Tytania breathed as she closed the inch between them. Her lips were searing hot against Zosia’s neck.

Zosia pulled back slightly from surprise, only to remember she had nowhere to go. Even the clink of the cuffs was muffled, contained between the heat of their bodies.

“Tell me, Zosia.” Tytania’s tone was secretive. Zosia wanted very badly to be able to see her face, even if it was likely just a mask. “Why are you on this job?”

Zosia shut her eyes, the back of her head pressing into the mirror. Around them, the crystals embedded in the mirrors’ edges continued their low, steady glow. The hum of the theater continued outside the dressing room. In Zosia’s mind, there was a flash of a small house in the city, where an elderly woman slept in bed. Zosia shoved the thoughts away before they could fully form. “Protection.”

“Hmmm. Noble,” Tytania replied. “I was worried it was for the money. T here’s much more valuable things than cold, hard jewels or coins, you know. Money is so terribly boring.”

Something other than lips brushed against Zosia’s neck, and she realized it was a finger. The edge of Tytania’s blunt nails sent pleasurable chills in their wake.

Zosia couldn’t restraint the shiver; nor the curiosity.

“W—” Zosia swallowed, her throat bobbing beneath the teasing touch of lips and fingers. “W-why are you on the job?”

“Oh, I thought that was obvious by now,” Tytania purred, trailing down Zosia’s neck. The sound was so deep, so close. “I like the excitement. The thrill. As for my reward, I take what I want. Jewels, scrolls, knickknacks—anything of interest in the vaults. Though it’s kind of a waste, really. I prefer… warmer rewards.”

The hum pressed against her clavicle caused Zosia’s eyes to flutter. She had to strain to keep them open.

“And speaking of warm...” Tytania whispered, the words pulsing into Zosia’s skin.

Unable to lean back further into the dresser and mirror, Zosia tried to brace against the wood again. Her other arm, still caught between them, tangled in Tytania’s princely jacket. Zosia could feel the heat of Tytania’s skin, flush beneath the thin fabric of the blouse.

Before Zosia knew it, there was a thigh pressing between her own. It was almost like they were stepping into a dance, but it was a routine that Tytania knew by heart and Zosia didn’t know a single step. She twisted her grip in Tytania’s jacket.

Tytania leaned back slightly, just enough to look down at Zosia from beneath lidded eyes. The grin on her lips could only be described as criminal. “Do you have any idea how hot you look in that uniform? It’s tighter than the one in Marzena… I love how it presses against you, catching those curves. You were really something in the exhibit last night. I like it when you chase me, you know.”

It was hard for Zosia to breathe; the temperature in the dressing room was spiking to dangerous levels. Tytania was so close. Each word from her lips was a hook that drew Zosia in deeper. She was right on the edge of letting go—of forgetting the show, and tossing aside their roles. Maybe this was just a game, but Zosia found that right now she no longer cared. How bad would it be, to give in to Tytania? Just this once…

A sudden, loud knock against the door sent Zosia’s entire body locking up. A rush of ice chased down her spine as she came slamming back to reality.

Tytania paused, leaning over Zosia like a predator guarding their prey.

The knock repeated; it was definitely the door to their dressing room.

This is bad! Zosia’s mind, although still sluggish beneath Tytania’s touch and the unbelievability of the situation, came stumbling back to work. It whirled through possible escape plans. We cannot get caught like this—we shouldn’t be seen together at all!

Tytania didn’t appear bothered by the unexpected visitor. She withdrew a bit more, almost regretfully, from Zosia as she straightened to her full height. Her green eyes continued to pin the other woman down as she lifted a hand to leisurely twirl a strand of Zosia’s black hair around her finger. Tighter and tighter.

“Ermina?” a rough voice sounded muffled through the door. “You in there?”

“Who’s Ermina?” Zosia hissed.

“Everyone’s allowed to have stage names, Zosia ,” Tytania whispered back. She called out, “Yes?”

“Intermission’s almost over—you’ve got two minutes to curtain!”

“Thank you, Jerald. I’ll be right there.” Tytania’s eyes didn’t leave Zosia’s. The strand of hair slipped from her fingers as she pulled back and untangled their legs. The cuff links clinked between them, the chain stretching out. Beneath the thick fabric of the police uniform, Zosia’s arm suddenly felt inexplicably cold.

“Well, my partner in crime, it’s been lovely. As it always is meeting you.” Tytania extended her cuffed hand. “We’ll have to pick this up again later.”

Zosia grasped the metal chain. She tried to calm both her breathing and her heart rate as she worked at the small safety lever hidden inside the cuff.

“You’ll be at the crime scene tonight…?” Tytania watched her leisurely, as if they had all the time in the world—as if an entire theater full of people weren’t expecting her presence on stage in seconds.

“Yes,” Zosia replied, hating how ragged her voice sounded. “Of course I’ll be there. It’s my job.”

The cuffs snapped open.

“Good.” With a dramatic flourish, Tytania slid her hand free and straightened out her jacket. The golden tassels swished energetically as she gave herself a quick look-over in the mirror behind Zosia. She smiled, clearly satisfied with what she saw.

Zosia, meanwhile, had a conundrum. It was just a few inches, yet the sudden gap between them was as liberating as it felt empty. She no longer knew what she wanted.

“Ermina—60 seconds to curtain!” the muffled voice sounded anxious.

Tytania sighed dramatically. “Sorry, partner,” she breathed, and Zosia truly wanted to believe the apology in her eyes.

Tytania stepped toward the door, sending a wink in Zosia’s direction. There was still a small, sane part of Zosia that was grateful for the escape. The other, increasingly louder part of her bemoaned the loss.

“Tytania,” Zosia called softly, aware of the person outside. She didn’t move from the dresser. Her stupid knees were wobbly and she didn’t want Tytania to realize.

For a heartbeat, Zosia feared that Tytania wouldn’t stop—that she’d float off, through the door and back into the spotlight, without spending another glance Zosia’s way. It wasn’t an unfounded worry; games aside, they were only business partners, weren’t they? But for some reason it caused a spike of strange anxiety to bloom in Zosia’s chest.

Tytania stopped, glancing back over her shoulder. Zosia tried to ignore the seed of happiness that sprouted in her chest.

“Put on a good show,” Zosia said.

Tytania grinned back at Zosia, oozing confidence in the way that only she could. “I will. Though this is just a warm up. I look forward to our show together later tonight. Maybe you’ll catch me this time, hmm?”

She winked, flashing another one of those dizzying smiles.

Tytania grabbed the doorknob—only to yank her hand back.

The knob turned, twisted by someone on the other side.

Zosia’s heart stopped as Tytania stepped back, her expression flashing into something dangerous. The door creaked as it swung inward, revealing a man. He poked his head inside, th e numerous lines on the dark skin of his forehead glistening with sweat. "Sorry, but we can’t wait any—oh."

His eyes widened as he looked between the two women in the dressing room.

Zosia swallowed nervously. This was potentially quite bad. No one should see her with Tytania.

"Who's she? Police?" The stress that looked permanently etched onto Jerald’s face deepened further.

"Nothing to worry about," Tytania grinned. "Just getting a little good luck from my partner."

Jerald’s expression melted into relief. "Ah, that’s alright. Didn’t know you had a girlfriend, Ermina! Good for you."

"We're not—" Zosia started.

Tytania was back across the room in two steps.

She swept an arm around Zosia’s lower back, and, as Zosia opened her mouth in surprise, Tytania swallowed her breath. Her mouth pressed chastely against Zosia’s.

Tytania’s lips were even softer than they appeared. The gentle press and heart-stopping warmth sent shocks chasing themselves up and down Zosia’s body in a way that felt surprisingly pleasant.

Tytania pulled back, her lashes lowered. The smirk on her face, on the lips that had been on Zosia’s mere seconds ago, was only visible to Zosia.

"See you later, love,” Tytania said, loud enough for everyone in the hallway to hear.

Then, with another flirtatious wink, she strutted through the door, taking a sharp turn and vanishing out of sight.

Jerald tipped his head towards Zosia with an amused smile.

The door closed behind him.

Zosia fell back against the dresser. If her knees had been weak before, she couldn’t even stand now.

What was that!? She—!

Her hands lifted to her lips. In the golden glow around the mirror, the bright red flushed across her face was starkly visible.

The tension was starting to seep out, and in its place was surprise—surprise at Tytania for actually kissing her, but also at herself for not hating it. On the contrary, her body was insisting very strongly that she had liked it. A lot.

Zosia shook her head, blaming it on the adrenaline. Being undercover, the stress of the heist—Tytania was just preying on the moment. It didn’t seem too far out of her character to do so. And poor Zosia was out of her element, that was all. It had been, what, years since her last girlfriend? The intensity of her career path was stressful, not to mention the need to disappear after a job with a new name and new identity. Zosia was very out of practice when it came to things like flirting. That was the only reason Tytania was able to play her like an instrument; she was sure of it.

The kiss meant absolutely nothing. Tytania could play her games all she wanted so long as she played her part in their mission. Zosia’s heart was not a factor here. Moonlight forbid, Zosia wouldn’t let that flirtatious thief get anything else from her; that kiss was the first and last thing she would steal from Zosia. Her heart would remain firmly her own, as it always had.

Zosia breathed in, slow and determined. The sound echoed slightly in the dressing room that now felt empty. It took several minutes for her heart rate to hesitantly settle back to normal, during which time she brushed down the front of her uniform until it could once again pass for professional.

When she felt like she had a hold on herself and her legs had recovered their dignity, she walked to the door and pressed an ear against the wood. Being backstage on her own wasn’t all that risky in the grand scheme of things, but she had already been seen with Tytania by one person. It would be safest to make sure that no one else saw her anywhere near the actress or her quarters.

Outside, Zosia could hear the fading footsteps and voices growing distant as everyone’s attention—both backstage and in the auditorium—returned to the stage.

She waited until the footsteps had faded and the distant sounds of the orchestra had begun to play before slipping out into the hallway.