A sigh. "Are you not done yet, thief?"

"Lock-picking is not generally my style but you're welcome to try anytime, your majesty."

"Not only a criminal but an incompetent one?"

It's his turn to sigh, frowning deepening as he gropes with unfamiliar twisting metal.

"Oh, move over - " the lock hazes purple, clicks, the job half-done, and she barely deigns him a superior look. "You can't steal what's under lock? How on earth did you acquire your reputation?"

He raises eyebrows and a hand, unmissed pin from her hair made trophy.

"You're be surprised the sorts of things people leave unlocked."