One, two...maybe three; the girl counted how many different perspectives there would be if she was to act that very moment. The two women who had been talking in a corner of the artists' studio slightly moved and the girl recalculated.

One pair of eyes remained, even if they were only assisted by peripheral vision. The girl's small foot moved from under her long brown skirt and nudged a misplaced chair just in time for an unsuspecting sculptor to collide with it thus grabbing the attention of a bundle of eyes and leaving Demetria to complete her mission and how easy it was the master of distraction to let her delicate and precise fingers glide across the wooden table to her left and snip a variety of paints she couldn't find, or afford in that case. The disorder of the place was used to her advantage as she moved smoothly and quickly out of the area and into the equally chaotic streets of Florence.

"Oh, these artisans aren't nearly as perceptive to the real world as they are of their art." She snickered as she commented to herself. She paused a minute, though her feet didn't, as she thought about the fact that she herself was an artist and decided to rephrase even if she was the only one to hear her remark.

"Perhaps...it was the ones in that location in particular." She shook her head after the second statement.

"No, no, that's not right either; da Vinci's maestro works there." Demetria clicked her tongue and added a skip to her step.

"Leave the witty remarks to the poets and comedians and keep at what you do best." She continued talking to herself, only this time a reply came.

"Thievery?" A gruff voice questioned from behind the young female and she swung herself around to be presented with a very cross man. Given his garments and his comment it was simple to assume this was one of the artists that Demetria had stolen from. Her nose wrinkled a bit in apprehension and her cheeks flushed as her blood pumped faster waiting for her chance to flee.

"Well, I was going to say "painting" but I humbly accept your compliment, signore." The girl teased, changing her tone to that of a snooty royal. She didn't delay to discover what sort of face the man had made to that jest and decided it in her better interest to quicken her pace to somewhere far from her pursuer.

Unfortunately her hasty escape from the older man brought her a newfound problem; the blue, the most important color, the one she was most in need of lost its way and was misplaced in the shambolic streets of the lively city. Demetria only became aware of this fact after arriving to her home and at that point it was past curfew. The girl might have been courageous and even a bit dimwitted in certain perilous situations but she wasn't about to risk getting interrogated by Dragonetti simply to retrieve a tube of blue oil.

"What now? I can't go back to that workshop, they'll maul me..." Her thoughts wandered until a new idea came to mind bringing with it a cunning smile. The plan put the girl to ease and she settled to sleep assured that she would be successful in her plot.

Awakening the next day Demetria squandered endless hours awaiting just the right time to put her strategy into action. As the late afternoon sun called the drunkards and gamblers out to play the girl went out to the streets as well. The marigold light that shone on the girl cast a shadow that was as sneaky as its owner as she slipped from street to street until reaching a specific pathway. She stole a glance at the door she longed to open and was delighted to see that the usual inhabitants of the residence weren't there.

Cleverly walking up to the door and picking the lock with impressive ease the girl went in to the messy area and started shuffling through the various papers and other things, just by taking a look at the state they were spread about the corners of the room she could tell the owner wouldn't notice her intrusion.

"Aha!" Upon laying eyes on a certain drawer overflowing with half-used tubes of paint Demetria proceeded to choosing a particular arctic blue tone and giggled at her accomplishment when suddenly a noise came from the entrance. She rapidly turned to see what it was and the pleasantness of the achievement was only enhanced as Nico's virtuously young figure stood at the door.

"What are you doing?"

Her smile couldn't be contained as she clutched onto the item she'd been searching for and closed the drawer before heading straight for the boy.

"Nico." She smiled widely as the whispered name left her lips. Although Nico wasn't too glad to see a stranger in her maestro's home, if he were to pick one it most certainly would be the one with pecan brown hair and tawny eyes that were so alluring and outstanding in the midst of the mahogany freckles sprinkled across her face.

"You can't be in here? What were you just—Hey!" The girl rolled her eyes as Nico began speaking and scurried past him and out into the streets. Happily she returned home and completed the masterpiece she'd so diligently had been stealing for.

The following morning Demetria decided to reward herself by bringing trouble to a jeweler who'd treated her disrespectfully once or to simply sit around the city counting how many sisters from the convent she'd seen sneaking around at late hours with questionable men. After snitching a pine green scarf from a mindless woman too entertained in courting a man, whom Demetria considered much awfully lurid, the young girl relished in passing as a fortune teller to a mapmaker she wasn't too fond of due to his daughter who'd ratted on her for robbing a fruit on a day that she was particularly hungry.

"In your future, signore, I see a daughter." She began feigning a Turkish accent to its minimal details, a trait she'd perfected during her endless solitary nights.

"Yes, it is true, I have a daughter. Tell me more."

"Your daughter she is very beautiful..." She looked up to the man and saw him smiling as he gazed at his palm.

"And she will marry into an honorable family..." Demetria was building up the joke and could barely hold in her laughs as she came to say the final part.

"But she will become as fat as a pig and as ugly as a dog bringing her husband to sleep with a different harlot every night." At the sound of her own words and the gentleman's gasp she couldn't help but let out a chuckle. The man pulled his hand from her and spat at her feet.

"Hey!" She mumbled curses as he walked away and changed her course so that she wondered in the opposite direction of the fellow. Demetria walked the streets unworriedly until Zoroaster's large chest blocking her way and making her waddled back from the impact.

"Oh, sorry." The man said as he placed his hands on her shoulders and the blond adolescent besides him gaped at her face with shock.

"You!"

"Who's this?" Zo asked as he switched his gaze from Nico to the girl in front of him.

"She's the one I saw at Leonardo's house last night."

She started to make a run for it but Zoroaster grabbed at her wrist and stared at her face.

"Are you sure Nico?" The man circled his hand in front of the young girl's face before adding:

"No freckles."

"I—I'm not sure why there're no freckles...but I'm absolutely sure that's her; she stared me right in the face." Nico assured his friend still slightly confused by the lack of marks on the female's face.

"So? Who are you?" Zoroaster decided to believe his younger partner and enquired the girl.

"He's telling the truth; I did break into da Vinci's home but only because I needed a tone of blue only he could have had...and he did. I can take you to see my work if only you'd release me."

Zoroaster squinted as he looked at Demetria; she may have been a perfectly good liar but the man ahead of her new all the points in the art of deception and was examining her from head to toe.

"Lead us to it." Nico's voice broke the intense stare between the other two. Demetria looks to the boy and smiles.

"Surely."

After walking a great distance from the city, Zoroaster and Nico followed the girl into the forest nearby in almost utter silence, if not for the older man's comments.

"Look, Nico, I understand she's pretty and all but seriously she's leading us into a forest."

"I know."

"And aren't you afraid we'll be ambushed?" Zo whispered exasperatedly.

"This is it." The girl said upon reaching a tall and thick tree with a strange circular middle that was a few feet up.

"A tree?" Nico questioned, looking to the girl who nodded and went to the other side of the trunk.

"Yep, this is it; soon we'll be surrounded by swords." Zoroaster nodded to himself and soon after the girl returned with a well-made ladder made of branches.

"Put a little trust in her." Nico cooed as he observed the female. Zo watched the way Nico looked at the girl and raised his eyebrows.

"That's not all you want to put in her." He mumbled to himself as the blond went up the ladder after the girl.

When the three were up in the tree the two visitors were amazed by what they saw. The entire place was made of a tightly merged layer of branches and hay and resembled a type of human nest. In one corner a countless number of blankets and scarves laid orderly on the floor to form a bed, in another a variety of metal flasks sat along with a medium-sized wooden chest that held a few things.

"Here it is." The girl motioned to a neat stack of canvases that had been placed besides a numerous amount of different colored paint oils and brushes; given the circumstances it was safe to say it was a collection of all she'd stolen up to that point.

"Is that why you stole from the maestro?" Nico questioned taking note of her hobby of painting.

"Yes, I saw an angle and I had to have it painted." The girl presented a charming smile.

"An angle?" Zoroaster asked as he stepped up to the many paintings. "Where is it?"

"Here." The girl lifted a certain piece that had Nico's face painted. It was a close up of the boy's eyes but also offered details of his eyebrows and golden curls. As the three observed the exquisitely painted portrait-like canvas Nico's cheeks grew red.

"Alright, we believe you." The young boy cleared his throat and stepped back from the art. "We should be going now."

Zo noticed his friends flustered state and looked to Demetria before following.

"Ah, just one more thing." Zoroaster paused and turned back to the girl.

"Yes?" She nodded.

"The freckles. Nico said you had freckles yet...no freckles."

The girl giggled and walked over to the corner where the wooden chest was, opened it and walked up to the two men. The girl brought out a glass vial with a cork, which she pulled creating a popping sound.

"Henna powder, from the Turks. A couple of smugglers who slept under here once showed me their merchandise and I took some and learned how to use it." She said showing them the greenish powder.

"How do you use it?" The younger boy asked and Zo answered for him.

"Mix it with lemon juice and a couple other things. It's used for marking the skin."

"But why use it to make freckles?" Nico asked still a bit confused.

"You might think that someone who steals things just to get by would be in desperate need of an alibi." She laughed a bit heavyhearted and the two boys felt and understood the girl's words.

"Well, if you need anything...you know how to break into Leo's place so..." Zoroaster slightly kidded, relating the most to the girl's current situation, causing her to laugh and nod.

"Thank you, um, I'm sorry, I didn't get your name?"

"Zoroaster, and you?" He answered simply.

"Demetria di Montespertoli, I'll most likely hold you up on your word as soon as my stomach or my mischief drives me to it."

"No problem." The man says and starts heading down the stairs. Nico lingers a bit longer though he was the one to mention leaving in the first place.

"Why...why did you choose to paint me?" He finally mustered up the courage to ask and Demetria answered willingly.

"Who else could I find with eyes in that angelic shade of blue?"