Disclaimer: All Thief Lord characters belong to Cornelia Funke. The basic plot line belongs to me, and so does Amelia Castimini, the French maid Victorie and any other random charactes that I may add later on…The plot line of this may sound familiar – if it does – I have no idea how that happened, and I didn't steal it intentionally. (Thought I'd better say that just in case)

Scipio tugged at his shirt color, the longer he wore it, the more convinced he became that it was trying to strangle him. Just a few more hours and I can get rid of this silly circus costume he told himself, for up-stairs, tucked away in the depths of his closet was a T-shirt, jeans, a long dark coat that reached to his knees, thick black leather boots that made him look taller, and - his favorite of all – his mask! Scipio liked to think of the mask as his trade mark. It was black and covered the top half of his face, and it had a long nose that made it look bird-like. Thinking about it made his stuffy clothes just a little more bearable…

"Scipio!" snapped the cold voice of his father. "Sit up straight and stop fidgeting." The command echoed around the nearly empty dinning room. Signore Massimo and Scipio were the only ones there that evening, they were the only ones there any evening.

A heavy oak door creaked open and a small, timed maid entered the grand room. Upon a silver platter she carried an old fashioned phone.

"There is a telephone call for you Monsieur Massimo." She squeaked through a thick French accent.

Signore Massimo looked up from his plate veal cutlets. "Who is it, Victorie?!" He demanded.

Victorie the maid shrunk back. "It is Madam Castimini" She answered quietly.

Signore Massimo turned back to his plate of food. "I have never heard of her, she's probably collecting for some charity drive. Tell her I don't give a – "He was cut of by Victorie.

"No, no Monsieur! That is her new name; she used to be…Madam Massimo." The maid said in whisper.

Scipio could see a vain pulsating in his father's forehead, and his face was growing steadily redder. God how I love it when father gets mad at someone other then me for a change…He thought to himself, a smirk forming on his lips. He didn't much care about that fact that his mother had called, she never had before. As far as he was concerned, she was as good as dead…

Signore Massuimo set down his fork and knife with much more force then was necessary, and then grabbed the phone from Victoie's hand.

"I thought you never wanted to talk to me again?!" He snapped in a way that was more of a statement then a question. He handed the phone back to the maid.

Victorie held it to her ear and listened for a moment. She nodded several times, and then clasped her hand over the receiver.

"Madam Massimo whishes to call a temporarily truce." She said.

Signore Massuimo took the phone off the platter and dismissed Victorie with a wave of his hand. The little maid disappeared behind the door, only to happy to go back to the kitchens.

Scipio played with his mashed potatoes and pretended not to listen to what his father was saying.

"Hello Madalina." Signore Massimo grumbled, sounding less then sincere. "Yes, it has been a long time. What? Oh, no. No I haven't been seeing anybody – And I don't think it's any of your business rather or not I – Yes, yes, Scipio is still living here, no, he didn't run away." Signore Massimo was getting more and more annoyed, he obviously didn't care for small-chat. "Look…Madalina, would you just tell me why you called?!"

There was a long pause in which Scipio admired his replica of the sphinx sculpted from the mashed potatoes. Then his father spoke again.

"You want what?!" His eyes had grown wide, and his face was the exact shade of a beet. "I don't care who she is!! I wouldn't care if she's the queen of Sheba! She can't stay here!" Signore Massimo had lost all control over his voice and had begun to shout. There was another long pause, and he seemed to recover slightly.

"I – no wait, Maddlina, no, slow down." He sighed and rolled his eyes. "I'll make a deal; you promise never to call me again, and I'll let Amelia spend the summer, and only the summer." Signore Massimo nodded and hung up the phone without even saying good bye.

Scipio was tempted to ask who Amelia was, but he wasn't sure if his father could handle questions. He decided to risk it. "Who's Amelia?" He asked, trying to sound conversational.

Signore Massimo took a bite of food and chewed for a long time. Finally he answered. "You mother felt it would be a good experience if you were to meet your half-sister…She'll be here tomorrow, and she'll stay for the summer." He said coldly.

Scipio had never known he'd had a sister, or a half one at that, he'd always assumed he was an only child…Immediately he imagined a little girl with pig tails and an fluffy pink dress running circles around him and singing shrill, of key songs. For a second he almost wished he was at that fancy military boarding school his father was always on about, at least they didn't allow little sisters there…