He’d been so close, so very, very close. The Dragon’s Blood had been right there in his reach if he only would have been fast enough. He could have reached for it, but if he’d done so all eyes would have been on him at once. The Prince couldn’t afford that, not when he was so close. He could not screw up, he needed the Dragon’s Blood.
All that had been pointless preoccupation. Someone had plotted to take the Blood and so his opportunity to grab for it fled, in a most literal sense.
It’d all been the fault of that bastard in the dark cloak. The bastard had created a distraction and snatched away the dragon’s blood before his very eyes, just when the Prince had thought to use that to his own advantage.
As he trudged down the street, the Prince thought he could have cried for help, make them recover the Blood and try to steal it again; but that would have meant they would tighten security and would not allow such a thing to happen once again. No, his chance was now. Follow and steal it back. Not a hard task.