Raymond's mouth felt dry, and he instinctively licked his lips.
"I mean... I might not get another chance to awaken the 'Thief.' I don't want to regret missing it," he muttered to himself, half-convincing, half-justifying his actions. "Besides, it's Arya's. It's not like I'm stealing from a stranger. That would be worse… right?"
His thoughts spiraled further into rationalizations. "I'll just bring it to the room and put it away right after. It's not like I'm doing anything shameful…"
The more he repeated the excuses in his mind, the more he managed to convince himself.
Raymond glanced down the stairs. Earlier, he'd heard the faint clinking of dishes being washed. Arya was still downstairs, busy with chores. This was the perfect chance.
"If I'm quick," he thought, "I can get it done before she comes back upstairs."