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1686 Words
"How?" The word is harsher than I mean for it to be.
Florentine's expression hardens. "I have connections. The other judges have connections. Do not doubt us. With us behind you, you might have a chance getting back into the castle."
She doesn't seem to have any doubts that I wouldn't want to take this opportunity. Is this the best chance that I have to regain my throne? Do I really want to return to the stress and pressure of the throne? Sure, I want nothing more than revenge against my sisters' deaths and my own disgrace, but is there a way to achieve it without becoming queen? Is it part of my duty to fight for my kingdom, even though it might not be something I completely want?
Florentine continues, "However, we won't be able to formulate the plan in detail without knowing that you are completely committed."
"I'm afraid that I can't commit if I have no information whatsoever on how this plan might be carried out, or who it might be involved."
"It's too undeveloped to tell you our exact actions. They will come as we become more organized. It was only recently that I managed to convince the other judges that it is Alexanne, not you who is the murderer. Surely you understand how such convincing would take so much time."
"If it took so long to convince them, do they completely stand behind me? I don't want to entrust my faith in someone who is a traitor. I'm afraid I've had enough of those in my life."
Florentine bows her head, "While they took some time, they trust you now."
"Who are these judges? You don't have to give me exact identities, but could you give me something? Are they kingdom officials of any kind? Noblemen and women?"
"I'm afraid it is not my position to give away that information. I swore an oath that I plan to keep."
Is their secrecy so serious that they had to swear an oath? Who would need to be that secretive?
A servant knocks briskly on the door and peeks her head inside, "Lady Florentine? The Duchess is getting rather restless. I thought that perhaps you would like to meet with her in the best of her many moods?"
Florentine smiles, nods, and turns back to us, "Is there anything else you would like to ask?"
There are thousands of questions begging to be asked, but I can't choose which one has the most urgency. Instead I shake my head, "No. Thank you, Florentine, for all you have done."
Florentine turns back to the servant, "Would you show these ladies to a room? I need to go meet with the Duchess."
Florentine slips from the room as the servant enters. She curtsies to us and leads us down the hall. We travel back through the windowed hall and into a new part of the home. We pass by an open door, revealing an expansive library. My eyes stare at the books as we pass. I think of the stolen books sitting inside the bag on my back. Perhaps I won't need them much longer.
The servant stops in front of a door, unlocks it, and opens it for us. She ushers it inside, waiting in the doorway.
I stumble inside, tripping over the edge of the thick carpet. My bag slips from my grasp and falls to the floor as I stare at room. It's the perfect image of what used to be mine.
Two large beds lie in the huge room, soft pillows and warm quilts waiting. Large windows let in late morning sunrays, giving us a view of the gardens. A twinkling chandelier, expensive paintings, and bookshelves. After living in our tiny room for two months, this is close to paradise.
I turn back to see that the servant is still waiting to be dismissed. I'm respected by the servants again. I nod to her, and she closes the door gently behind her.
I kick off my torn shoes and lie down on the soft bed. A blissful sigh escapes my lips. Grace hesitates along the edge of the room, uncomfortable.
I push myself on my elbows, "What's wrong? Isn't this incredible?"
Grace manages a smile.
"What?" I ask, "Are you going to tell me that we shouldn't trust Florentine?"
She laughs, but her face reveals that my words landed true.
I sit up, "What are your reasons?"
"Please don't take this the wrong way, but why would she want to help you? What is in it for her? Perhaps, if she did somehow manage to defeat all of Alexanne's defenses and help you regain the crown, she would want a position of power. There has to be strings attached."
"Maybe she wants to do it out of compassion."
"I would love to believe that, I really would. But she would be risking her life for this. And these other judges that she keeps referring to, but can't give away their identities, do you think that they even exist?"
"They have to exist, who else would judge the contest with her?"
"How do we even know if she was telling the truth about being a judge in the contest? She could have created that just to make herself seem more trustable."
I take a deep breath, "Grace, why do you have to find lies and dark motives in every nice thing that someone does?"
"Because I've known too many liars and been hurt too often to trust anything anyone does for me."
Grace adds, "Also, I'm not completely comfortable that our room has a lock on the door."
"Plenty of rooms in plenty of houses have locks on the doors. It's just a trend of the age."
"I can believe that, but why weren't we given a key? If our room could be locked, shouldn't we be given a way to get in?"
"Maybe the servant just forgot to give it to us..." Grace does have a point about lock and key, but it could just be an innocent mistake.
I say, "There's a perfect way to figure out if she is telling the truth or not. We could sneak out and do some exploring of our own. Maybe if we find an office or..."
Grace crosses her arms, "And what will we do once we get caught?"
I smile. "We'll use the classic excuse. We'll say we were looking for a bathroom."
Grace rolls her eyes, but I can see her giving in. "Fine," she says, "But only for a few minutes. And if we get caught, I will get to use it against you as much as I want to."
I laugh, "Sure, whatever it takes to get you to come. We both know I can't go solo."
We peek into the hallway to see if anyone is outside the room.
After confirming the hallway is clear, we begin creeping down the hall. I wince every time a floorboard creaks, but we continue forward.
Grace whispers, "The key is acting like we are supposed to be here. If we seem confident, no one will second guess us."
I straighten out my posture, and we stroll easily down the hall. Once we've traveled down the length of the hall, it splits into two, one way going left, the other stopping at a dark wooden door.
I realize how foolish this is. We don't know the layout of the mansion or where to find Florentine's study, if she even has one here. We don't know who else lives in this house, whether Florentine's husband, if she has one, or any other family. She could have any number of servants that might appear at any time. We will surely be caught at any moment. Unfortunately, I'm too stubborn to admit that now and turn back.
I turn to Grace, "Which way should we go?"
"Your choice. I want you to be the reason we are caught." She smiles, as if she finds my struggle amusing.
"Could you stop your laughing and try to at least help me? You realize that Florentine won't be happy to know we were sneaking around."
"Yes, I think that's exactly the reasoning I used as to why we shouldn't sneak around."
I roll my eyes, but I know that she's right. I didn't listen to anything she said.
"Remember, you can always use the classic excuse of looking for the bathroom." Her eyes sparkle.
"Stop it, I need help. Where do you think that door leads to? It could be a study, but it could also be the sitting room that Florentine is currently in with the Duchess."
"You know, we could always just go back to our room before we are caught. Nobody would have to know and I promise I won't mention it too often."
Two voices waft from the hall we just left. I jump to the side, Grace following right behind me. Their conversation doesn't appear to change, so I don't think they saw us.
I look for a hiding place and realize my error. I moved to the side of the door, not the hall. We can't move into the hall without passing right through the oncoming servants paths.
Grace has lost her humorous attitude, her eyes franticly looking to me for a solution. We have nowhere to go but through the door. I pull Grace after me and yank the door open. Thankfully it isn't one with a lock.
We tumble inside and I silently shut the door behind us. As no shouts ring out, I assume we must be in an empty room.
It appears to be a study, although it's nothing like I imagined Florentine's would be. A dark desk is cluttered with stacks of paper. Books overflow from the bookshelves, sitting in haphazard stacks along the floor.
It's strange, it reminds me of the office of...
A door opens from the other side of the office. A man enters, his face buried in a sheet of paper. He realizes he is not alone and slowly raises his head.
Augustine.
- Writer
