Raphael hummed in the kitchen, searching for sugar to sweeten the French Toast, as he believed they tasted rather bitter this morning.
Maria cautiously walked in, attracted by the breakfast smell.
"Good morning," Raphael announced glancing over his shoulder, "I'm almost done with French Toast."
"Smells amazing," Maria informed.
"You have better manners then Anita," he replied dropped some slices of bread into the egg mixture. "No matter what I do she always says she wants something else."
The bread slices hissed on the hot pan.
"I haven't had French Toast in a long time," Maria explained, as she went to continue she stifled a laugh.
Raphael furrowed his brows, confused momentarily before realising he was wearing his Mother's old pink and yellow apron, decorated by floral and bird-like designs. He smiled as well, however, wasn't embarrassed. "I think I look rather stylish in pink," he stated returning his attention to the close-to-burning bread.
Maria leant against a benchtop on the opposite side of the kitchen. "We only had French Toast on special occasions. The whole town would often get involved."
"Well here in this household we eat this way more than we probably should," Raphael confessed adding the two slices to a plate stacked with other French Toasts. "Did you sleep well?" he asked repeating the sequence of bread, eggs, pan and stack.
Maria nodded, "Fine, thank you." She groaned as she rubbed the back of her neck, "The nuns are probably really worried."
Raphael made a loud snort, "Probably? Try definitely. They're most likely losing their minds." He flicked two pieces of French Toast onto a plate and pushed it across the benches towards Maria. "We have honey or sugar, choose your sweet poison."
Maria rolled her eyes as she picked up the plate. Raphael watched as she scanned the kitchen for utensils. Raphael quietly opened a drawer, showing the small piles of knives, forks and spoons. The pair ate their breakfast in silence, staring either at their plates or, in quick glances, each other.
"Raphael!" Anita's voice was a jarring noise in the quiet morning as she ran down the steps and emerged into the kitchen, alert and holding a large, red book. She stopped when she noticed the food. "Breakfast?"
Raphael swallowed, "French Toast."
Anita released a small groan of annoyance. "Great…"
Maria stifled a chuckle. "Told you," Raphael said picking up another plate and passing it to Anita, "Breakfast, then we talk."
*
Anita wolfed down her French Toast at the dining table, finished within five struggled mouthfuls, before slamming the book on the dining table and flicking through its slightly aged pages.
Maria was stunned, unable to touch her food as she watched Anita's quick and feverish attempts to turn pages without ripping the pages. Raphael ate normally, getting up once to get two glasses of orange juice, completely unaffected by Anita's excited outbursts.
She found her page, and inhaled to speak, only for Raphael to place the glass of juice in front of her. She deflated at the sight of it and gave him an irritated glare. "Do you even care that I've found something?"
Raphael gulped down his own juice and released a satisfied sigh. "Of course, I do. But I also enjoy teasing you. Drink." He tapped the tip of her glass, prompting another groan of annoyance as she started quaffing the juice.
Maria's eyes widened again. She leaned across the table, "Is this a regular thing?"
Raphael mirrored her and shrugged, "Semi-regular."
Anita slammed the glass on the table and started panting, having held her breath during the whole guzzle. "Can I talk now? Or are there pancakes somewhere you want to force-feed me?"
Raphael chuckled as he leant back in his chair, "No, I'm fine." He turned slightly to face Anita, "What did you find out?"
Anita sat on her knees as she leaned over her book, at first explaining how she had half a dozen older books on the royal monarch and their heritage. "I had been staring at the symbol from your coin and your necklace last night and-"
"How long were you actually asleep for?" Raphael interrupted.
Anita blinked, "Not important." She continued, "And apparently, the beetle, at one point in history, was rumoured to be the symbol in connection to the royal family." She picked up the book and showed them the open pages. It depicted images of the same symbol the pair had on their jewellery, "Until they started changing it with the new King."
"And it was apparently just in one of your history books?" Raphael asked folding his arms. He found this a strange mixture of amusing and annoying, having stayed up countless hours in libraries and scouring through people's private collections, in search of this symbol and its meaning for months. The fact Anita had found it in one of her own history books brought back weeks' worth of exhaustion in a single moment.
"We had been looking in the wrong place," Anita stated dropping the book with a loud thud on the table. "We've been considering cultural histories, specifically outside of Paris since we believed it was a foreign symbol." She focused on Maria as she quickly explained how they even believed the symbol to come from Egypt, being a beetle and having seen replicas in hieroglyphics neither could read, and having seen it in countless artworks. "But I think we've had it all wrong, I think it may, in fact, be local."
She flipped to the back page and shoved some loose papers out onto the table, none of them from the same book.
The girls watched Raphael squirm at the sight of this. Anita continued to distract him.
"We were attacked by very specific people; knights. Knights are largely viewed in royalty, some form of the monarch, so I considered the hierarchy of Paris." She drew attention to a handful of pages which formed a basic timeline. "It follows history as you'd expect, but." She gestured to early on in Paris Royalty. Raphael and Maria leaned into the timeline, noticing a very faded name of a King.
"King Phillip II…" Raphael breathed. The name was familiar to him, but he couldn't quite place it.
Anita quickly filled him in. "He was the King of Paris from 1180 to 1223, a member of the House of Capet. Eldest son of King Louis VII and third wife Adèle of Champagne, and is the first French monarch to call himself the King of France," as Anita spoke she dropped relevant pages before them, one of a portrait and photographs of sculptures in the past King's likeness.
"I'm with you so far," Raphael assured.
Anita beamed at the praise. "I started noticing some inconsistencies in some retellings of King Phillip II, but here's one I found particularly fascinating." She flicked to a page in the book and pointed to some information on King Louis VII.
"The King wanted Phillip to reign with him, so he intended to have him coronated as soon as possible, like ridiculously as soon as possible. There had been rumours, however small, that he did this so that someone else couldn't take the throne." Anita let Raphael examine the papers. "Last night, they said they were the Unknown Royals and wouldn't be silenced anymore. But there are rumours going around King Louis had a bastard son before Phillip, still a full royal, but just not with who he was married with at the time. While there are no records of the mother, there are countless references to this Prince."
"How come no one knows about this Prince then?" Maria asked, "Wouldn't he be somewhere in the royal timeline?"
"How do you know he isn't?" Raphael asked as he leant heavily on his arms, absorbing the information.
"I know the royal family tree," Maria informed, "From King Phillip II all the way to the Lost Royal, there's no mention of bastard children anywhere. It's classed as a pure line."
Anita was getting excited, squatted in her seat, forgetting she was wearing a dress. "Are you ready for the weird part?"
Maria and Raphael waited.
"This Prince that no one knows anything about other than a mere reference in history, has been nicknamed the Unknown Royal." She slapped a final piece of paper on the table, showing an entire article dedicated to the affairs of Kings and Queens. After a quick scan, Raphael noted what Anita was talking about.
The Unknown Royal was legitimate, but it appeared to be speculation, nothing concrete about their existence. Raphael frowned, "For all we know, that group got inspiration from this."
Anita looked ready to crawl on the tabletop. "But Raphael, only a few people even know about this Prince. Those Unknown Royals seem to know. Who knows what they're planning, but they might be linked to the whereabouts of your Father. Why else would he leave behind an image as specific as this beetle that just so coincidently looks identical to that of the Unknown Royals and this Prince?" Anita was speaking quickly, unable to contain her obvious excitement. She put a piece of paper forward, pointing to a paragraph referencing the beetle symbol. "Raphael, this is the closest we've ever come to maybe finding your Dad."
Raphael fell silent, appearing to lose his composure with his twitchy fingers, before quickly regaining it.
He spoke, "Have you been ripping your history books?"
Anita's excitement disappeared as her face became pale. "Umm…"
Raphael groaned, rubbing his eyes. "You really need to take better care of your books."
Anita became angry. "Raphael! Did you not just hear what I said?!"
Raphael held his hands up and nodded. "I'm proud of you. It's the best lead we've had in a long time. A potential connection between my Father and those… knights…" Raphael felt ridiculous saying this in a serious tone. He felt as if he was telling Anita a story. "And while I do find it… farfetched the say the least, it does deserve further investigation," he admitted drumming his fingers on the table.
After a long quiet moment, he snapped his fingers. "Okay, I have some objectives for today." He looked at Maria, aware that some of these chores may be beneficial for her to come. "You don't have to, but you're welcome to come with us, Maria. We may be able to find some information on those men that went after you, perhaps even why."
Maria's gaze went from Raphael to Anita, before nodding. "If you'll have me."
Raphael nodded, "Excellent." He rose from his chair and stacked the used plates, "Anita, can you please make a phone call for me. I think our friend Sam would be interested in our little affaire here." Anita seemed confused.
"Why are we calling Sam?" she asked.
Raphael stacked the cups and smiled, "Well these Unknown Royals claim to be everywhere. Maybe Sam has heard something, might even have some relevant information for us."
Anita made a long "Oh!" before slipping off the chair and rushing to the next room to get the phone. Maria helped Raphael clear the table.
"Afterwards," Raphael said placing all the dishes in the sink with a glassy clash, "Anita and I will walk you to the church. It's on the way and this will count as Anita's outing for today."
Maria nodded, "Thank you." Raphael nodded his head as he started cleaning the dishes. Maria bit the inside of her cheek as she heard Anita's muffled words in the next room.
"How come Anita isn't at an orphanage?" Maria asked as she placed her own dishes in the sink, "If you haven't adopted her, why is she here?"
Raphael paused, unsure how to delicately explain this subject. "The church of Notre Dame doesn't have an orphanage tie, just the sanctuary. And most orphanages around here aren't very nice," he informed turning the water off with a quiet creak. "I don't know what it's like where you come from, but here little girls don't always end up okay in orphanages." He started scrubbing the plates, "Working on the streets, unfulfilled lives, lost in the system, forgotten. Anita is too bright for that. I don't want to subject her to that, so I haven't advertised that she's an orphan to the public. When they don't know, they don't care, and no one comes after us. And even if some of them knew she'd just be a liability to them, another mouth to feed."
"How come you didn't give her to the church then?" Maria asked rinsing out some of the cups, "I've seen their humane orphan project, it doesn't seem like what you say at all."
Raphael's hands stopped, for the slightest moment, what he was doing. Hidden amongst the bubbles he hands made his hands scrunched into tight fists Maria couldn't see. A wave of anger formed in Raphael's stomach, not towards Maria but that church and their so-called 'humane orphan programme.' He wanted to snap at Maria for this opinion, to tell of his own first-hand experience being there against his will, despite him never having been an orphan, he wanted to yell at her, 'They're nothing more than prestigious child snatchers!' and 'How can you call it humane when there's a bloody standard requirement to even be admitted?!'
But instead, Raphael sighed, the tension that had spread through his shoulders, down his arms and to his hands now gradually relaxed, and he continued washing the plates.
"I just don't think she's better off there, personally."
He washed the dishes of suds and placed them on a rack to drip dry. He grabbed a small rag and passed it to Maria, who started polishing the forks and spoons before putting them away.
"I reckon I've done a good job raising Anita," he assured, "I've done my best to teach her manners and somehow to act like a lady." He chuckled to himself, "Although there's only so much I can teach her. I think I've accidentally raised her to be a boy sometimes."
Maria smiled, "She doesn't often act like it."
Raphael chuckled a little more wholeheartedly. Maria just saw first impressions, but Anita is stubborn, very opinionated and, much to a lot of people's dismay, incredibly bright, unfortunately, to the point where she doesn't see the line between what is appropriate and what isn't.
"You haven't seen the countless tantrums and fits about it," he informed, "But I have an obligation to make her meet certain standards, but some of them are just ridiculous."
"Standards?" Maria asked.
Raphael shrugged, "I suppose I shouldn't call them that." He looked at Maria and folded his arms, "Are there any particular skills you're expected to know where you use to live?"
Maria took a moment of thought before shaking her head. "Nothing specific."
"And have you noticed in your time in Paris a certain… expectation of you?" Raphael's voice was laced with a strange tone of accusation, not aimed at Maria, but rather her answer he knew she had.
Maria recounted the nuns telling her to help them sew clothes, and giving her an errand to run when she couldn't. She had also recalled several other smaller instances, such as the strange stares when she wore trousers one morning, the small scold she got her 'lack of table manners' and other things she wasn't yet accustomed to. "I figured they were simply cultural differences."
Raphael chuckled, "Anita must wear dresses, display elegance and manners, and know-how to mend, sew, and crochet of all things. She's expected to know how to read and write but isn't expected to have thoughts or opinions on them. And she's meant to have culture, somehow speak another language and, one top of all this, be reserved, dignified and well-mannered." He took the dripping plates and tucked them away in their cupboard, "I love Anita the way she is, but she is not any of those things."
Maria was shocked. "That's quite the expectation."
Raphael nodded, heaving a long sigh. "I never gave it much thought, but it's difficult." He felt exhausted thinking about it. His Mother had made it seem effortless. She was a dressmaker, an avid reader, a reserved yet loving woman whom, according to Raphael, travelled for work, could play the piano, harp and a strange string instrument called a lute.
"I'm glad I'm a guy," Raphael said.
Maria shifted her weight from foot to foot. She appeared uncomfortable, eventually stating, "Is that how I am supposed to act?"
Raphael shrugged, "You could probably get away with it. You don't have the accent." He turned the ring on his finger.
Maria frowned, her hand going to her neck. "I didn't think my accent was that much different."
Raphael shrugged again. "It's different enough to be noticed," he informed, "Parisians usually have a thick French accent. Your French accent isn't as strong, potential English even. You can get away with cultural ignorance. Anita usually can't."
Maria's frowned stiffened. "I don't know how I feel about that."
Raphael mentally cursed himself, quickly apologising for potentially insulting her. "I didn't mean anything by it, that's just Paris."
Anita rushed back into the kitchen, holding her book and a handful of pages. "I called Sam," she informed.
"And?"
"Le petit café. We've got until mid-morning to catch Sam, so we need to hurry." Anita nearly dropped the parchments.
Raphael tried to remember where the café was. "Is that by that little fountain with the peeing man?"
Anita couldn't suppress a giggle as she shook her head. "No, it's across from the academy fields."
"Ahh," Raphael nodded, feeling silly quite suddenly. He clapped and rubbed her hands together, "Let's get going then." He started leaving the kitchen, the girls following him. "We'll go meet Sam at the café, walk Maria to her church and then take Anita to the library," he stopped at the foot of the stairs, both girls standing behind him, "Any questions?"
Anita tried to hide a smile behind her papers.
Maria cleared her throat and gestured to her clothes. "Perhaps a wardrobe change, Raphael."
Raphael quickly noticed he was still wearing the pink and yellow apron over his clothes. He struck a pose.
"What's the matter, ladies? Am I too stylish? Fashionable, even?" He struck two more poses, granting him the laughter of both girls before he quickly slipped it off and placed it on a table. "Ladies! Once we are ready, we depart!"