"Hey! What are you two doing?!" someone demanded.
At the mouth of the hall, a guard approached, his rifle rested on his shoulder as he marched towards the pair. Raphael slowly rose, palms forward and explanation at the ready, "I was just tying my shoes, sir."
"I can see that, what're you two doing here?" His voice was a consistent gruff shout.
Anita hugged Raphael's waist as she looked up at her.
"My little sister hasn't ever been to the palace, sir. She's really into exploring, I just didn't want her wandering around on her own," Raphael explained resting a hand on her back. "If this is troublesome, we'll go back."
The guard's expression softened as he folded his arms, "You two are out of bounds. Come with me, I'll escort you back to the ballroom." He held an arm out as a gesture for where to go. Raphael bowed his head and ushered Anita along, the guard guiding them back to the ballroom. No one reacted to their return.
Raphael thanked the guard and hugged the edge of the ballroom, Anita next to him, as they slowly shimmied to another doorway, slipping down a different corridor hoping to not run into the same guard.
"Wasn't that our last heist?" Anita asked struggling to keep up with Raphael without falling over.
He nodded.
"So, are we just not going to do anything?" Anita asked.
Raphael shrugged, "No need," he looked around the corner before continuing, "If it's the real deal there's no need for us to replace it. My Father must not have been here before he disappeared."
"So, we're done then?" Anita said happily.
"There's still that one in Her Majesty's Opera House," Raphael assured absently going down a hall to some stairs.
"How do you know that one's a fake?" Anita quizzed at the top of the stairs.
"There's a replica painting of it at home. My Father would've seen it every day, no way he didn't get to it in time," Raphael as he started skipping steps.
"Didn't you think that for the painting here in the palace?" Anita asked.
Raphael chuckled, "So I made a mistake. Can't be perfect in my assessment of paintings all the time."
Anita stopped on one of the steps, furrowing her brows. "That doesn't fill me with confidence, Ralph."
Raphael stopped in his tracks and turned to look up to her, "We're so close, Ann. Don't you trust me?"
Anita jumped, nodding her head as she sprinted down the remaining steps to him. "Of course I trust you Raphael, it's just-"
He held a hand up to hush her. "Let's be quick then." With that, he continued down the steps and peered down the corner.
Anita paused. "Do you know where you're going?" Anita asked, feebly following him down the steps.
"I've seen blueprints of this place," he informed waiting at the bottom for her.
"From the libraries?" Anita held her arms out, Raphael picked her up and started running down the halls with her on his back.
"Yep."
"I've seen those too." They passed several doorways Anita could barely steal a glance into. "They aren't exactly recent, Ralphie."
Raphael stopped at the sight of a guard, quickly reversing and lowering his voice.
"I'm aware, Ann, but if they built the palace based on those blueprints I doubt they've demolished and redone the lower foundations." Raphael squatted by a side table, Anita pressing her head against his back as the guard continued past the corridor, not seeing them.
The pair slowly looked out from their hiding spot before Raphael rose again and continued.
"But they could've changed the purpose of the rooms, or added walls or other rooms or anything!" Anita took off Raphael's hat and put it on her own.
Raphael hushed her as he looked to the marching guard. He ran for the opposite wall and quickly opened and closed a door. Anita complained about the darkness as Raphael put her down, taking back his hat as he searched blindly. He patted the walls for a light switch or perhaps a lamp, but couldn't find one. The room was pitch black with no windows and light. Anita yelped when she ran into a desk, eventually sitting on the floor until Raphael could find a light.
Raphael struggled, when he eyes adjusted he still couldn't tell what was wall or space. Making a daring move, he touched the door, so it would open barely an inch allowing a crack of light to seep through. From the outside, it would've merely looked like a draft. With the limited light, he could see the outline of furniture, the room filled to the brim with wooden furnishings and filing cabinets.
Raphael found a light switch but watched as the guard approached again. He noted the door and pulled it open. Raphael pressed his back by the door while Anita crawled under a desk, out of the light of the doorway. The guard lingered at the door, looking inside to investigate if someone was in there.
Raphael caught Anita's eye and raised a finger to his lips in a hush gesture. The seconds dragged for the duo as the guard eventually pulled out of the room, closing the door as he went. Raphael counted to ten and turned on the lights.
The record room was enormous, lined with wooden filing cabinets neatly organised by year, the earliest listing 1300, everything before was unlisted. Aside from one desk squashed between the cupboards all the pair could see were cabinets. Anita crawled from under the desk and approached a cabinet, with some effort opening the top drawer to find countless papers, each labelled by year and Royal at the time. "Can I swear, Ralphie?"
Raphael's eyes grew wide at how filled that one drawer was. He frowned at the sight of it, flicking through the files and sighing. "There are no specific dates after 1300," he stated slamming the drawer closed and taking off his hat to fix his hair.
Anita opened the second drawer and flicked through the files, noting the new paper despite the older dates, aside from some crumbling birth certificates.
Raphael sighed rubbing his temples as he tried to think.
'Ignore everything post-1300, he mused, King Phillipe reigned from 1180 to 1223 and was a member of House of Capet. Previous King was King Louis VII and the next King was Louis VIII, followed four years in 1226 by Louis IX until 1270. The Iron King Phillip IV is the earliest recorded with an ending reign in 1314…'
Raphael found King Phillip IV, aka The Iron King, noticing seven cabinets to his left and dozens to his right.
"Ignore this," Raphael gestured right, "Focus on the time period from this," he gestured left. He opened a drawer and flicked through them, Anita beginning on the one next to him. "King Louis VII was the king before Phillipe, King Louis VIII was the one after."
Anita nodded skimming through irrelevant papers and frowning, "Umm… Raphael." He looked down, Anita was searching through the middle of three drawers next to him, holding the beginning of King Louis' file. Raphael sighed seeing three drawers' worth of files to comb through.
"Merveilleux…" He placed his hat on the desk and sighed, "Alright. Look for anything that may lead to an Unknown Royal. An inconsistency, a name, a connection to another woman of Royalty, just anything. If the Unknown Royal does exist at all it's bound to be here somewhere."
"Right, chief." Anita pulled a small stack from the drawer and plonked on the floor, spreading them out in a spiral around her.
Raphael started from the opposite end and took the desk, making neat stacks either side of him as he started.
Their piles became tall, the drawers gradually emptying as each skimmed through family names, ancestor trees, significant events, authentication of birth and death certificates. Many of the files held irrelevant information, such as potential marriages, successful hunting trips, and Raphael found pages from a Queen's diary, as well as letters from other kingdoms, addressed to the monarch.
Anita sighed for the twelfth time, resting her forehead against the ground. Raphael was close to his limit too, returning to the long nights of research he had done when his Father first disappeared, or the countless days the pair spent cooped up in libraries. "Push through, Ann. My Father is here somewhere, I know it."
Anita raised her head and sighed for the thirteenth time as she moved onto another folder. The more she read the tighter her face became as she became confused. "Raphael," she sat up, "I think I may have something."
Raphael grabbed his hat and quickly sat on the floor to shuffled over to Anita, looking over at the papers she was holding. It was a ripped piece of parchment, stained from age and handwritten in messy black ink, with badly drawn images of a crown, a necklace and a ring. The writing around the images were blurbs of witchery.
"There isn't much to go on, but apparently the ring and the crown were hexed," Anita informed gesturing to a small paragraph. "It talks about a spell or something…" she shook her head dropping the paper, "Magic doesn't exist, right?"
"What?"
A look of fright came across Anita, her eyes grew wide and her breath hitched in the back of her throat. "Si effrayant..."
"Anita? What is it?"
"Black magic… It doesn't exist, right?"
Raphael gave her a quizzical look. Anita didn't elaborate, merely added, "Raphael this shouldn't be possib-"
"Who's in there?!" A voice boomed from the door, a guard realising the light coming from the doorframe of the record room.
Raphael stumbled to his feet and fell against the wall by the door the moment it opened, a palace guard leading with his gun into the room. He immediately saw Anita sitting in the centre of a paper circle. She got to her feet and held her hands in surrender while the man yelled at her in English, noted she wasn't responding and attempted French, only for a similar reaction.
She couldn't muster up a reason why she was there, all she could do was watch Raphael as he inched around the door behind the guard, and kicked the guard's knee, forcing him to kneel before punching him in the upper back stunning his upper body as he collapsed on the ground. He was still conscious and cursed in pain as he hissed demands. Raphael held a hand out to Anita to leave. She scooped up a handful of paper, scrunching them in her hand and stuffing them down her dress to run, hopping over the guard to take Raphael's hand.
Raphael watched as the guard started getting up. He knew he hadn't paralysed him, but every time he had to attack someone a paranoia choked him he had done something wrong, hit the person too hard or in the wrong place, not taken something into account or taken too much into account. Seeing the guard move to get up calmed Raphael as he quickly closed the door and followed Anita down the hallway.
She waited at the stairs, a runaway look in her eyes, as she sprinted up the steps two at a time, out of Raphael's reach. He chased after her, her frantic steps barely outrunning him as the sound of ballroom chatter grew louder. Before the archway to the ballroom, Raphael caught Anita's arm, her eyes still wide and frantic.
"Anita. Calm. Calm yourself." He held her closer, her body rigid in his arms. "You're safe. I promise you're safe."
The young girl's body trembles gradually slowed, and with a sigh pulled away from Raphael, the runaway look in her eyes gone. "I'm okay..." she pressed a hand to her eye, likely to hide an overwhelmed tear, "I feel sick
They forced themselves to stop, each heavily panted beside a doorway, Anita expressing she felt sick as she sat down on the ground.
Raphael smirked and leant on his knees to catch his breath. He placed his hat upon his head, worried he had ruined its shape from how tightly he held it. The thief caught his breath and buttoned his waistcoat, looking carefully into the ballroom.
"I saw you took some documents," he whispered between deep breaths.
Anita offered a hand gesture and a nod.
"Just out of breath? Something wrong with your heart?" Raphael asked.
Anita shook her head and repeated her gesture. "I'm… fine…" she wheezed coughing, "Bit of a fright. He saw me, Raphael. He saw my face."
Raphael picked her up off the ground and placed her on her feet. "Do you want to go home?" he asked, "If you're that worried about it we can go home now."
Anita shook her head, her breathing evening out. "No. We still need to find that crown."
Raphael rubbed the back of his neck and sighed. "Okay. Maria told me there's going to be a distraction at some point in the evening."
"What's the distraction?"
"I'm not sure, she didn't tell me."
"And you're going to take her word for that? How does she know there's going to be a distraction?"
"I trust her, Ann." Raphael assured.
Anita scoffed, folding her arms. "Fine. So, there's a distraction. What's the plan?"
"If you���re up for it, we'll make a break for the crown during this distraction. Get the crown, get it past the guards and leave the palace. Early night for both of us." Raphael could hear the bitterness in Anita's words, see her growing frustration with everything, but he was determined to make this up to her. "I promise."
"Pinkie promise?" Anita held her pinkie out.
Raphael took it firmly in his own. "Pinkie promise." The two nodded and walked back into the crowd, Raphael rested a hand on Anita's shoulder. "Just keep low if you're worried," he informed as the two saw some guards talking and rush out of the ballroom. Anita nodded as she approached the food table again, Raphael keeping an eye on her to make sure she didn't attack the same boy, he didn't appear nearby.
*
Lie eight, Maria counted after complimenting a supposed Royal's blue dress. She glanced at Mr Durand, who gave her a wink. It somehow calmed her nerves as she forced a smile and the occasional laugh as this woman spoke.
Maria's eyes wandered out the window again, half-listening to the politics of these men and women.
"…And I can't believe after all this time it's finally happening," the woman in blue smiled, suddenly extremely excited.
Maria quickly paid attention, realising the situation needed her to speak as everyone looked at her expectantly. Her mouth went dry, "Pardon?"
"Aren't you excited? Weren't you trapped in an old dirt town up until this point?" the woman asked.
Maria suppressed her urges to snap or show a physical reaction, understanding to this woman her home would've been a dirt town. Maria shook her head, "I'm not excited, I'm quite nervous actually. That little dirt town is all I've known for the past seventeen years." Maria's spite was somehow kept in check, much to her own surprise.
Mr Durand sensed the touchy subject and was quick to change the topic. "May we see the pendant, Miss Stephany?"
Maria allowed a sigh as she slipped the necklace over her head and held it out. The half a dozen men and women before her gawked in front of it, as if they had never seen something like this before. "Is the Queen aware, Monsieur Durand?"
He nodded slowly, "She's aware. She shall make an appearance shortly."
"How exciting." Lie nine.
"If you'll excuse us, please." Mr Durand gently nudged Maria to follow him. The royal crowd farewelled and wished her luck as they dispersed back to what they were doing before. "You feel okay?" he asked.
Maria sighed regaining her posture as people stared. "Yes." Lie ten.
He smirked, "This will be a hard adjustment for everyone, both for the Queen and you. But over time you will be fine, I'll be here to help you out."
Maria nodded, "Thank you."
The Herald suddenly bellowed a loud noise. "Ladies and gentlemen!"
The pair looked to the man. "They'll announce the Queen's presence, there'll be a lot of noise and bowing, she'll take her seat and then I present you. Okay?"
Maria gulped and nodded as the Herald continued. "I present Her Majesty, Queen Elizabeth!" The announcer bowed, gesturing his long arm to the heavy doors two waiters struggled to open.