Raphael was covered in sweat when he arrived at the church gate again. Having spent so many years avoiding the grounds, walking through them seemed so emotionally bland now. He lifted his head when he entered the grounds and marched with false confidence into the main church.
Father Brock was delivering a sermon at the altar.
Sister Wendy stood at the back, listening intently to his story.
Raphael quietly approached Sister Wendy, standing next to her in silence out of respect. When the sermon concluded, and the Priest led everyone in hymns, Raphael spoke. "So, Anita is gone."
"I'm a woman of my word," Sister Wendy informed, "I got her adopted as soon as possible. I assume now you won't slander the reputation of this church."
Raphael scoffed, folding his arms. "If anything, this will further my cause to slander this place," he said, "Has Maria left?"
Sister Wendy, slightly jarred from the statement, answered, "No. She should still be here. You can find her in the nuns' quarters."
"Thank you." Raphael walked out of the sermon and into the church grounds, Sister Wendy unable to yell at him to leave the property. Raphael had already ascended the stairs to the nuns' quarters by the time she had followed him.
He had only been in this area once when he was a ward of the church, but as it was only a hallway of rooms, all he did was stroll down and check every door to find one unlocked. All the rooms were vacant, including the one he believed to be Maria's. Her suitcase sat on the floor by her bed. Aside from a few items of clothing in her wardrobe, everyone was packed. No one followed Raphael into the room.
He sat down on the end of her bed and waited, tapping his fingers on his leg impatiently as he looked out the window.
He waited.
And waited.
And waited.
An hour passed, Raphael laid face down on her bed, groaning out of boredom from waiting.
"What are you doing in here?!"
An old voice shrilled into the room, making Raphael jump from surprise. He rolled off the bed and stood, taking off his hat and adopting his friendliest smile. "Sister Alison. It has been a while."
Raphael thought she was dead.
Her face sagged, her body hunched, and her skin was an unhealthy grey. Everything about her mimicking a walking fossil. "What are you doing here!" She repeated with a similar loud shrill.
Raphael withheld a cringe from the noise as he maintained his smile, "I'm looking for Maria-"
"What?" She shuffled forwards and leaned an ear out.
Raphael sighed as he cupped a hand around his mouth and yelled, "I was waiting for Maria!"
She didn't jump from his loud voice but did retract, "I came in here looking for her!" She shouted as if the room was full of noise.
"You mean she's not-"
"Speak up!"
Raphael puffed out his cheeks, irritated. He screamed, "She's not on the church grounds?"
The nun shook her head, Raphael imagining the loud creak. "I was sent up here to look for her! She's going to miss her train!" Sister Alison straightened her back, as much as her old age could do, "She must be hanging out with that Sam boy!"
Raphael smirked, "Sam's not a boy…"
"What!"
He shook his head, losing his patience with this conversation. "Take care, Sister Alison." He touched her on the shoulder on the way past, ignoring her screeches for him to repeat himself.
She's not with Sam, Raphael thought as he walked down the stairs. I wonder where she is.
When he got to the bottom of the stairs, he sighed. He pondered whether Maria may have run away, had enough of Paris and all its people, but doubted it. Raphael pointed out that perhaps she went to get her violin as he strolled through the church grounds, walking past all the nuns and out the front gate. The empty feeling in his heart was still prevalent at not saying goodbye to his friend.
*
Maria felt cold, and her neck ached.
She didn't recognise when she opened her eyes, at one point, her mind taking in her damp environment. When she breathed, it was thick with humid after-stench of the chloroform that caused her stomach to church. Her muscles ached as if she hadn't moved in quite some time, as she pressed her hand against the ground and pushed herself to a sitting position. Despite her sitting, the room spun, and she felt she'd lost her balance as she slouched, her back hitting a hard wall.
Her sense of touch returned, the dull tingling subsiding to feel the rough surface of the damp floor and the cold air in the sticky room. She couldn't see anything. The room was cast in shadows, displaying purples and dark blues on the walls due to a light source on the opposite side of a metal dungeon-like door.
She took a moment to gather her thought, groaning from the throbbing headache and swallowing the lump forming in her throat.
"You should lie back down if you feel sick," a small voice instructed, "On your side, though. You won't choke on your vomit that way."
Maria turned her head and found a small, crouched figure-hugging their knees beside her. "Anita…?" Her first word prompted a mouthful of vomit as she covered her mouth.
Apathetic, Anita told her to vomit the other way. Maria managed to keep from spitting up, pressing her hand against her chest as the sickness seemed to pass. "Where are we?"
"A dungeon," Anita informed, resting her chin into the gap between her knees, "Kinda like a castle."
"Are we in a castle?" Maria gagged as she spat out the foul taste.
"Of course, we aren't. There aren't any castles in Paris that have a functional dungeon," Anita said.
After a long dizzy spell, Maria got to her feet and approached the cell door, attempting to lean out to see. A dark hallway loomed beyond the cell gate to an open doorway at the top of some dark stairs, beside the door, and the only light source for the whole room was a torch with a large flame flicking weakly. Across the hallway, she could see the faint outline of an open dungeon room like theirs. In the agonised silence, Maria heard something dripping echo throughout the room.
"Hello!" she called, "Hello! Let us out of here!"
"Why do you think that'll work?" Anita snapped, "Those are the people that put us in here! Why do you think they'll just let us out if you ask them to!"
Maria swung around, "What else am I supposed to do? There's no light, there's no food, and we've been missing for who knows how long-"
"Forty-six minutes," Anita answered.
Maria sighed as she pinched her nose. "I don't need to know how long we've been down here, Anita." Anita didn't answer.
Maria returned to the door and attempted to find a lock, feeling blind until she felt one. "This'll be tricky," she muttered, "But I may be able to pick this lock." She searched her hair for a hair clip, something with a point, but her hair wasn't tied up. Every pin and clip had been taken while she slept.
"Anita? What happened to my hair clips?" Maria asked.
"I used them," she replied.
"What for?"
"To style my own hair," Anita countered, "What do you think? I had the same idea as you but when we first got here. Your hair clips were too thick to fit in the lock, and your pins snapped when I tried to turn the latch over."
Maria groaned and hit her head against the metal bar; the small action bounced around the cell.
"Don't blame me!" Anita snapped, "What else was I suppose to do? Just wait until you woke up and asked you for the pins? I wanted to get out of here, same as you."
"I know, Anita," she replied. She ran her hands over her arms, realising how cold she was, how hard the stone room was. She leant against the wall and shivered, "It's freezing!"
"Try being conscious for it," Anita countered, hugging herself tighter.
Maria suddenly felt how cold she was, the side she was laying on numb. She stretched out her back and breathed on her hands. "Well… we mustn't lose hope," Maria said, forcing a cheery smile.
Anita didn't lookup.
"They obviously want us for a reason, or they would've probably killed us…" Maria didn't feel very confident when she said this.
"They just want you." Anita's voice was flat as she turned her head away from Maria.
"What?"
"You. They just want you," Anita said more harshly, "Because everything is about you."
The resentment in her voice was unmistakable. "How could you possibly know that?"
"Well, let's see," Anita forced a smile as she uncoiled herself and looked at her, "They think you're the Lost Royal, and you had the pendent that they so desperately want!" Maria reached for her chest again and realised the necklace was no longer on her, a surge of panic running through her before Anita added, "They took it before they dumped us in here."
"Okay, what is your problem?" Maria snapped, folding her arms.
Anita just stared.
"I get that we're in a pretty bad situation here, but your attitude isn't helping."
Anita stood up, her little face glowing red with anger. "Forgive me for not being in my usual chipper mood. But unlike me, you have people who will be looking for you," she said, "You'll have people wondering where you are, concerned for your safety, hoping you're alright. Meanwhile, for me, everyone thinks I've been adopted by a couple who work for these lunatics. No one will look for me! They'll only be looking for you!" Anita's voice cracked, but the rest of her face was wound in a fury.
"Why did they kidnap you then if they're so fixated with me?" Maria countered.
"Because they still think Raphael gives a damn about me," She finally started swelling with tears, her voice wobbling as her anxiety started to show, "I'll be nothing but a means of blackmail, maybe. I'll be of no use to them if Raphael doesn't obey and hand over their precious ring!"
Anita's upper body started to rock back and forth, eventually opting to sit on the ground and hug herself again, the cell ringing with her sobs.
"Anita…" Maria slowly approached, kneeling beside her, "Of course Raphael cares."
"How could you possibly know that?" Her voice was muffled in her knees.
Maria pondered lying, telling her that she had seen him and how he regretted his decision and wanted her back. Making up a story about how he wished he could turn back the clock and take back what he had done at the church. But she didn't want to be caught in a lie, especially not now.
"Because I went to see him," Maria informed, "I found him at a strange tavern for criminals."
Anita's crying stopped as she slowly lifted her head. "He went back there?"
Maria was concerned she knew where she was talking about but nodded. "Yes. And I've heard the story about his gambling and his anger issues," she added, "That was all in response to you, to what he did. He regrets that decision immensely, Ann. He's punishing himself over it."
Anita's breathing became heavy as she forced the last of her tears to drip down her face. "Why did you come here?" she breathed so softly, Maria almost didn't hear it. "Why did you come to us for help? If we had gone down a different bridge, went a different night, did anything differently, none of this would've happened."
Maria felt hurt, the feeling almost turning to anger as she politely said, "Anita, you know that's not true. They may have captured me that night, perhaps hurt you or Raphael to get that ring, and then we may have all be in the same place now just as strangers."
"That may have been better," Anita hiccupped, "Everything was fine until you came along."
Maria felt another prod at her emotions, a little saddened this was how Anita felt, "Ann, I was trying to help him find his Father."
"No, you're not!" Anita yelled. She struck Maria across the face with the back of her hand, her breathing so unsteady and her eyes almost crazed, but in a split moment, her eyes changed to something horrified and devastated as she sunk back to the floor and held herself. "We weren't finding his Father anymore. We were helping you."
The sting of the slap was fresh on Maria's face, the cold causing it to linger as she kneeled there in shock. Fighting back her own tears, Maria sat down next to Anita, unable to prevent her lower lip from quivering as she rubbed her cheek.
"I'm sorry I hit you…" Anita's voice was the smallest Maria had ever heard, "I'm just upset."
Maria didn't say anything, just continued to massage her cheek as the dull throb subsided.
"I don't hate you just so you know," Anita informed.
Maria looked at her and half smirked. "Seems debatable." Anita cracked a smile. "Anita, I would never try to get between you and Raphael."
"It sure seemed like it," Anita snapped; noticing her tone of voice, she sighed. "Do you like him?"
Maria stayed silent, unsure of how to answer.
"Raphael is his own person," Anita said, her voice continued to crack, "He can make his own choices, make and break his own promises." Anita wiped her eyes, "He has that way with people, girls and boys, old people, young people… even animals like him. He has that presence, that confidence that just makes you feel safe." Anita's smile was the warmest thing in the room. "You felt that the night we saved you on that bridge, didn't you? When he carried you, held you close until he knew you were safe?"
Maria remembered what she was talking about, subconsciously hugging her knees in an attempt to lessen the chilly feeling in their cold prison cell.
"Raphael just has to be there for people to like him," Anita's voice wobbled, her lips quivered, "I fell for it too, just like you did, and just like all other girls before you."
Maria didn't take Anita's words to heart. In fact, she took them into consideration the more she talked, recognising how much Anita was hurting.
Anita attempted to say more, but her hitched breathing wobbled, causing her body into a fit of shakes. Her eyes were downcast, tears dripped down her cheeks, unprovoked by her looks. "I need one of Raphael's hugs..." she said quietly.
Maria was distressed seeing Anita in such a state and slowly shuffled closer to her until she sat beside her. Anita leaned into the gesture, her body heat a welcomed warmth for Maria as she rested her arms around her.
"I want to hate him..." she said through her teeth, "I want to hate you... but I can't."
Maria patted Anita's arm, gently stroking the little girl's shivering body as both girls started to get drowsy. She rested her cheek on the top of Anita's head but was jerked back to alertness when the door scraped across the ground with a loud screech. Like the knights who had attacked her on the bridge, a man in silver armour crowded the doorway. The feather from his helmet clipping the top of the door as he entered. Standing in the hallway behind him were two other men, both dressed similarly.
Maria tightened her grip around Anita. "What do you want?"
"The girl." The man's voice was a low croak. Despite the armour, it didn't disable his ability to reach forwards and grab Anita's arm, yanking her from Maria's grip.
"No! Let go of her!" Maria followed Anita to her feet and attempted to pull her from the guard's grip.
Anita squealed when he threw his other arm against Maria's torso, causing her to slam into the wall aiding her belly. Despite the new pain, she tried to stand but needed the wall for balance. "Let her go…" she weakly managed as she stumbled forwards, this time kicked back.
"Quit struggling girl," the guard demanded as he held her by the back of the neck. Anita kicked at him, clawing at his metal hand as he revealed a dagger once concealed on his hip.
The shine of the knife, even in the dull light, gleamed over Maria and gave her the strength to rise again. The man brought the blade to Anita, who screwed her eyes closed.
He sliced through her hair in one efficient swish and dropped Anita. Her legs gave out when she landed, but she immediately crawled to Maria, who latched her arms around her small figure, holding her head away from the knights. The one who had cut her hair scooped up a handful of blonde locks from the ground, turned, and left without an explanation. One of the other guards locked the door, who also had nothing to say, and they all disappeared from the dungeon.
Maria felt her jaw clatter, her stomach searing with pain, but she ignored it as Anita whimpered into her shoulder. Unable to speak until, somehow, she had fallen asleep against her.