Protecting the crown

Chapter 7

Chapter 7 | Roman |

I walked into the palace kitchens, lead by the delicious scent of sugared buns. Gale must be trying something new, because I could smell a pinch of cinnamon intertwined with the usual honey. The buns were left on a tray, unattended, tempting me to take a bite. I reached over to grab one when my hand got smacked away by a wooden spatula.

"These buns aren't for you." Gale snapped. She wore a red apron today, which complimented her short grey hair. I gave her the sweetest smile, begging for a sugary bun. "Don't give me that look." She said gruffly.

It's time for plan B.

"Is that smoke?" I pointed towards an oven behind her. The second she turned, I snatched a bun and ran as fast as I could in the other direction.

She gasped, "Come back here boy!" I risked a glance over my shoulder to see her chasing after me with her spatula. She came to a stop, panting for breath. "I am too old for this." She gave me a warm smile, deepening the wrinkles on her face.

"Have some, Nanna." I offered. She took a massive chunk out of it and chewed thoughtfully.

"It needs a bit more cinnamon." She commented. I took a bite, but it was perfect to me. I opened my mouth to tell her, but she busied herself with making the second batch. That was my cue to leave.

I silently snuck out of the kitchen back door and out of the palace grounds. I was surprised by how warm it was outside. I desperately fanned myself underneath my sweatshirt to try and cool down. The main market was ten minutes away from the palace, and I reached there in no time.

I scanned the shops for anything that Jules might like. Her thirteenth birthday was coming up in two days and I had no idea what to get.

My gaze snagged on an antique store with cracked windows displaying vintage items.

She would love this.

The bells chimed as I entered the shop, alerting the man working in front of me. He turned around and dusted his greasy palms on his worn out jeans.

"Hello, how can I help you?" I looked around, searching for anything eye-catching. Everything looked rusty to me, but Jules would see the beauty in this.

I stepped past the old man to get a glimpse of his project. My eyes widened in shock; it was perfect. The typewriter gleamed with timeless elegance, it's keys newly polished. I reached out to grab it when I was stopped.

"I would like that one." I pointed to the typewriter.

He visibly paled, wiping sweat off his brow with shaky hands. "This one isn't for sale." He stuttered. I wasn't as convinced though. Everything could be bought with a price.

"How much?" I demanded. I was not leaving this shop without that typewriter.

He tried again, "Look, I'm sorry but-"

I cut him off. "Six hundred quills." His eyes widened with greed, but he remained silent. "Eight hundred." Still, no response.

Damn, this guy is really stubborn.

"One thousand quills." This did the trick. He snapped out of his trance and picked up the typewriter. He stuffed it in a paper bag and shoved it in my direction.

As I walked out of the shop, I heard him curse under his breath. It sounded something along the lines of,  'He's gonna murder me.' It might have been reserved for another customer, but I just bought it.

The sun beat down mercilessly, the sweltering heat threatening to boil me from the insides. I took off my sweatshirt, leaving a thin white shirt underneath. I sighed as I felt the temperature change immediately.

"Is that Prince Roman?" A teen girl screamed to my right and pointed to me. That caused a massive wave of heads to turn my way. Realization dawned on their faces as they recognized me.

After a seconds of stunned silence, the people around me rushed closer, jumping at the chance to see their prince.

I need to get away.

They surrounded me in all directions. There was no escape. I had no choice but to go through the crowd.

I snatched a cap from a nearby stall and covered my face. It didn't make any difference; they still found me.

"Excuse me." I muttered, shoving past people as fast as I could in an attempt to get out of there. The crowd persisted, following me again. I shouldn't have taken off the shirt.

I ducked into a alleyway and pressed myself against the brick wall. That seemed to throw them off my tracks as they blindly carried forward.

The paper bag was slightly wrinkled from the jostling and I prayed that the typewriter was fine. I took it out of the bag to check it's condition, when a slip of paper fell out of the holder. I crouched down to pick it up and a phrase caught my eye.

'In tenebris veritas'

The words seemed oddly familiar, but I couldn't place where I had heard them before. The note was odd. It contained an address to a warehouse in a street I had never heard of before.

I couldn't shake the strange feeling as I continued with my day. Eventually, curiosity overwhelmed me and I went towards Covent street.

It was a tavern. More like a brothel teeming with hungry men. One particular man was harassing a lady in the corner. I glanced just in time to see him flying into the wall by her powerful kick.

Serves him right.

The warehouse was just opposite the road. I made my way towards it, when someone crashed into me. I looked down to see Camila?

"What are you doing here?" She asked me. I fumbled for an excuse but none came, so I deflected the question.

"Do you work here?" I questioned. Why else would she be in near the brothel?

"No." Thank god.

She asked me again, "Are you going in?" I couldn't exactly tell her why I was here so I shook my head. She marched in the direction of the warehouse. Why was she going there?

I had no choice but to follow, until she drove me off by her hostile attitude. I waited for a few minutes, going back to the brothel to knock some sense into the drunk idiot. He was out cold after a few punches and I entered the warehouse. I immediately spotted her by her short, black curls and she was crouched behind a pile of wooden boxes.

I slowly crept behind her, and watched the scene unfolding in front of me. We weren't the only ones in the warehouse. The other two men were in a screaming competition, arguing about some plan.

Camila leaned forward and I grabbed her before she could fall over and reveal our location.

'Be quiet' I signaled. She looked at me in shock.

I guess I wasn't the only one who got a note.