Chương 26: Dusting

I headed to the bustling market with a vague plan and a heavy purse of gold. Juliette thought I couldn't do it—find where the prince hid his vault key, steal it, and rob the royal vault. Yes, it sounds like a lot. But what Juliette didn't know is that I had read all twelve volumes of The Scandalous Adventures of Fifi LaRousse. Robbing a palace vault was a classic textbook case for me. But, of course, it was only possible because of Juliette's time-looper notes—that GUI thing.

Not only did it give me a mountain of useful information about the palace staff and royal guards, but it also mentioned that the prince had a fourteen-year-old sister, Princess Charlotte. She lived in the palace and was, by all accounts, an absolute menace. That detail was the linchpin of my plan. On the way, I told Suzy my strategy. She clapped her tiny paws excitedly, calling me a genius. No one had ever called me that before, but I wasn't going to argue. The first stop was Théodore's jewelry shop.

It was a small, highly suspicious place tucked away in a back alley, which I already knew well. If there was one single, measly useful thing I had learned from my mother, it was how to buy fake jewelry.

"Théodore!" I called out as I pushed open the door, triggering a loud, clanging entrance bell.

"Are you here?" The store was the farthest thing from a traditional jewelry shop. It was absolute chaos. Mountains of tarnished metal parts, discarded clockwork, loose gears, and half-finished trinkets covered every available surface. It looked more like a tinkerer's scrapyard than a boutique. Théodore himself was hidden behind a towering pile of junk on his workbench.

"Oh, a customer!" The old shopkeeper shoved a mountain of debris aside to take a peek, squeezing his eye shut to hold a thick jeweler's loupe in place.

"Oh, it's Tremaine's daughter!" he smiled at me.

"Drizella, was it? Been some time since I saw you around! Have you… grown up?"

"Not in the slightest," I told him.

"Listen, Théodore, I need you to make me a fake piece of jewelry."

"Ah, what? Fake?" He shook his head vigorously.

"No, no, miss. What I do here is… eh, Boutique Gilded Ware, yes…"

"Sure, then do that," I said.

"I need a very specific tiara." I handed him the terrible tiara drawing of mine, made more or less according to the description in Juliette's papers.

"It must be a high, triangular golden crown," I explained, "with several sharp vertical points that grow taller toward the center. Each peak is topped with a large square-cut emerald, supported by a base of solid baguette-cut diamonds." He squinted through his heavy loupe at the crude sketch.

"That can be done… I'd say… three days."

"Two hours," I countered, slamming a heavy golden Louis coin onto the table with a sharp clank.

"You get one more gold piece when you're done in time. Also, break this other Louis into twenty francs for me, will you?" He looked stunned at the sight of the gold, but then a bright smile spread across his face.

"Two hours it is." After Théodore's, I went to a general store to buy a rope ladder, as well as a simple coil of strong hemp rope. Next was a large commoners' clothier, where I browsed through a sea of maid dresses and picked out the absolutely cutest one. Then I visited the local apothecary, purchasing a small bottle of chloroform. But I wasn't done yet. Provisions were in order. I bought myself some strawberry jam, a fresh loaf of bread, and a wheel of Camembert cheese.

You never know when a snack will come in handy during a highly dangerous secret mission. I also bought a sturdy leather workbag to carry everything, except for the rope ladder, which was too bulky and had to be carried by hand. Overall, the shopping took about two hours, putting me right on schedule. Now it was back to Théodore's shop. Gling, gling! the entrance bell announced my return to the chaotic shop.

"How is it, Théodore? Done yet?" I found him hunched over his bench, working a red-hot iron rod over a piece of setting, a wisp of smoke curling into the air.

"Yes, yes, it's coming along," he muttered, not looking up.

"Good, very good. It will be better than the original. Much better. I used polished green sea-glass for the emeralds, and cut rock crystal to perfectly mimic the diamonds. A good brass base with a heavy gold wash gives it the exact luster of solid gold." I looked over his shoulder. It was perfect. I almost wanted to keep it for myself. I waited for him to finish his final tweaks and polish it up, thanked him, gave him his second coin and was on my merry way.

"I like him," Suzy remarked, peeking out from my pocket.

"He makes pretty things."

"Yes, he is talented," I said.

"Probably half of my mother's jewelry is his…

'Boutique Gilded Ware,' as he calls it."

"Are we done with the shopping?" Suzy asked.

"Yes, everything we need for the plan," I said.

"Now we just need to catch a fiacre carriage and head to the palace!"

"Ooooh, this is so much fun!" Suzy squeaked.

"I've never been so far from home! And I've never ridden in a carriage before!" We waited for the absolute fanciest carriage to pass by, but after half an hour with no luck, we compromised on something merely adequate. Once inside, Suzy could finally come out of hiding, pressing her tiny nose against the glass window for the entire ride, chirping, "Preeettttyyy!" Well, even if our mission failed and we found ourselves in a dungeon by the end of the day, at least Suzy was having a good time.

The ride was pleasant, and I enjoyed the view as well. Soon enough, the carriage rattled to a halt just outside the towering iron gates of the palace grounds. We walked along the outer palace's wall until we reached the large oak tree leaning against the stone wall—the very same tree Cinderella and I had climbed some cycles ago. It was also a good spot to change into my maid outfit.

"Keep watch, Suzy," I instructed.

"Make sure no one is peeking."

"But there's no one here!" she squeaked.

"You can never know!" After changing, I looked up and down the massive tree trunk. I could have tried to enter through the main gate—I had a solid cover story, after all—but the gate guards were prone to asking thorough, irritating questions about unfamiliar staff. That might lead them to summon the High Steward, which would ruin everything. Sneaking in was much safer; a new maid already bustling about inside the palace walls arouses far less suspicion than one demanding entry at the front door. So now…

I actually need to climb this stupid tree again. I took a deep breath and tossed the rope ladder over the lowest branch. Gripping the ropes, I climbed the rungs, pulled myself up, and swung a leg over the wood. It worked. I smiled proudly to myself. My grand plan consisted of many small, moving parts, and while it all looked brilliant in my head, I knew that if even one minor detail failed, the whole scheme would crumble. At least this part worked: I could climb a tree.

I pulled the ladder up, tossed it over the next branch, and climbed again. Then the next. And the next. Then… I made the mistake of looking down.

"By Jove, I'm going to die!" I gasped at the sheer height, hugging the rough tree trunk for dear life.

"I can't… I can't do it." Suzy effortlessly hopped to the next branch, then back to mine, strutting back and forth like she was taking a leisurely promenade. She was a mouse, not a cat!

"It's soooo easy!" she giggled.

"This branch is wide and stable! Why are you so scared?" The fact that a tiny rodent was laughing and looking down on me provided just enough humiliation to push through my panic. I put on a brave face, took a deep breath, and unpeeled myself from the bark. I tossed the ladder over the final branch, hoisted myself up, and took a desperate, ungraceful leap onto the wide stone surface of the palace perimeter wall. I lay flat on the cold stone for a long moment, catching my breath.

Peeking down into the royal gardens, I saw the coast was clear. Good. It wouldn't do me any good to get caught coughing and wheezing on top of the wall. I climbed down the hidden stone stairs. Once I was safely inside the garden, I paused. I straightened my grey skirt and smoothed my apron. Then, I marched confidently toward the heavy side doors of the palace. No guard was posted at this entrance. I pushed the door open and walked down a short hall. And just like that, I was standing in the grand ballroom.

It was almost offensive how easy it was to break into this place. It's a miracle the King wasn't assassinated on a weekly basis. Now I was standing in the massive ballroom, a room which I knew quite well by now. And… I need to immediately look busy, I think. Oh.. I really should have bought a dusting brush at the market! My cover story was simple. According to Juliette's G. U. I. notes, a palace maid named Ann had been out with a terrible cough for a while.

I would claim that Jean, the strict High Steward, had personally hired me from town as her temporary replacement. Jean himself was mostly supposed to be working in the completely opposite side of the palace—the East Wing, where the King's offices and the Grand Duke's chambers were. I was currently in the West Wing, where the ballroom, the secure vaults, and the Prince's private quarters were located. Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website.

Just then, another maid entered the ballroom. She was short, older, and plump, with a prominent mole on her cheek. This was Geneviève. Juliette's notes had dedicated a good half-page to her: twenty years of service, a widow, and a gossip. She spotted me and marched purposefully in my direction. I straightened my posture, taking a deep breath. I need to act now.

"What have we here!" she said, her small eyes widening.

"A new face! It's not every day we get someone new!"

"My name is Sophie," I said, deploying the shy, innocent expression I had meticulously practiced in front of the mirror.

"This is… my first day. Jean didn't tell me much, just to do a… a good job." Jean was a huge jerk; I knew that for a fact, too.

"Poor thing!" she said sympathetically.

"Come, come, I'll show you the ropes!" She grabbed my hand and pulled me along. We marched through corridor after corridor. I barely kept track of the dizzying array of doors and hallways, desperately trying to overlay our path onto the mental map of the palace I had memorized. Straight down the main corridor, through a large parlor, a sharp left turn, another long hallway… If my mental map was correct, we were heading toward… Oh, no.

"And this is the kitchens!" Geneviève announced brightly.

"Chef Gustave is always short on help. Just today he threatened to poison the King and burn the palace down. Heavens, they'll execute him for treason one of these days. You will start with the dishes. Most maids start there until they learn their way around. Tomorrow, we can also do some dusting." She deposited me in front of Gustave.

"Be nice!" she yelled at him.

"It's her first day!" Chef Gustave's face was the color of an overripe tomato, veins bulging in his neck as if he'd been screaming since dawn—which, according to his file, he probably had. He looked me up and down with utter disdain.

"Well, what are you waiting for, a royal decree?" he barked, gesturing wildly.

"These dishes won't clean themselves! Look at this rubbish! It's a pigsty! A pigsty! I don't need to poison anyone; the filth in this kitchen will do it for me! Get to work! Stop standing there staring at me like a porcelain doll with nothing between its ears!"

"Very good," Geneviève said to Gustave with a firm nod, "and keep it that way!" Wait, that was him being nice? What a horrible little man! Geneviève bustled away, leaving me alone with a sink full of filthy dishes and a red-faced Gustave.

"Well?" Gustave barked again.

"Get to it!" I stared at the sink. These were food leftovers… that other people had eaten. Ew. That was genuinely repulsive. I reached out and pinched the very edge of a grime-covered plate between two fingers, lifting it as far away from my face as humanly possible. I slowly picked up a damp sponge with my other hand and lightly tapped the plate. Nothing happened. Was I supposed to… rub it? What if the stranger's discarded food touched my skin? I noticed Gustave staring at me, his eyes bulging out of his head.

"What in all the heavens are you doing!?" I dropped the plate back into the murky water with a splash.

"This is repulsive, really," I stated plainly, dropping the act.

"I am not doing this."

"Wha—what!?" Gustave stammered, completely stunned.

"How dare—""Do them yourself if it's so important to you," I huffed, turning on my heel.

"I have much more important business to attend to." Gustave's mouth hung open, but no words came out. Weird, I assumed he'd be much chattier. I marched out of the kitchen. Granted, completely breaking my shy, humble maid persona in front of the head chef was a slight deviation from the plan, but I drew the line at touching peasant backwash. Besides, I did have important business to attend to. After all, the palace vaults weren't going to rob themselves. I still needed to look busy, though.

Wandering down a hallway, I spotted a young maid I didn't recognize. She was holding a pristine feather duster, gently sweeping it over a large porcelain vase. Now that was an acceptable chore. I walked straight up to her.

"Oh, hello there," she said quietly.

"I haven't seen you around, are you…?"

"Give it here!" I said sharply, and snatched the feather duster right out of her hand. She looked shocked. Oh, blast it! I was acting like the normal me again. It was so difficult to treat servants like actual people, especially when they weren't Cinderella.

"Oh, I'm so sorry," I quickly pivoted back to my shy, innocent expression.

"I meant to say, thank you. Since we are equals, of course, I will gladly take over the dusting here. You can go do… well, other servant things." I vigorously started dusting the vase. But the girl didn't leave. She just stood there, staring at me. Oh no, was she suspecting me? Could she run to Jean and make terrible trouble for me? Should I chloroform her right now, tie her up, gag her, and hide her unconscious body in the nearest broom closet!?

But then her polite composure returned, and she offered a sympathetic nod.

"I know the first day can be… rather stressful," she said softly.

"You just keep dusting. Take it slow, catch your breath."

"Ah, yes. Of course," I said. And with that, she went on her way.

"Dusting was delightfully easy," I thought, looking around for another target. A vase, a painting, or a statue would do—like that ornate urn in the corner. I'll just give it a good whack— Poof! A massive, choking cloud of gray dust exploded directly into my face.

"Phpphfhpfhfff! COUGH! COUGH!" I hacked, waving my hands blindly. My eyes watered, and my mouth tasted like ancient dirt. Ew! Whatever. From now on, I decided I would only lightly brush the very tip of the duster over things that were already clean. Yes, that was a much better strategy. For the next phase of my master plan, I needed to find Pierre. He was the Prince's closest attendant—the one Cinderella and I had seen walking with the Prince in a previous cycle.

Unfortunately, most of the GUI information Juliette provided didn't cover the events of this specific loop, so I had no idea exactly where Pierre or the Prince would be at this hour. I only knew the Prince's general schedule: he ate a lavish breakfast with important diplomats, attended fencing practice in the courtyard, held endless strategy meetings in the afternoon, and usually took an evening stroll through the gardens with Pierre just before the ball.

As for Pierre, his duties meant he wasn't glued to the Prince's side all day. He spent his time arranging the Prince's meetings, reviewing security details with the guard captains, and managing the royal schedule. He had to be wandering around this part of the palace somewhere, but I hadn't spotted him yet. I walked through every room and corridor I could find, diligently dusting the cleanest pictures and statues I saw. It was actually somewhat relaxing.

But after some time had passed, I began to feel a deep sense of unease. My time here was strictly limited. Every passing hour increased the chance that the High Steward would catch wind of a "new maid" wandering the West Wing and come investigating. I thought about actively asking the other guards or servants where Pierre was, which is something I really didn't want to do as it would draw attention. But then, as I peered around a corner, I saw him!

He was standing in a large, empty dining room, talking quietly to a tall guard. Perfect. Now it was time for my genius plan to unfold. I started crying. With my face turned down toward the floor, feather duster clutched tightly in my hand, I sobbed quietly to myself. I positioned myself near a massive stone pillar—close enough for Pierre to hear me, but far enough away to look natural. When I heard heavy footsteps approaching, I peeked through my fingers, then quickly averted my gaze to look properly ashamed.

No more slipping up; I had to make this act count.

"Are you alright, miss?" Pierre asked, approaching me carefully." Sniff, sniff." I wiped my eyes with the back of my dusty hand, letting out a wavering breath.

"Y-yes, sir. I'm sorry, sir. I just…"

"You're the new servant, aren't you?" he asked gently.

"I just had a word with Chef Gustave. He… had some things to say."

"It's my first day, sir, Sniff, sniff,"" I sobbed, my voice trembling.

"I didn't want to be a bother to anyone…"

"Oh, you're not a bother," Pierre reassured me.

"Please, tell me what has caused you such distress. Has someone wronged you?" Oh, this was going perfectly! I was a natural!

"I was just… I was cleaning Princess Charlotte's room," I mumbled through my tears, "and I just found it on the floor! I didn't think I should just leave it there, but I didn't know who to give it to! I was so afraid that…"

"What are you talking about?" he asked gently, stepping closer.

"What exactly did you find?" With trembling hands, I reached into my leather workbag and slowly pulled out the beautiful fake emerald and diamond tiara.

"Please… please don't be mad at me!" I wailed loudly, bursting into full, undignified, heaving sobs now!

"Oh, please don't cry, miss," he said, his eyes widening as he quickly took the tiara from my hands, inspecting it.

"You did absolutely nothing wrong."

"I didn't?" I hiccupped.

"No," he said firmly.

"It is very fortunate that you picked this up and brought it straight to me."

"So… I'm not in trouble?" I sniffled, wiping my nose.

"No, miss, of course not," Pierre managed a strained smile.

"In fact, I praise you for your honesty and dedication. Yes… do dry your tears. I will be sure to mention your good character to the Prince."

"Oh… thank you."

"The only one who should be in trouble is the young Princess," Pierre muttered, his voice dropping into a stiff, irritated tone.

"She undoubtedly coaxed the King into letting her play with the crown jewels again. She is so incredibly irresponsible! Someone truly needs to put that girl in her place. She never learns!" Oh, she would get in trouble, no doubt. But only after she returned from her Wednesday tea party in town—a long-standing tradition of hers. If she happened to return early and catch wind of this… well, I will have to chloroform her, tie her up, gag her, and shove her into a broom closet.

"Well, I had better get this right back to the vault," Pierre sighed, giving me one last reassuring nod before turning sharply on his heel. As soon as his back was turned, I tapped my dress pocket three times. It was Suzy's turn. The tiny mouse peeked out of my pocket, spotted Pierre's retreating boots, and immediately leapt silently to the floor. She scurried into the shadows, hugging the baseboards as she tailed him down the hall. Yes… everything was going exactly according to plan.

Fifi LaRousse herself couldn't have executed it better—well, except that Fifi probably would have seduced Pierre, shared a night of passionate romance, and then left him tied securely to the tallest spire on the palace roof. But Pierre was short, balding, and decidedly not my type. Still, I desperately hoped everything else would go right. Now, I just had to wait. Having absolutely nothing to do while a heist was in progress was incredibly stressful. The logic of the plan was simple: Suzy needed to follow Pierre.

Pierre would take the tiara directly to the Prince, because only the Prince, the King, and the Grand Duke held keys to the royal vaults. Pierre would hand over the tiara, the Prince would retrieve his key from its secret hiding spot, and Suzy would watch from the shadows to see exactly where that hiding spot was. That was the entire goal for this cycle. I had no intention of actually stealing the key and the treasure today. Why?

Because if the Prince went to put the fake tiara back in the vault right now, he might notice the real tiara sitting right there. Then he could realize the one in his hands was a forgery, and he and Pierre would get suspicious of me. No, the actual robbery would happen in the next cycle. Next time, I wouldn't bring a fake tiara at all. I would already know exactly where the key was hidden. I could just waltz in, "clean" the right room, pocket the key, and empty the vault.

I really felt I was acting too weird this cycle anyway. Once Suzy returned, we needed to bolt, get out of the palace, and do something fun with the rest of the cycle. I had definitely earned a break. And some sweets. No… a lot of sweets. Maybe I'd visit Bastien? I could tell him I "found" his lost pistol. No, that's silly; he'd know I stole it. Shoot! I couldn't steal his pistol and seduce him in the same cycle. I'll save it for another cycle.

Then maybe I could buy a pocket watch, smash it on the ground, cry about it, and let Bastien offer to repair it for me. Hmm, that wasn't a terrible idea… Oh, what is that rodent doing!? Shouldn't she have come back by now!? Oh, God, what if someone accidentally squished her? What if a palace cat ate her? Did they even have cats here? I didn't think so… The real danger was the heavy palace doors.

What if Pierre or the Prince went through one with a tight threshold sweep, leaving absolutely no gap for a mouse to slip under? I was practically vibrating with stress. I would have bitten my fingernails if it wasn't such a disgustingly low-class habit. I resorted to aggressively dusting the exact same stupid vase for half an hour, my eyes darting to the doorway every ten seconds. And then, I saw her. A tiny mouse peeked out from behind the door slit at the end of the hall.

Carefully, very carefully, she sneaked back along the baseboard toward me. And strangely enough, she was dragging something heavy and shiny in her tiny hands. And as she came closer, I saw that the shiny 'something' was a heavy, ornate, gilded key. This was not according to the plan. Not at all. Slowly, wicked grin spread across my face. Well, well. Maybe we were robbing the royal vault this cycle after all.