They landed in the Great Hall of the Dark Castle and Lacey stepped away from Rumple with a gasp.
"Did we just travel by magic?" she asked, her breath coming out in pants.
"Of course," Rumple said nonchalantly. "It would take days to get here by carriage and I can assure you it wouldn't be pleasant."
Lacey chuckled, turning to take in her surroundings.
"Nice place," she said. He had the feeling she was trying to appear cooler than she felt. He was certain she'd never seen such a grand place in all her life, or rather what she remembered of it, and he could tell she was eager to look around. At the same time, she was attempting to look thoroughly unimpressed.
"Yes it is," he agreed. "Tea?"
He motioned toward the long dining table where a tea set had appeared and Lacey turned to take it in.
"In the middle of the night?" she asked. "Is it even still night? All your windows are closed."
He'd let down the drapes after Belle had died. It seemed only fitting to cast himself back into darkness now that his light had been extinguished.
"It's the same time it was when we left Pigdon."
Lacey shook her head. "Fine," she agreed. "Not like I've got anything better to do."
Rumple poured them each a cup before leaning back against the table and watching the girl.
"Good tea," she said after a sip. "Might be helped along by something a little stronger though."
With a flick of his fingers, Rumple summoned a bottle of whiskey adding a splash to her tea.
"That's better," Lacey cooed, tossing back the hot tea as if it were a shot of liquor. She set the teacup back down on the tray and resumed her wandering of the hall. Rumple's heart stuttered to a stop when she stopped directly before the pedestal bearing a familiar teacup.
"What's this?" she asked, nodding to the chipped cup.
Rumple stood up, crossing the room to stand next to Lacey. Perhaps this was it, perhaps all Belle needed to return to him was a memory, something clear and meaningful that she could connect to. He had a myriad of precious objects in his castle and the cup was the first thing she'd gravitated to. That had to mean something.
"Pick it up," he urged.
Lacey gave him a dubious look before picking up the cup, cradling the delicate china between her palms. Her thumb swept over the chip in the rim and Rumple held his breath.
"It's just a teacup," she said at last.
The breath left Rumple's chest in a huff.
"That is one of my most treasured possessions," he said, pointing down at the cup.
"Why?" she asked with a shrug, turning the cup in her hands. "It's damaged."
"So it is."
"So why don't you get rid of it?" she asked, dangling the cup on one finger by its handle.
"You don't discard of things simply because they're a little chipped," he said, snapping the cup up from her precarious grip and setting it a safe distance away on the dining table.
Lacey snorted a laugh. "You're the type who never throws anything away aren't you?"
She cast an eye around at the glass front cabinets filled with precious artifacts, the pedestals covered in knick knacks and gave him a choice eyebrow.
"Don't you have anything sentimental in your possession?" he needled in reply. "Anything to remind you of your past, of another life?"
Lacey stiffened for a moment before turning toward the nearest pedestal, running her hands over The Golden Fleece itself.
"No," she said. "I didn't bring a bag with me here, did I? And what would I bring with me anyway? Pig shit?"
"You weren't always a tavern girl in a town full of pig shit," Rumple countered. "Where is that accent from?"
Lacey spun around, her eyes flashing for a moment before she schooled her expression.
"The same place I'm from," she said simply.
"And where exactly is that?" he persisted.
"My hometown," she replied coyly.
Rumple barely refrained from rolling his eyes. If she didn't want to tell him, he wouldn't push the subject. He would find out all of Lacey's secrets soon enough.
"So where's my room?" she asked. "If I'm to take care of this rather large estate of yours I'd better get a bed."
He led her upstairs and for a moment toyed with the idea of giving her Belle's room. Something felt wrong about that though, even if she was Belle. Perhaps being in her own room would jog her memory, but on the off chance that he was truly mistaken he'd have given away one tenuous line he still had connecting him to Belle's memory. He couldn't risk that.
So instead he skirted past Belle's room, a room he hadn't set foot in since the news of her death, and led Lacey into the bedroom next door.
A quick flourish of magic had the place clean before he even opened the door. There were fresh sheets on the four poster bed already turned down invitingly, a roaring fire in the fireplace, and a large copper tub before it already filled with hot water and rose petals.
"For the pig shit," Rumple quipped, nodding toward the tub.
Lacey bit her lip, barely containing the smile that threatened to break forth. She darted in to the room, making a beeline for the tub and trailing a hand through the steaming water.
"That smells amazing," she said leaning back and beginning to unlace the stays at the front of her bodice. She was down to just her linen shift and petticoat before Rumplestiltskin realized he should probably leave.
"Well are you going to stand there and watch or can I have some privacy?" she asked, that ever-present smirk lingering on her lips.
Rumple could feel his cheeks heating and he turned quickly back toward the doorway.
"Enjoy what's left of your evening," he called over his shoulder. "We'll go over your duties in the morning."
He almost thought he heard her laugh as he all but ran from the room.
Once he'd bid goodnight to Lacey, Rumple headed up to his workroom to plan. Glamours weren't permanent, though they sometimes required the caster to dissolve them. Even so, after a few days they would begin to fade naturally. He hadn't detected a glamour on the girl, but he'd know for sure within the week if her resemblance to Belle began to fade.
The next obvious choice was a memory potion of some kind. Memories could be triggered through the right stimulus. He'd already tried the chipped cup and it hadn't worked, but perhaps he could charm an item that had once belonged to Belle. He had a copy of "Her Handsome Hero" in the library he'd given her. He knew it was her very favorite book and reminded her of her mother. If that couldn't trigger something, nothing would.
Finally, there was always the risk that it was a curse. Any curse could be broken with true love. Unfortunately that was something Rumplestiltskin wasn't entirely sure he had with Belle anymore, let alone the veritable stranger, Lacey. And even if he was certain, he couldn't risk breaking his own curse, not now when he was so close to the fruition of all his plans.
He whipped up a quick detection spell to identify any magic about her and then set off to the library to find Belle's favorite book. After charming it to jog Belle's memories, he called it a night. If neither of his plans panned out, he could try more extensive tests. For those he would need hair and blood samples from Lacey however, and he wasn't quite sure how to go about getting those at the moment.
The next morning, Rumple went down to the Great Hall when the sun was just breaching the horizon. He summoned an extra chair to the dining table and placed the book to the side of Lacey's new chair. The firelight played across the gold embossing on the cover and he stared at it as he waited.
An hour or so later there was a scuffing out in the hall heralding Lacey's arrival before the doors to the Great Hall blew open to admit her.
"The doors open by themselves," she said, jutting her thumb over her shoulder. "This place is wild!"
Rumple waved a hand over the dining table and a full breakfast spread appeared: Eggs and bacon and sausages, scones and toast and jam. Lacey sat down at the table grabbing for the nearest serving dish and starting to fill her plate.
Rumple poured himself a cup of tea and sat back to watch her, waiting for her to notice the book at her elbow.
"Thanks for breakfast," Lacey said before tucking in. Rumple gave a noncommittal grunt. He watched as Lacey veritably shoveled food into her mouth and wondered when the last time she'd had a full meal was. If she was in desperate enough circumstances to think running away with the Dark One was a good idea, she must have been saving every bit of gold she could get her hands on in order to leave. Rumple cast his eyes down, feeling like he was intruding on something private. He'd certainly known the kind of hunger Lacey was displaying in his days.
When she'd halfway cleared her plate, Lacey finally looked up at Rumplestiltskin, a slight blush tinting her cheeks.
"Sorry," she said, wiping her mouth on her napkin. "Didn't you want to talk about what I'm actually supposed to do here? You mentioned something about earning gold."
"Yes," Rumple said with a nod. He set his teacup down, leaning forward on his elbows. In truth he hadn't given much thought to what Lacey could actually do for him. He knew he didn't want another maid. He'd made a promise to himself the day he set Belle free that if she ever came back to him, he'd never make her do another ounce of housework.
"I need a travel companion," he improvised. Someone to attend me on deals, make arrangements before I visit a kingdom, and be my eyes and ears in places I'm far too conspicuous for."
Lacey took another bite of egg, looking pensive.
"So you want me to travel with you and be your spy," she summarized.
Rumple shrugged. "If you'd like to call yourself my spy I certainly won't stop you."
There was a subtle poetry in it. He'd accused Belle of being Regina's spy. It was entirely possible the girl before him was exactly that, using his dead love's face to get close to him and weaken him. And yet he was entirely ready to share his secrets with her, take her on as his own accomplice.
"How do you know I'd be any good at that?" Lacey asked, raising an eyebrow. "I could be awful at being your eyes and ears."
Rumple snorted. "With the way you look, dearie?" he said, casting an appraising eye over her form. Even still clothed in her tavern dress she was a vision to behold. "I think you could probably get information out of a stone."
Lacey sat back in her seat, a wide smile on her face. "Oh, so you have noticed?" she exclaimed. "All that talk about not paying for it in the tavern last night I wondered if you were…functional."
Rumplestiltskin choked on his tea.
"I may not look like a man, but believe me, dear, I am one in that regard."
Lacey looked smug for a moment. "Good," she uttered, before turning back to her breakfast. "So where are we going first?"
"I don't have any trips planned for the next few days so feel free to get acquainted with the castle and I'll tell you when you're needed," he said. "In the meantime, there's a full library, well stocked with novels like that one."
He gestured to "Her Handsome Hero" and Lacey glanced down at it, as if noticing it for the first time.
"I'm not much of a reader," she said simply, far more interested in buttering her toast than the book Belle had toted around with her for half her life.
"Oh," Rumple said, masking the disappointment in his voice through years of practice. "Well if you change your mind, I've heard that one is quite good."
Lacey bit in to her toast, picking the book up with her other hand.
"Her Handsome Hero," she read off through a mouthful of bread. "Sounds kind of corny."
"I hear it's about compassion and sacrifice," Rumple said, the words surfacing from his memory clear as if Belle had just whispered them into his ear.
Lacey snorted, tossing the book back down on the table.
"As someone who has never been accused of being compassionate or self-sacrificing, I think I'll give it a pass."
Rumple cast his eyes down, not trusting himself to look at her for a moment. She sat there wearing the face of the woman he loved, but that was where the similarity ended it seemed. She was no more Belle than he was.
With the book failing to jog her memory, Rumple proceeded to the next step of his plan.
"Tea?" he offered.
Lacey glanced up from her breakfast and gave him a quick nod.
A little slight of hand allowed him to pour a bit of the detection spell into her cup along with the tea before he handed it over to her.
Lacey took a long sip, giving a contented little sigh before setting it down and returning to her sausages.
After ingesting the detection spell Rumple should have been able to see any magic at work in her, the smoky tendrils curling beneath her skin. But Lacey's skin remained pale and unblemished. There was no magic at all that he could see.
"What?" Lacey asked after a moment as he continued to stare at her critically. "Do I have something on my face?"
"No," he said, standing quickly.
There must be something darker at work here, something insidious that couldn't be detected through typical means. But who would have the power to do something like that? Regina certainly wasn't powerful enough. He had more work to do.
"Enjoy the rest of your day," he said before fleeing back up to his workroom.
