If you were to ask him what day it was, he'd tell you the sun was out. Time was a mesh. It's as though three years have passed, and fate had yet to decide what will come of him.
"Don't exaggerate, Donald."
"Sorry, Mrs. B."
Still, it might as well have been that long.
He had hoped he could lounge at last, but it turned out that lying in a makeshift hammock with a shackled ankle was not only fruitless but also boring. So to take the time away, he started doing chores in secret. It started off small. He organized the pantry (and almost got locked in in the process), took a part in handling the laundry, and mended his clothes that started to tear apart. Honestly, it was going quite well. That was until Scrooge caught him humming while scrubbing the tile floor.
"…Uncle Scrooge, this is not what it looks like."
Too late. Scrooge figured since Donald proved himself useful around the mansion, he could be doing tasks in addition to the coin polishing. In came an entire list that Donald memorized by heart:
Clean the carpet; Wash the windows up and down; Dust the tapestries and the draperies; Sweep the halls and the stairs; Clean the fireplaces; Water the plants; Feed the bird.
It became routine.
Wash the windows; Sweep the floors; Feed the plants; Water the bird.
Then there was the check-up. It should've gone quickly since one: it's obvious with Donald opening the door that he didn't break out. And two: the ball and chain was still intact. But the officer in charge had to include some small talk. "How are we doing today?" he asked, examining the shackle.
With his speech impediment, Donald went with whatever came out of his mouth. "Pretty swell. I raised a sinking ship with ping pong balls, broke the Holy Grail, and discovered the remains of Atlantis."
"Yeah. 'Wak. Wak. Wak.' That's what I'm getting outta you."
"'Thought so."
Today, while Donald gathered the dirty dishes, he noticed Scrooge standing by the front door, his mood immensely bright. Launchpad arrived earlier and joined him, finding entertainment with the little cage. Webby wouldn't stop squealing as she hauled her scrapbooks to the living room, where Gladstone started writing tiny parchment cards. Mrs. Beakley put away the most fragile ceramics into a separate room and locked it.
It hit him. How could he forget?!
Setting the tower of porcelain plates on the corner of the table, Donald hurriedly dragged himself to the living room, passing by the set of stairs where the Don-shaped hole on the floor was fixed.
"Hey, Webby!" he called. "Think you could beat me to the kitchen?"
"Say no more!" she dropped the books and dashed past him. Once he reached her there, she had already laid out the ingredients needed on the counter.
Together, they measured the dry ingredients. Flour, sugar, baking powder, and salt. Next, the wet ingredients. Eggs, milk, butter, and vanilla. Combining the two, they mixed the batter into dough and swirled them into a dozen little O's on a pan. They placed the pan into the cast iron stove and waited until the donuts reached a soft and fluffy golden brown. Finally, they divided the fresh dozen into four little pouches.
Through the window, Donald and Webby saw a horse-drawn landau pull up by the fence. Webby seized the pouches and ran out of the kitchen. Donald wiped the remaining dough off his hands and made way for the open front door.
Emerging from the landau were Huey, Dewey, and Louie, Donald's triplet nephews. They were around Webby's age, each wearing an identical waistcoat with a distinctive color. Red for Huey, blue for Dewey, and green for Louie. Watching from inside the mansion, Donald leaned against the doorframe, smiling. Scrooge hugged the boys while Webby handed them the pouches of donuts, the fourth one for herself. Launchpad assisted Mrs. Beakley in bringing down the boys' bags. There was someone still seated inside the landau, waving at everyone. Could that be her? If he could lean in a little closer…
BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP
The bird once again shook the cage with its loud chirps until he was fully inside. This caught the attention of the triplets.
"Uncle Donald!" they ran towards him and tackled him with such force, the four landed on the floor.
"Hey, boys." Donald laughed exhaustedly, catching his breath. He ruffled their heads.
"Uncle Donald, you won't believe-"
"Dewey tried to do something, and I had to-"
"Mom was disappointed and proud-"
"Alright lads, give yer uncle some space. We got a lil' adventure ahead of us!" Scrooge declared, pointing his cane in the air. Getting the boys back up, Donald looked outside again. The landau was gone.
"We are we heading to, Uncle Scrooge?" asked Dewey, fist pumping the air.
Scrooge and the others reentered the mansion. "We're taking a trip to the harbor! We'll have to stop by Von Drake's on the way. Launchpad will take us there. Beakley, I'm gonna need yer assistance, so you're coming along too."
Beakley put down the bags. "Sir, is it a good idea to leave him alone?"
"He won't be alone, Gladstone isn't comin'."
"Oh, I'll be out later," announced Gladstone, his voice echoing from the living room. "Fate had decided something for me or else I would stick around."
Scrooge raised an eyebrow. "Right… well, lads. I'm guessin' you know the gist?"
"Yeah, we got the notice before we left." said Huey, staring at the iron ball.
"We could wait until another time." Suggested Webby. Dewey sunk his arms while Louie shrugged.
Donald shook his head, kneeling beside the children. "Look, I'll be fine. You kids didn't come all the way over here to hang around inside the whole time. Just make sure you eat your snacks and come back in one piece." Webby and the triplets nodded in unison, holding on to their pouches.
"In that case, come lads, grab yer bags! Leave them in yer room before we take off." Scrooge lead the kids up the stairs. He looked at Donald. "We'll be back before dinner! Don't forget about that list!"
"I have that under control!" yelled Donald confidentially, slamming the front door. They all heard the sound of broken porcelain coming from the dining room. "I'll get that…"
Drake may had known about her escape routes and thwarted them for years, but this one never ceased to work like a charm.
Checking her schedule, Daisy noticed a free period between the deadline of her festival review and teatime with the aristocrats. If all goes to plan, she'll return before anyone notices she was even gone.
First, the Captain had to lower his suspicions. Every time he knocked on her door, she made sure to respond and show him how busy she was with her piece. This 'dramatic' entrance happened about every 30 minutes until he left for training.
Second, the wardrobe. In her luggage, a cloak, a headscarf, and a commoner dress awaited. She loved collecting various outfits. After she sent her review to Goofy, she pulled them out. A quick change and an updo later, and suddenly, the Queen was no more. An unassuming peasant woman had taken her place.
Third, she peeked through the keyhole. No one present. Daisy grabbed the bedsheets from her closet and tossed them into a basket that Minnie dropped off. She slipped out of the corridors and joined a group of servants as they exited though the entrance hall and out the side doors where supplies are handled.
Fourth, the transportation. Daisy left the basket alongside stacks of clothing and walked to the busy streets. A giant clock tower at the center chimed. So far, so good. She called out for a hackney and hopped inside once one pulled up.
"Where to, Miss?"
"Marketplace, South Division," said Daisy quickly. She couldn't contain herself. This was exciting. There she was out in the open and nobody was batting an eye. She gazed at the moving green fields that surrounded her kingdom. There was even a forest patch beyond the upper-class manors.
On the way, they passed other divisions of the Marketplace. The North was the fashion district; The West was the improvement center for homes and businesses; The East had pharmacies and self-care remedies. How she wished she could tell the coachman to stop at every store that caught her eye.
Finally, the hackney came to a halt. "Here we are! South Division: From meats to agriculture! Watch out for the construction nearby."
"Thank you." Daisy handed coins to the coachman. She stepped off the hackney and looked around. Villagers walked in and out of a series of small buildings, minding their business. Drake said the place collapsed. Then again. "'Construction nearby.'" she mumbled to herself.
In between two shops, a wooden barricade blocked a passage down the alley, a sign reading "DO NOT ENTER. PARDON THE DUST." Margaret would have stayed away, but Daisy wasn't one for rules. Glancing side-by-side, she placed the hood of her cloak over her head and quickly climbed over the barricade. Piles of wood scattered the ground and tiny particles blew in the air. She stayed close to the wall until she reached the back. Covering her mouth, she poked her head out and found a wide space. Construction workers were hammering stands together while others swept the remaining debris. They all looked exhausted.
"Hold it right there!" Daisy's head turned to a deep-voiced guardsman pointing at her. He wore a silver dragoon helmet that shielded his eyes. Though her heartbeat started racing, she walked towards the guardsman anyway.
"Can you tell me what's going on?"
"I can say that you are intruding! You must leave or else I will alert the others!"
Ideally, this step of the plan would be optional, but this moment left her no choice. Ignoring the guard's protest, Daisy leaned towards him and whispered sharply, "Shh! If you don't tell anyone I'm here, I won't tell them you're denying the Queen's orders." She pulled a golden ring from her skirt. This ring held an intricate symbol of a flame. The royal crest.
Upon seeing the ring, the guardsman examined her face more closely, and his attitude changed completely. His posture dropped. Rather than the deep voice she heard earlier, a higher one broke out, "Blathering-! Your Highness! It's an honor!" He removed his helmet, revealing a young duck with wavy light brown feathers. "Fenton Crackshell-Cabrera at your service!" He shook her hand but let go immediately and lowered his voice. "Oh, I should've asked first- My apologies. What are you doing here? This is a work zone."
Daisy was stunned and had to blink before returning to her objective. "I keep hearing about an incident here that occurred not too long ago. I came to uncover a clear story as well as any updates for report."
Fenton gleamed. "Oh! I was here on patrol that day, actually! Captain Mallard said I was the only one perfect for this place while he and the others were at the ceremony. Now that I think about it, that may have been implying something. Anyway, I heard a commotion. There was this guy yelling about being ripped off. Suddenly, he threw an onion in a rage and it broke the stand and things escalated from there. I had no horse, so I had to run all the way to the palace for help. It seems illogical, but that's how it happened." He opened his arms for full effect.
"Sounds like a real brute…" Daisy scowled. To think that some man caused this trouble because he didn't get what he wanted.
"I don't know. Maybe he was telling the truth. There's talk of a continuing investigation once all this finishes, but he's serving his sentence as of now. At least the people were safe. That's what's most important. I can't imagine what would've happened if the others didn't show up."
"It is the most important thing," nodded Daisy. "I think if it weren't for you, the Captain wouldn't have come in time. You're quite the hero, Fenton."
Fenton's eyes swelled, almost bursting into tears. "That sounds amazing coming from you."
"HEY, WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING? THIS PLACE IS OFF LIMITS!" Yelled another guard, and this time, the workers and other sentinel were staring one by one.
Daisy can't blow her cover more than once. She thought fast. "Excuse me! I was...um… looking for directions! Yes! For the nearest… pond! I came to ask this nice guard which way! He did nothing wrong. He was about to tell me where it is. Isn't that right, Sir?"
She gestured to Fenton, who just realized he had to play along. "Oh-. " He put the helmet back on and deepened his voice again. "Of course, dear citizen! The pond is…" He glanced around nervously and pointed to the first thing that caught his attention. "Beyond that hill!"
"Thank you so much, Sir! I'll be out of you guys' hair now." She hurried out of the work zone and into that direction without a second thought.
"Crackshell, isn't the pond to the right?"
In the past, he wasn't enthusiastic to wherever his uncle would drag him to, but it meant getting to spend time with his nephews, so he came along regardless. And of all the places they went without him…
Gladstone was who knows where. Lately, he's been going out way more often than usual. "Probably to rub it in that he can," Donald supposed as he pulled a bucket of soap and water to one of the windows on the second floor. Sliding it open, he tried to wipe the soaked rag onto the outside of the glass, his view of the fields blocked by the bars. He peered at the distant castle.
A part of him wanted to blame the Queen. What kind of celebrity needs an entire ceremony just because she came back from some trip? Without it, there could've been plenty of witnesses who'd see through Pete's act. They would've backed up Donald's story in no time…right? He thought back to the trial.
"Like anyone knows a word you say!"
Donald rubbed his throat and proceeded to wipe the bars next. As if in defiance to that comment, he decided to sing. He guessed that was a perk of being alone in the mansion. No one to cover their ears or to force him into more chores.
His raspy voice faltered when he spotted a hooded figure walking to the fence, looking back behind them. The figure then pulled their hood. A woman. Donald couldn't see her clearly, but she was staring at the mansion, examining the structure.
Before he could slip away, he bonked his head against the window.
Ok, the coast was clear. Nobody was following her. Hopefully, that guardsman didn't get in trouble.
Daisy was out of breath. She couldn't tell how far she walked up this hill. She ought to get back home. She got as much information as she could back there.
There are things I wish you knew
Singing? Yeah, it was singing, alright. A tenor, from what she could hear. It was coming from higher up.
For even if my heart is strange/ And hard to understand/ I'll give all that I have for you/ I'll help you take a stand
It sounded so lovely. Who was that? Daisy continued up the hill until she reached the top. That was when the singing stopped. A traveler long gone, perhaps?
Her curiosity could've taken her further, but it switched its attention to the mansion sitting there. Daisy looked behind her. This mansion had a great view of the castle. No one seemed to be home the closer she approached the fence, pulling off her hood for a better view.
It was a long three-story high building with an even larger stone tower attached. She quite liked the faded golden shade and its garden that bloomed with shrubbery. Otherwise, she would've thought the place was abandoned.
"Ow!"
Daisy looked up and locked eyes with someone staring out from the second floor. She couldn't tell what this person looked like from down here. The bars didn't help.
How long have they been there?
Aaand now she's staring at him. Well, this was new. Travelers would take a look at the mansion and move on. Donald was freaked out, yet he didn't move. Neither did she.
Should he say something? But isn't that against the bajillion rules set on him? They continued staring blankly at each other. It soon became a game of who does what first.
Finally, he stuck his hand out and waved. He wasn't sure if he had expected her to wave back but it made him chuckle when she did. She smiled back nervously if that was what he was seeing.
"Sorry, I thought no one was home." She spoke.
"That's ok. It's only me for now. I don't blame you, though. You can get lost in here."
"I can get behind that. … Were you the one singing earlier?" When he fumbled an answer, she responded, "I thought it was nice! You have a sweet voice."
"Oh, um..thanks." She must have been joking, but he had to look away to hide the warmth reaching his cheeks. As if she could even see him. "Do you need help with something?"
"No, I…" Started the woman, then he looked behind her once again. "I have to get going." In a panic it seemed, she ran back down the hill.
Donald watched, utterly confused. "Uh…Later?"
(Author's Note: When most of your research consists of mansion pictures, types of carriages, and recipes for quick bake donuts (Thank you, Youtube). Maybe it's just me, but I noticed in two stories how Donald's go-to snack for the nephews are donuts. I thought it would be a cute feature to add. Fun fact: That scene at the end wasn't actually something I had intended to put into the story. It started off as a random headcanon I had. But my goodness, that song. And here we are! Ah, those two. If only they knew...
My mini-Spring Break is over (long story), so I doubt I will able to update the following week. Even right now, it shocks me how long this chapter took. Hope you all enjoy!)