Edward
Right inside the fireplace. That's the worst place to scrub. That's where the soot is practically baked into the stone and it makes it a nightmare to clean. The Havershims are nice though. They give me lemonade around midday. When you've been inhaling soot all day, lemonade tastes like ambrosia.
"Make sure you get that ugly spot by the gray stone," says Mrs. Havershim. "It's a stubborn one."
No kidding.
"I'll do what I can, Madame," I say as the doorbell rings.
"Good afternoon, sir," says a stranger's voice. The Havershims are really loud, friendly people. There's always someone visiting them at any hour of the day. "I am Officer..." and his words are muffled by the sound of my scrubbing. "I am conducting an…of the Crown…me to this town."
"And how may I be of help, officer?" asks Mr. Havershim as I scrub furiously at the spot. It's stuck. Like hair on soap. I couldn't get it off with a crowbar.
"Have you ever seen this before?" asks the officer's voice. Silence. I scrub harder.
"No, Officer, I can't say that I have."
"And your wife? Daughters? Could they have seen it before?"
"No, no. Something like this would be well beyond my means."
"I see. Thank you for your time. Have a good afternoon, sir."
"And to you, officer," and the door is closed.
"What was that about, dear?" asks Mrs. Havershim, turning her head away from me.
"The Crown," says Mr. Havershim. "Apparently they're investigating some sort of burglary at the palace."
"Who on earth would steal from the palace?" asks Mrs. Havershim. "What did the burglar take?"
"A shoe, apparently," says Mr. Havershim. "That belongs to the future queen."
"I had no idea the prince was engaged!" exclaims Mrs. Havershim. "Oh, I wish you'd called me over! I would have liked to get a look at a princess' shoe! Tell me, my dear—what did it look like?"
"It was a splendid thing," Mr. Havershim says. "All covered in sparkle—rhinestone, is it? Well, it was silver in color, maybe four or five inches at the heel, and it glittered in every light. Truly a marvel."
I pause. Now what do I know that fits that description?
As I seem to recall, Miss Ambriella entrusted me with something like that not four days ago. I wonder if she knows the King is looking for it? But it belongs to her, surely. I know her. She's many things, but she's no thief. So that would make her the prince's betrothed, then? Well, to be honest it hardly surprises me. She looks like the sort of girl who grows up and marries a prince. But why would she give it to me, then? My brain doesn't take very long to think of Madame Allendale. But surely Miss Ambriella couldn't possibly think that Madame Allendale is more powerful than the Crown?
Well, who knows what she's thinking? The only thing to do now is ask her.
So it's settled, then. As soon as I've finished off work for the day, I'll go see her at Royce Manor.