Silence pressed down on Esmeralda's ears, which came as both a relief and source of unease. She glanced down at the crack of darkness behind the great stone wall within the fireplace hearth. Frollo said that she would be without any fire from it tonight…Might be worth a shot, she mischievously considered, biting her lip.
Esmeralda paused. What if Frollo or a staff member showed up? Who knows what would befall her if she was discovered? Not yet, she told herself. She would have to wait until later when she was sure that the Palace was asleep. Knowing she would be left alone for the rest of the night, she quickly changed out of the stiff dress and back into the more comfortable nightgown. She sat on the bed and resigned herself to wait.
Another hour or two must have passed because Esmeralda found she had dozed off, waking to a grave silence and the blackness of night surrounding her. She went over to the small table and collected the unlit candles and flint into her arms. Remembering the draft, she pulled the linen sheet from her bed and folded it around her to keep warm. Instinctively she glanced at the chamber door, expecting someone to burst through any second and drag her to the dungeon.
Shaking off the paranoia, she locked her gaze on the fireplace whose biting draft seemed to be beckoning her. She hunched into the stone maw and pressed harder on the wall within, amazed when it swung open further. Esmeralda stopped and lit a candle, whose light revealed a descending stone staircase littered with light cobwebs above. Gathering her materials, she noticed a few pieces of black, charred wood. Might as well use these to keep track, she thought, collecting them as well. With a deep exhale, she stepped into the hidden stairwell.
Within, Esmeralda shivered as the air was considerably colder. Her candle held out before offered little illumination on the surrounding bricks. The descent wasn't long, perhaps down to the next story, before turning down a long corridor. Esmeralda marked the landing with black "X" by the burnt piece of wood in hand. She continued down, unnerved by the lack of any door, window, or compartment of any kind.
She came upon a small, flat piece of metal sitting in the middle of the wall. Examining it closer, she found it seemed to be held back by a simple hook bolted aside. Undoing it, Esmeralda pulled the metal latch, the aged iron emitting a small squeak. Behind this latch was what looked like a small hole. Holding the candle aside, Esmeralda raised an eye to the hole and allowed her vision to adjust to the darkness within.
Unfortunately, there was nothing to behold, as it could only be assumed that it was simply an empty, unlit chamber. Esmeralda pouted at the disappointment, turning to continue down the corridor after locking it back in place. However, a new idea suddenly dawned on her: if there was one peephole within these passageways, who was to say that there weren't any more? The idea tantalized her, gripping the flickering candle in her hand and continuing her route.
Passing through, she noticed the outline of another hidden door: about the same height as the one she had come through, and only held back by an iron bar. Esmeralda deduced that the door she passed through likely had a similar feature. Wonder if you crank it back…will it unlock it on the other side? She calculated, noticing the bar was about the same length as the iron handle inside her fireplace.
Esmeralda shivered a little at the chill pervading the corridor. Still, she ignored it and kept her eyes peeled for any more hidden peepholes and doors, which indeed showed up sporadically. Taking another turn, she found herself at a split in the corridors. She hissed as a bead of hot wax dripped onto her hand, noticing that her candle was dwindling down to a stub. After using it to ignite a new one, Esmeralda momentarily debated on which direction to take. With another "X", she settled on the path to the right and made her way down.
After some time she came upon another split: one turn going down another corridor, another directing to a winding staircase. Briefly considering it, Esmeralda decided that maybe the stairs down might lead her to something—perhaps means of escape. She kept walking down, probably past another floor before a faint smoky smell filled her nostrils. She stopped on the next floor from where the scent was coming and raised the candle out, trudging forward. A few steps later she came upon a short wooden door with a matching iron latch keeping it shut.
Esmeralda unlocked the hidden door, pulling it towards her and finding a series of moldy wooden planks standing upright, blocking it off. Studying closely, she noticed how rotted away these planks were: she gave one a small press with the heel of her hand, feeling the wood bend and ready to break. Setting aside her candle and letting the wax hold it in place, she took hold a plank on one end, pushing and pulling to loosen it and hearing it splinter away. With enough effort, the plank was pried off, leaving a musty cloud of ancient dust to fill her eyes and nose.
"You hear something?" The muffled voice of what sounded like a man broke through to the gypsy girl.
She held her breath and gingerly placed the old broken plank aside as quietly as possible, all the while straining to hear the nearby voice.
"No, I didn't," another man's voice answered with nonchalance.
"I swear I heard something—something shuffling around in that closet," the first retorted. "You remembered to lock it, right?"
"What—like some ghost is going to rifle through it tonight, looking for grain or barley? It's fine."
"I know I heard—"
"There you go, making yourself paranoid again," the second bit with reproach. "Look, it's probably just another goddamn mouse. I'm leaving before it shows itself, so I've got no obligation to chase it. You see it, you kill it, but I'm going to bed."
Esmeralda kept still as she waited for one of them to start peeling away the boards and find her hiding spot. Uncomfortable, she stood from her crouching position and clenched her jaw as she listened.
"No, you're…you're probably right. I think it's my mind playing tricks on me again. Maybe…maybe I need to get some sleep too," the jittery voice of the first one remarked.
His compatriot tersely replied, "I told you mead this late does ya' no good. Let's pack it in for the night."
"Good idea."
Esmeralda waited anxiously, watching as the wick of her candle seemed to be burning faster than ever and threatening to plunge her into darkness. She waited and waited in case another nearby voice might reveal itself, but she only found a deafening silence pervading her small space.
Now sure that she was truly alone, she began to pry the next plank of this barrier away. She took care to break it away from nails as carefully as possible, grateful that age had rendered the wood so weak and pliant. Board by board she ripped from their nails until she tore enough off to comfortably slip through. Candle out in front of her, she took note that a few stacks of crates covered with tarp had created a wall to hide the entrance away. Esmeralda braced herself and pressed her shoulder against a stack and pushed. With some effort, she was able to move it slowly but surely, inching it away more. With enough willpower, she was able to make enough room to barely squeeze through. She navigated over numerous sacks of flour and grains, and past more crates filled with items that were difficult to make out under the darkness.
After tiptoeing a few more feet, she stood before another wooden door. She quickly prayed that she heard correctly in that the door would be unlocked. Taking a deep breath, Esmeralda cautiously gave the door a small push.
It opened—not even so much as a squeak—and she found herself in the Palace of Justice's kitchen. She quickly eyed the hearth where a couple of logs lay, blackened with small flames still breathing. Esmeralda stood still and examined her surroundings, watching and listening for movement.
The young woman scanned over the countertops, green eyes falling on a paring knife left out. It wasn't exactly a dagger, but a small knife for peeling carrots was better than none at all. Tucking away the miniscule weapon, Esmeralda continued her slinking around and approached the kitchen exit, first raising an ear to listen for any activity on the other side.
Hearing none, Esmeralda carefully pushed through and found herself in a hallway. She heard shuffling on one side, like someone walking away. With terrible curiosity, she kept low and followed the sound until she found herself at the mouth of the Palace's foyer. She took care to keep out of the circle of light given off by the foyer's sconces. She quickly discovered that the sound she heard was a nearby guard, ambling about and looking positively bored here at his station. Can't risk it, she mentally reminded herself, choosing to turn around back towards the kitchen.
Once inside, she focused on the back door she hadn't previously noticed. Grabbing the rusty handle, she gave it a push only to find that it was locked, of course. Of course it's locked, dammit, she mentally cursed before turning the paring knife over in her hand and glancing back up at the door's keyhole. Esmeralda pursed her lips as she considered it: she couldn't even remember the last time she picked a lock and she doubted that this little knife could do the job. It was still sharp enough, no doubt, but strong enough to open it?
"It's all about a skillful hand—gentle and careful," Clopin had instructed her, his tone hushed he offered notes of what to listen and feel for with the blade. He jimmied the keyhole of an abandoned townhouse open, a young Esmeralda watching with fascination. With a cocky grin, he gave the door a nudge with his foot and opened it, remarking, "Nothing to it."
Esmeralda protectively glanced over her shoulder again before inserting the knife's blade into the keyhole. Slowly and patiently, she began to twist the blade and cursed when it nicked a finger. Her ears were tuned for any approaching footsteps and pins grinding within the lock. She prayed that her inexperience would not break the blade, leaving it stuck for the staff to find and deduce that she escaped her confines. The last thing she needed was Frollo finding out that she was not above stealing knives for her imaginary nefarious schemes.
A couple minutes later, click. Esmeralda's eyes went wide with bewilderment. Tucking the knife back, she pushed the door again and was shocked that it opened. Positively beaming, she continued through and found herself in a storeroom. Uninterested with walls lined with barrels, crates, and canvas sacks, she stepped toward the door on the far end of the room, hoping to find better luck through there.
Emboldened by her previous success, Esmeralda approached the next door with her paring knife at the ready. As soon as she found the next door was locked, she began her work again, ever patient and careful. Opening it, Esmeralda now slipped out to find herself in the courtyard. With a few torches lining the space and the moon above barely a sliver, her eyes registered the high wooden gates and the fence dividing it from the nearby stables. She quickly blew out the candle in hand and ducked behind a nearby haybale when she heard the sound of clanking chainmail armor approaching. The guard approached another coming from the direction of the stables, exchanging some inaudible words before continuing their rounds.
Emerging from her hiding place, Esmeralda kept close to the Palace wall, suddenly grateful for the blinding darkness that concealed her as she rounded her way through. However, her relief was short-lived as she found herself up against a wall—literally. She gazed up and was able to make out a stone wall, maybe fifteen or twenty-feet high, and encasing the entire courtyard. She couldn't risk trying going around to the opposite end—without the guards she had just seen, she would still have to go past the stables, risking spooking the horses and drawing their attention.
She would have to go back. Esmeralda shook her head at the idea but knew that any more exploring out here would simply be too risky. Besides, she knew she had to return through the hidden kitchen entrance and cover her tracks. Before doing so, she noticed a lone lantern nearby, deciding that it would be useful in her excavation of the hidden corridors.
Back inside, Esmeralda relit the snuffed candle from the fireplace's dying embers and skulked around the kitchen. Sifting through some nearby crates, she found nothing more than vegetables and foodstuffs. Esmeralda was relieved when she finally came upon one filled with tallow candles and took a handful of them. Before reentering the grain closet, she made sure to fit the lantern with one, ready to face the netherworld-like darkness.
She rearranged some crates to conceal the entrance before crouching back under those few planks still boarding it up. Haphazardly, she arranged the broken ones back upright to cover up the hidden door, knowing it was a longshot that nobody would notice. Though the back of this grain closet looked all but abandoned by the staff. Shutting herself in, she closed the small door and headed back for the winding staircase.
Ambling through the pitch-black corridors, Esmeralda was grateful that she came upon the lantern as navigating was undoubtedly easier. She wondered about that hidden peepholes and doors: since Frollo had decided to keep her cooped back up her room, the isolation would prove beneficial, and allow her the privacy to explore without any outside meddling. She found her way back with the help of those black "X's". She came back upon the original fork in the road of hallways and marked the right path with a circle—an old code Clopin had taught her: a circle meaning safety, a rhombus for danger. Briefly she was cursed her illiteracy, but perhaps this shape code would prove smarter, just in case anyone else might be prowling these hidden passageways. There were bound to be more, and something in her gut warned her that this left-hand path held something either very interesting, or very dangerous.
Suddenly Esmeralda considered the time: who knew what hour it was now? And what if Frollo decided to check in with her before he set off on his daily duties—he would expect her to be there as usual. Again she considered that daylight might help if she wanted to start looking through those peepholes. She would have to wait until Frollo lifted this punishment of his, then she would be free to roam and explore the other Palace rooms at her leisure. Until then, she would have to keep mapping these passages.
The list of things to consider suddenly made Esmeralda realize just how exhausted she was, rubbing her eyes as they grew heavier focusing on the darkness blanketing her.
It seemed like forever before she found her way back to the still open door of her chamber's fireplace. She glanced back up, raising her lantern to find that the doorway indeed held an iron handle bolted in, lifted upright. Esmeralda decided to test it. Worst case scenario, she internally considered, ready to seal herself in. Locked out and having to take the long way back, through the kitchen. Though she recoiled at the idea of having to sneak back upstairs and find her room again—and pick the lock on that one too, if you don't get caught first by some night guard.
She pushed the stone door shut, bringing the iron handle down after. Though Esmeralda was not one for prayer, she hoped desperately that her theory was right. She pressed on the door to make sure it was sealed before turning the crank up again and heard that wonderful scraping sound again, seeing the door crack open in front of her. Esmeralda counted her blessings, taking up her collection of supplies and crouching out from the hearth.
Esmeralda now stood in the center of her chamber in awe of herself. Here she stood, having just scratched the surface of these hidden passageways, cradling a number of supplies that would come in handy, and had made it back without anyone the wiser, by the look of it. Setting the lantern down, she wondered again where she might hide these. Secretly, she was still hopeful that the gypsy amulet would remain undetected.
Of course, she realized with a delighted grin, turning back to crouch into the fireplace once again. Within, she made a little pile of her newfound essentials, including the linen sheet she had thrown around herself earlier, after the lantern had shown the amount of dust and grime that clung to the white fabric. After all, such a thing could raise suspicion if the staff decided to collect it for laundering. Even the lantern in hand could not be hidden out in her room; it would have to remain stowed away behind the fireplace as well, and she would just have to fumble around for a moment in darkness. But if it meant covering her tracks, then so be it.
She locked up the secret entrance and waited for her eyes to adjust to the darkness. Blindly, Esmeralda dusted herself down as she figured she probably had a good amount of soot and dirt smudging her. But now, she was simply too tired to think anymore. As she crawled into the large tester bed, she hoped that she'd be up before the staff came for the usual wakeup call. Couldn't be too careful anyway.
X
Morning had crept up on the gypsy by means of sunlight shining a brilliant stream over her face through a crack in the curtains. Blinking awake, Esmeralda groggily took note of her chambers: so far, it didn't seem like any servant had been by to tidy up or bring breakfast. Her sleepy green eyes quickly darted over the fireplace, as though she could see through the wall wherein her secret stash lay hidden. She threw the covers off and flung herself out of bed, examining the damage from last night.
In the morning light, there was no mistaking the amount of soot smudging the off-white nightgown, which she hastily began dusting away again. To try and rinse it out with the minimal amount of water left the jug at the basin would be fruitless. She would have to spin this somehow to throw her captor off the scent.
Without warning, the clunk of a key in the door stirred her from her concentration. Esmeralda took a final glance around the room for anything suspicious before busying herself at the wash basin next to her bed. Much to her disdain, it was not a servant but the Minister himself, gracing her with his presence. His hard face was etched with barely a mocking smile, his leering eyes narrowed at her. "Did you sleep well without any warmth?" he greeted as he sauntered in.
Drying her face, she sharply answered, "Like a log. Growing up, we had to learn to sleep in the freezing cold. Not sure if you know this, but it gets colder than all hell in the Court."
Frollo pressed his dark lips in a line. "I don't doubt it. Now, care to explain the amount of filth?" His hand waved up and down at her figure, curling his lip at the dirt.
"Oh." She balked before remembering the fib she could appease him with. "I tried scouring around for something to light a fire—came up empty as you can guess."
"You look as though you climbed up the chimney itself—look at you."
The gypsy girl paced away from him. Esmeralda shrugged and clipped, "Like a little dirt ever killed anyone."
"It's unbecoming. I'll have the staff bring you something clean; I can't have you parading around my home looking like some gravedigger. How is it that you managed to make such a mess of yourself in one night? You're certainly not quelling my assumptions that you people are a bunch of dirty vagrants."
Esmeralda scoffed and rolled her eyes at the snark. "For all the griping about your workload, you really make time to come in pick a fight, don't you?"
"Well, I want you to feel as welcome as possible in my home." The judge flashed another patronizing smile.
"Don't you have a list of people to go torture, or maybe you missed a few houses that need torching?"
Frollo inched closer to her, stiffly folding his hands together. "Nothing that exciting," he swiped, his deep voice smooth. "No, I have a full day of entertaining and flattering some member of the King's council."
Resting on the bench under one of the windows, Esmeralda crossed her legs and remarked, "Hmm, sounds like it should be just barrels of fun."
The judge kept his gray eyes averted to the stone floor. "I'd rather endure a day of bloodletting than accompany that pompous man and his inflated ego."
"So you're cut from the same cloth?" she taunted. "You might just end up with a new friend."
Frollo's teeth grit, wanting to strike the girl. But there was something—What?—enjoyable about exchanging these cutting words with her. He noticed that he found that her little swipes made her considerably more buoyant, even offering a smirk at his expense. "Yes, some of the greatest bonds in history began with logistics. This man is more inclined to pomp and circumstance than I care to indulge."
"And you made it sound like it put a damper on your mood," she teased. Esmeralda remembered that she still indeed wanted to keep exploring the Palace's secrets. And to do that, she would need to make sure that she would be undisturbed. But she had to be clever about it—make him think he had the upper hand. "Does that mean you're feeling generous enough to let me out of this room again?"
Frollo's smile quickly twisted back into a familiar frown. "I don't take insubordination lightly; you will remain here for the rest of the day, as I told you last night. Understood?"
Esmeralda forced her red lips into a pout. Laying the sarcasm on thick, she replied, "And here I thought we were making headway as reluctant roommates. Well, I guess I can just say my hellos when your staff comes through to tidy up, but I doubt you'll let Lucile back here."
"You are correct: her fraternization with you makes for a lax sense of duty. You will be brought your regular breakfast, but I've ordered my staff to leave you undisturbed until I say otherwise. I think in due time you'll grow fond of such isolation."
The young woman knew she had to drive home his perceived victory. "You think a couple of walls and some alone time will break me?" she tested, enjoying the look of annoyance on his sharp features. "I had to walk through tunnels of decayed bodies as a regular way home."
"And by the time I'm finished with you, you'll wish you were still ankle-deep in human carrion."
"Every second looking at you makes me miss it even more."
Nostrils flared, Frollo inched closer and hovered over her. "I've wasted enough time here already; I have business to attend to, and you have a long day of solitude." He turned back towards the door before he could lash out.
As he haughtily slunk out, Esmeralda was quick to remark, "Remember to smile—you'll catch more flies with honey than vinegar!" With that comment, the Minister slammed her door with a resounding boom.
Too easy, she thought to herself victoriously as she shifted her eyes back towards the fireplace.
X
*A/N: Thanks for reading-R/R!