A row of seats adorns the hall where the drapes align with the reflecting glass windows. Archways of gold reemerge at each passing pillar. Bedding the floor, the pearl carpet of Baroda sits underneath the legacy of this country. Scratched and slanted, battle scars strike across the steel weaponry that actually showcases the pride of this place. Streaks of the light peak from the gaps the satin sheers leave; they dance within these halls in search of somewhere new. Midtones of dark red paint the scene as chairs sit in a queue waiting for when the time arrives. A billowy of essential oils diffuse by stretching beyond these venerable walls, while a thin coating of cinnamon and musk also still the air around. Mouths waters as the crowd associate the bells with the kitchen chefs placing endless dishes for after the ceremony.
But there in the background stands the uninvited guest. He lurks in the shadows of the mass, ingrained to his mission. The only scenes that follow are his eyes that stay locked on the velvet cap which rests at the end of the hall. It has four fleurs-de-lis and four crosses pattée, supporting two arches topped by a monde and cross patté. He must obtain the crown before it becomes too late. He must. With that mindset, tiptoeing slowly climbs out from his hideout. Wearing the code of true allegiance to the royal family he walks into the guests of today, making small talk with anyone when concerned. And when the time comes, he slips to the place he had to be all along. With one brisk movement, he picks up the crown, swiftly covering it underneath the bearskin.
He must complete this mission. He mustn’t fail; for he fears what the prince will do to him is unimaginable. This is the only chance he has for a better future. This young man was orphaned at a young age. Scraping for the basic necessities of life was the only way out for survival. When he did land a job it was as a chimney sweeper. Alas, that life did not provide him with anything, so when he turned of age he started working in the factory. With long, tiring days he came back home to a loaf of bread and bread. Occasionally if he could nook something for the nearby market he would always feed the ones worse than him and if left with some treat himself. This was until he met the duke who provided him with a second break to life. With no parents for guidance or love that he experienced, this was it for him. While at the factory, he met the prince who on that day had some work with the manager. So when the prince offered him a place as a royal guard he immediately agreed. In return, he was to steal the crown on the day of coronation and give it to the prince. No one would know.
As he enters the garden view the heavy breeze ripples through his tailored suit, sending loose leaves on a dancing funfair ride and in the trees it is a hustling chorus (a song so confidently sung). Anyone would get lost in the depths of absorbing the bright colours of the surroundings. At that time a flock of birds come into sight as he looks up and observes the stage created by their choreographed flapping as if to begin the ballet of the eventide.
But all beautiful things have their time limit. Before he has a chance to react he accidentally bumps into something – someone.
Slowly, lifting his head in dread he flickers his eyelids to see what blocks him from running. But by doing so he knocks away his hat which comes cascading down along with the crown falling out of it. Scared, he hastily picks it up and places it back into the hat before the woman in front of his finds out. “My apologies madam” he stutters out.
“It’s alright,” she replies.
The spy starts walking again, this time making sure he is careful. The wind starts to pick again, and before he can do anything his hat falls again. This time the crown rolls across the grass stopping right at the foot of the woman he passed.
The woman starts screaming for help, gripping on the spy’s hand to stop from him moving any further. All becomes too quick for the spy. There is no fleeing. People start piling outside trying to see what the issue is. Guards come racing to the scene knocking the spy down and there at the time, on the garden dew, the spy’s business remains unfinished.
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