And I have been needing to do the thing where you just write, because you can’t write the good until you write all the crap.
Day 1. “The pampered princeling who considers himself a Robin Hood.”
It was surprisingly hard to take gold from the Treasury, considering it was mine to begin with. I suppose the guards thought it solely my father’s, but as I’m the heir, bear his name, live here, and can spend it as I please, one would assume I’m allowed to take it freely, no?
No.
Five weeks – for five weeks I had tried to get the guard to let me pass.
No.
All in all, it took a good deal of persuasion with one of the cooks to use a good deal of persuasion with one of the scullery maids to use a good deal of persuasion with one of the guards to wander off from his post for a bit of cherry cream pie (not my favorite, but good enough I suppose) and then finally I was able to walk into the treasury, and back out, with more than a few purses full of coin.
Afterwards, for her trouble, I slipped the cook a coin, and for her trouble, I slipped the maid a coin, and then when I asked them if the guard enjoyed the cherry cream pie, I was shown A Look which I was given to understand was Not A Happy Look, and when I asked if there was any left, I received an Even Less Happy Look, at which point I gave each of the women five sovereigns each, and took my leave.
I supposed I wasn’t too unhappy about the pie, and then off I went. Rather than wearing my finest kid gloves, and my deep purple silk cape, instead, I put on a pair of my older doeskin boots and a satin cowl of sky blue. The leather bag that held the purses had only a silver buckle, instead of a gold one. Charmed by my own disguise, I went out the kitchens door, and directly down the smooth brick road to the markets.
I looked for a poor person on whom to bestow gifts, and I found a wretch who had only two horses to pull his cart, and so I smiled as I pressed a purse into his hands, and slipped away.
The next poor thing I found didn’t even have rings for half her fingers. I gave her a purse, too.
I only had one purse left, and I wanted to make it count. I walked far from the castle and found myself in front of a house that had but one level. The outside stone was neither granite nor marble but seemed of simple rock! What a lowly place it was, windows bearing only shutters and no colored glass.
When a child came out and had only a frock and pinafore and no jewels in her hair, I knew I’d found the place. I gave her the last purse, the largest, and told her to tell her mother they could at least eat tonight, if nothing else, and then ran all the way back to the castle, and knew I’d have to talk to the scullery maid again about cherry cream pie, and I hoped this time she could give the guard a larger piece, in order that he might be distracted for longer.
