Chapter Seventeen

"This is nice," Maria admitted.

Raphael chuckled, "One of the nicer dances I've had in a while." He gave her a slow twirl and pulled her close, so close he could smell her hair and the plastic of the so-called pearls.

Maria rested her head on his shoulder, smiling against him.

"You alright?" Raphael asked.

"Yeah…" She lifted her head, "It's just a bit of a hectic day for me and… it's just nice to dance with someone I can call a friend."

Raphael smiled, "Fast friends."

Maria considered his chest as she giggled. "I know its silly, but I honestly haven't… felt safe since arriving in Paris. And I know this sounds like such a cliché, and I understand if you don't share similar feelings, but it's just nice knowing I have someone on my side."

She leaned back into his shoulder and sighed against him. Raphael felt a bit awkward, he wasn't too proud to admit that, but he rested his cheek again the top of her head and just allowed them to gently move from side to side.

"We found out a bit more about the Unknown Royals," Raphael informed.

Maria didn't move her head, instead holding his hand the smallest bit tighter. "Figure out why they came after me?"

"Nothing concrete," Raphael informed, "But we suspect it was the go after your pendant."

"My pendant?" Maria lifted her head, her voice raised.

"Shh," Raphael urged, "Hushed voices." Maria complied as Raphael glanced around at the other guests.

"So, Sam hasn't found anything yet?"

Raphael shook his head. "We haven't talked to Sam since earlier today. But Anita and I think your pendant has something to do with these three artefacts the Unknown Royal is linked to. They need the Ring of Liberty, the Pendant of Royalty and the Crown of France. Anita and I think they may be trying to collect them, that's why they came after you."

Maria's face rested in deep thought. "But this pendant isn't an artefact, Raphael. I've had this since I was a baby, it's a necklace."

Raphael lifted his ringed hand from her hip and held the necklace between his fingers. The inscription of the beetle on both trinkets started a very dull glow, which gradually became brighter. Raphael took off his hat and hid the jewellery beneath it to dampen the light. Aside from a man casting a curious look, no one else noticed. Raphael returned his hand to her hip and his hat to head. "I honestly doubt that's just any necklace."

Maria made a half-smile, keeping her thoughts silent as she was picked up and twirled at Raphael's influence. Moments later, her smile became fuller.

"How come you're here, Maria?" Raphael asked quietly, "It looks like you left your town for the sole reason to attend Fete de Paris, more specifically this ball. And you got invited. An orphan from a rural town doesn't get one of those out of the kindness of Royal's hearts."

Maria's body vibrated with a chuckle. "Trust me, I'm only here because I need to be," she assured, "If you and Anita weren't here I wouldn't know anyone. I've never seen these people, never met them before this evening, or even know they existed." She straightened, "Why are you here?"

Her counter took Raphael off guard. "Because you invited me."

Maria looked up at him with shiny eyes. "I can read people, Raphael. Quite well, I might add. You and Anita have a different reason for attending this ball, and now I must admit it makes sense now." Raphael was speechless. She continued, "I'm not even going to ask what you've got planned, just try not to rope me into it."

Raphael attempted to play dumb, but she laughed in his face.

"Surely, you're better at lying than that," Maria countered, "I've read the papers, Raphael. I know that the Ring of Liberty was stolen from the Louvre a day ago, people are going manic over a so-called Phantom of Paris?"

Raphael felt something drop in his stomach, a tightness in his chest he could only describe as panic. But he was determined to compose himself, forcing a smile. "I don't know what you mean."

Maria rolled her eyes, "Right." She took a quick glance around and pulled herself closer, resting her chin on his shoulder so her lips were near his ear. "There's going to be a… bit of a distraction this evening. The crown is on display in the halls somewhere, likely guarded. If one of you slip away, you'll have more than enough time to grab it before people going looking."

Raphael's smile became genuine as Maria stayed leaning against him. "You're something else, Maria Stephany."

He could feel her heartbeat against his chest. "I'm scared…" she admitted quietly.

Raphael lifted his hand from her hip and rested it on her back, forming an embrace rather than a dance.

"We'll figure this out, I promise."

Maria hugged his chest, despite how tightly she was holding him, Raphael could feel the small tremble she was radiating. She looked up to Raphael, immediately recognising that the Unknown Royals didn't appear to the be the only thing on her mind. "What's wrong?"

There was a wave of surprised screams travelling across the room. The noise stopped the music, ceasing all dancing within the room to look over to the commotion. Raphael widened his eyes, "Oh dear." He started making his way through the crowd, Maria close behind him. As he got closer he could hear the grunts and yelps of children. He sighed, "Please not Anita, please not Anita…" He parted two people surrounding the commotion and saw a girl in green punching a little boy's face on the ground. They were surrounded by discarded and loose bits of sandwichs.

Raphael pinched the bridge of his nose and groaned, "Oh dear…"

He walked forwards and grabbed the girl, attempting to lift her off the boy. However, the girl clung to the boy, one hand holding a fistful of his hair and the second pulling on the shoulder of his suit. "Anita, let him go!"

"No! He was being a jerk!"

"Anita! You can't attack everyone who's a jerk! Let him go! Now!"

Anita's hand slipped from his shirt and several hairs were pulled from the boy's head. Raphael held her off the ground, as high as he could raise her. When she couldn't reach the boy she didn't struggle in his grip. Her hair had become shambles in the scuffle, she blew some locks from her eyes.

"Anita keep struggling," Raphael subtly whispered through his teeth.

"What?"

"Keep struggling." Raphael didn't know how long he could convincingly hold Anita up.

Anita didn't need a reason. She started kicking at the air, waving her arms and squealing. She wasn't making any sense, attempted to kick Raphael, eventually demanding she be put down.

"I'm so sorry! She's usually so well behaved!" Raphael announced losing his grip on Anita. He lost his grip and she attempted to run away, only for Raphael to catch her arm.

"Anita, that's enough! Other room, now!" He dragged her behind him as he walked towards a doorway leading away from the ballroom. He looked over his shoulder and saw a surprised Maria, he gave her a wave and walked past some guards to go into the next room. Anita screaming in protest as her heels were dragged across the marble. With her free hand, she punched his arm.

"Okay, you can stop now," Raphael said letting her go.

She proceeded the kick him, "That hurt." She rubbed her wrist.

Raphael held her arm gently and examined where he had grabbed her, noting a red mark. "Oh dear…" he was shocked, "Sorry about that. We made it believable though."

He rubbed her arm gently, hoping to numb the discomfort. "If it's still sore in the morning, I'll get you anything you want."

"Anything?"

Raphael adjusted, "Within reason."

"So, no cat?"

"No cat."

Anita pouted, "How about you play my favourite song on the piano?"

Raphael made an exaggerated thinking face, watching Anita become annoyed, before smiling. "Of course. I'll do that regardless for you." Anita smiled. "Alright, objectives," Raphael rose, "We have to find the painting and retrieve it, find the Royal records for further research and go get the Crown of France. Any questions?"

"So many that we don't have time to answer," Anita replied folding her arms.

"Perfect. Let's go."

*

With the pair understandably dismissed from the ballroom, the duo only needed to ensure Anita seemed to be acting up whenever a guard or guest appeared in the hallways.

There were many artworks hanging on every wall, ranging from the most detail of portraits to landscapes of historical events, such as weddings, coronations and hunting trips involving bloodhounds and beagles. Much to the young thief's surprise, there weren't many guards roaming the hallways with these paintings.

"Raphael?" Anita asked looking to the several paintings on the walls, "If the palace has so many paintings, why didn't anyone realise the one we're looking for is a fake?"

"Because, Ann, my Father is just that good." Raphael peered around the corner, upon seeing no one continued. "Keep an eye on the plaques. We're looking for a portrait of Fran Pourpus. Looks like an unhappy lady with a white lacy collar."

"Raphael that description doesn't help," Anita informed walking past one with a similar description, however, she couldn't guess whether it was a man or a woman.

"Orange-brown hair, waist up, orange and gold dress," Raphael elaborated scanning every painting they passed, regardless of whether it was a portrait or not. Not surprisingly, none of them were forgeries.

"Is this it?" Anita stopped before a gold-framed portrait that stretched up the wall, assaulting viewers with remarkable details of this past Queen.

Raphael kneeled before the plating and nodded, "Yep. Fran Pourpus." Raphael started searching his coat pockets for his knife, preparing to slice the painting out of its frame, but froze. Without touching the artwork, his fingers hovered over the corner of the portrait. His digits travelled up the frame, his eyes examining little particulars in the paint strokes, the shading, the colour choice. He frowned. "This isn't a fake…"

Anita gave a sideways glance as she continued to look down the hallways. "How can you tell?"

"There's nothing of my Father on this, the canvas is correct, the paint strokes are authentic, nothing's been restored or aged or anything. This is real."

Anita looked at the portrait, unable to tell the difference between a real and fake. "I can't tell."

Raphael pinched the bridge of his nose. "Why is this here? This shouldn't be here." He punched the ground out of frustration and sighed, "My Father wasn't here."