I wandered the room watching the people dance, the swish and sway of the skirts, the elegant steps of the men. It was very smooth and choreographed. I was about to be impressed when I remembered this was programmed, an actual computer program. These people had not taken years of dance classes and practiced their steps.
I wonder what would happen if there were a disruption in the pattern. Could the code adapt?
I added a step to my plan. Dekka seemed to be getting smarter. I hoped she would understand what I wanted.
Finding what I was really looking for, a short, wide candle that had been burned down. I dipped my finger in the liquid wax. It was hotter than I expected. This was going to hurt, but for some reason, that excited me a little.
No, not in ‘that’ way. In a ‘this is going to be dangerous’ sort of way.
My heart beat kicked up and that similar thrill that I got from a fight started to run up my spine. I worried for a moment; danger shouldn’t be something I was excited to experience. I didn’t have a better idea.
I chose a moment when no one was paying attention to me. Not knowing how long the inattention would last, I carefully poured the wax that had pooled at the top of the candle into my palm. Yes, that was painful. And unfortunately, there was not enough wax.
Turning my back to the candle let it burn and waited for more wax to melt. I pretended to be engrossed in watching the musicians. There was a variety of string instruments and a flute. It was quite pretty, even if not to my taste.
I added wax to my hand a couple more times. I tested to see if my body heat would keep it soft. It hardened a bit more than I wanted, but I hoped it would still work, it just would take more pressure than originally planned.
The wax was soft enough to take an impression, but how did I stop it from holding onto the key? I couldn’t exactly stand there and pick the key out of the wax mould while everyone watched. That was sure to way to earn a tour of the dungeons.
Oil or grease is what I needed. There was some very fatty pork at the buffet table, and I needed a bribe for my dog. Walking over I concealed the wax in my palm. I picked up a large chunk of greasy meat and transferred it to the hand with the wax. This had two useful actions: coating it with fat and keeping the wax warm and soft.
Dekka, with that canine psychic that all dogs possess, the ability to know when their human had a treat in their hand, came trotting up. Already knowing that the ham in my hand was meant for her.
“Come with me, Dekka. I need your help, and yes, the tasty meat in my hand is for you.” I told her quietly as I walked over to where Sera was standing, waiting for me by the doors.
“Did you talk to the cook?” I asked Sera
“Yes,” she said, looking very conspicuous in her attempt to be subtle. “She is starting to boil the sugar and water now. She says it takes at least twenty minutes before it’s ready. But she warned me that the sugar can’t be cooked too long or it will be useless.”
Great, I had a time limit. Ok, well, twenty minutes should be plenty.
“I need your help with something, Sera. Can you undo one of the ends of those streamers over there? See that at one side of the dance floor?”
She looked over to where I pointed. “Yes, of course, why?”
I took a deep breath and explained the whole plan. When I was done, Sera was smiling, and Dekka was wagging her tail in expectation of mayhem and ham.
Meandering my way over to the key, I paused a few times to exchange pleasantries, trying to make it look like I ended over there by chance.
Then I waited. Would someone stop Sera and ask what she was doing? Would someone stop Dekka before she could cause a ruckus.
It felt like long minutes, but I didn’t hesitate the moment there were cries and shouts from the dance floor, I dropped the ham and stumbled forward as if tripped.
I landed with my hand flat on the key open palm, greasy, warm wax right on the centre of the pillow. This was going to leave a stain, but that couldn’t be helped.
I felt the firm metal press rigidly into my palm through the wax and I held my breath as I flailed around trying to keep pressure on it. I needed a good strong imprint.
The flailing also acted as a distraction. I curled my fingers, desperately trying to peel the key off the wax, when a strong hand crushed my opposite shoulder.
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As much as his powerful grip hurt, I think the guard was trying to help me. I was still struggling to pop the key out of the wax and keep the wax cupped in my hand. I was starting to panic. The head of the key didn’t want to come loose. I had to stall for time.
“Unhand me!” I said in his general direction, trying again to hook my fingernails under the edge of the thin metal. Hand still pressed to the pillow, I leaned so that it looked like he was pushing me vs trying to help me up.
The guard took a step back but tried pulling me with him.
My hand raised slightly and the key was clearly not on the cushion. I glanced over my shoulder to see if anyone behind me noticed.
Their focus was all down closer to the ground. I looked up at the guard. A slow look of confusion was making its way across his face.
At that moment, Dekka jumped up at me, having scarfed down the treat I had dropped by my feet. She was leaping about in excitement, only slightly hampered by the bunting tied around her neck.
The voices behind me broke into my concentration.
“I demand it be removed.”
“Oh my.”
“Why is it dragging that fabric?”
“This would never happen in Silvermere!”
I saw the guard’s head turn to look at the commotion and took that moment to use my other hand to pop the key out of the wax. I also took the moment to flip the pillow over, hiding the grease smear on the luxurious fabric.
Sera was giggling in her hand at the other side of the room. Dekka looked thrilled despite trailing a long, thin strip of gold and blue fabric.
A small dog running through the dancers had caused the chaos I had hoped for. I looked up to see Lord Ashford approaching me with a storm of emotions on his face.
Trying hard not to move the wax in my palm, I quickly untied the bow around her neck, freeing her.
“I am so so sorry,” I said to him as he reached me, and curtsied deeply, panic giving me the grace not to trip. “I will go put her in my quarters now.” Not giving him a chance to respond, I beat a hasty exit, Dekka at my heels.
I risked a look over my shoulder as I got to the main doors. Lord Ashford was fussing with the key on the pillow and wasn’t paying any attention to me. The Dancers were starting back up again.
My shoulders sagged in relief. Real people wouldn’t have let me leave so easily. Hooray for NPCs and their lack of programmed curiosity. Actually, I wonder if my stats had any bearing on it. If my charisma was lower, would they have chased me down?
I turned towards the kitchens, not my room. Sera was already there with cook.
“A few more minutes,” said cook.
I carefully opened my hand. The wax was slightly bent where the key was long and thin, but the part that went in the lock looked good.
Sera looked over my shoulder as I gently pressed it flat, then passed me a plate to put it on.
The cook was spooning bits of the hot sugar mixture into some water and checking the consistency.
Sera and I both saw the flaw in our plan at the same time and looked at each other.
“Won’t the wax melt?” She asked.
“I hadn’t thought of that,” I admitted.
“Don’t you worry, dears,” the cook said, not looking up from checking the latest blob.
“The sugar can cool a fair bit and stay malleable. And we can cool the wax down on ice.”
I looked over, surprised at this technical support from an NPC cook. She must have seen the look on my face.
“Keeping ingredients at particular temperatures so they can be assembled is a big part of a noble household’s cook’s role.” She said with a bit of haughtiness. It take many skills to put on a banquet suitable for Lord Ashford.
“I don’t doubt it," I replied.
The wax was put on a block of suspiciously magical-looking ice, and a hand towel was situated like a nest around it to hold back the warmth of the room. The sugar was now cooled so that it was like a slow-moving liquid. Cook took a spoon and carefully drizzled it into the impression in the still oily wax.
Her hand was admirably steady. Maybe NPCs just weren’t programmed to have a life like tremor when doing things. Every NPC could be as steady as a heart surgeon.
We waited for the key to cool, which took only a few moments and then I picked it out of the wax. It came up easily. It was perfectly smooth and shiny where it had sat in the mould. The key was slightly sticky and a deep caramel colour.
If I got caught, eating the evidence in this would be the tastiest option of all time.
“Thanks,” I said to Sera and the cook. But as I left, Sera followed.
“You should go back to the ball, your father will be missing you.” I said to her.
“Maybe,” she said biting her lip. “But I’d rather go see what is in that box with you. And maybe I can help by keeping an eye out for the guards.”
I shrugged. That wasn’t a bad idea. I had no idea if her being missing would cause someone to come look for her. But to be honest I liked the company.
No one was guarding the room. That was a relief. The door was locked, which for some reason I wasn’t expecting. I was about to swear when Sera pulled out a key.
“Not that I am complaining, but why do you have the key to the chamberlain’s door?” I asked wondering if there was some juicy conspiracy just waiting to be uncovered.
She held up the hey. “It’s a kind of skeleton key. All the upper household members and staff have it. It lets you go in most rooms, just not Father’s.”
Just like back in the real world. Privacy was a privilege only afforded to the rich. Though I was glad in this case.
No one came by, let alone questioned what we were doing. The box was sitting in the middle of a very tidy desk.
I carefully inserted the candy key. It fit perfectly. I held my breath and Sera clasped her hands under her chin. Even Dekka stopped sniffing under the bed to come watch.
I turned the key as smoothly and gently as possible. I felt the key turn a tiny fraction before there was resistance, then a soft ‘crack’.
“Oh no!” Sera gasped
I would have gone with shit fucker. But then I wasn’t a noble.
I don’t think this had been the right key.
Peering into the lock I pocked at it. The key had broken right where it emerged from the lock. Shit fucker indeed.
Now, not only did I suspect the key on the pillow was a fake, but there was hard candy blocking the lock. I had no idea where the real key was and had inadvertently made the lock extra locky.
I know it wasn’t supposed to be openable without unlocking the lock. But I kind of missed my club.
Bashing the stupid box, or trying to would have felt good.

