12 Steps Behind

Chapter 1

"Welcome to Bardell, heart o' the kingdom Drevix! Maps for sale here!" I call out from my perch atop the wall. The lot presently wafting through the city gates are the same as usual - farmers here to sell their wares, or grubby families with small children looking for a better life - either way, no coins to spare. But still, worth tryin'.
"How much?"
I do a double take - hadn't even noticed the chap walking towards me. Probably because his green soldier's cloak is so dirty that he blends in with the street.
"Four gold pieces."
"That's quite pricey for one bit of paper..."
"Better than getting lost, ain't it?"
"Fair enough." He laughs, holds out four coins from his pocket.
Wow, this must be my lucky day! I toss a map to him in exchange for the money and go back to surveying the crowd, but I can see from the corner of my eye that he doesn't leave.
"You know much about the monarchy here?"
"Just rumours."
"That may be all I need." The young man stares up at me, his green eyes squinting in the morning sun. "I can pay you well, if you'll help me out. Four days, that's all I need."
I nearly fall over
"Why would ya ask me?! I'm a street urchin!"
"Will you take the job?"
"Well, I ain't going to say no to money... I'll do it."
"Great! Come, you can now help me find The Peacock Lodge."
Wait, what? A soldier can afford a merchant's inn?! I open my mouth to question, but decide better of it. One doesn't survive the streets by shoving around their opinions.
Because I know all the shortcuts it only takes a few minutes to reach the lodge, and before we enter I catch a glimpse of myself in the glass of the windows - I'm an absolute mess, with a scruffy plait and dirt on my cheeks. But the stranger doesn't look much better, so that's something.
The lady behind the desk shoots us a withering look as we enter, but it vanishes as he casually tosses a rather hefty coin purse in front of her.
"I reserved the Eastern suite for tonight, but might it be possible to also have another room? Spur of the moment decision, I'm afraid. Oh, and please send up some fresh clothes."
"Y-yes, of course! Here are the keys! Enjoy your stay!" She stammers faintly.
My curiosity is only growing. Who is this scruffy soldier with so much gold?! If he's a thief then I should leave as soon as possible, but as we walk through the inn I'm too stunned to speak. It's spectacular: all the curtains and chairs are plush red velvet, with panelled wooden walls and a soft cream carpet underfoot - which we're probably ruining. Up the stairs we tread, and I'm almost afraid to put my hand on the polished bannister for fear of mucking it up. The stranger seems used to this though, and unlocks the suite with a nonchalant expression.
Inside is even more luxurious: it's all white, from the large four-poster bed to the cushioned chairs around the fire place, and everything looks soft.
"At last!" The young man sighs, and falls face-first onto the bed. After a moment he resurfaces, and begins to stare at me "I forgot to ask your name."
"Morg, you?"
"A pleasure to meet you Morg, I am Fenwick Heathcote."
Suddenly all the money and the stammering doesn't seem odd. Fenwick Heathcote - the hero of the troll battle, the savior of the nation Grevvle , the list goes on!
"Why the cluck-dragon are you here in Bardell?!" And why does he look like a hobo? I woulda thought he'd have tonnes of servants...
"I'm here about the mystery." He answers, sitting upright. "No doubt you've heard all about the princesses?"
"Course I know." I roll my eyes. "So you want to marry one of em?"
"Possibly." Fenwick pouts. "I've had lots of princesses offered to me, but none of them were right - they were all so obedient and shallow, I couldn't see a happy future as partners. I'm looking for someone with fire, a woman who knows she's my equal..."
"Well, aren't ya liberal. So you want my advice on the mystery?"
"Precisely! All these visiting nobles have probably failed to solve it because they're outsiders, like me. But you're streetwise, there have to be things that you know that'll help.
Well, it's definitely better than a thieving scam.
"Okay, I'll do it. But you are gonna pay me, right?"
"Of course! And you get to enjoy a room here." He grins, dangling the other key from calloused fingers.
Oh sweet rump of a banshee, this is my lucky day...
"Get yourself cleaned up and meet me back here for lunch, then we can come up with a plan."
"Right!" I grin, eagerly snatching up the key and dashing outside into the passage. My room is two doors down, and once the door is open I practically collapse against the door frame as the fragrance of roses spills out: it's all so beautiful. The bathroom has the new systems imported all the way from Gafferly, and so I'm able to run myself a bath and clamber inside before it's even finished. Bit by bit the grime rubs away, and I rub a nice-smelling oil into my frazzled black hair. By the time I climb out, I look like an entirely different creature. Much to my delight, the desk-lady must've been unable to guess my gender, and so I have a choice between men's and women's clothes! I pull on the grey pants and white shirt, plait my hair, and pull a grey hat firmly down on my head.
I'm ready to take on anything now, including a bunch of vanishing princesses. Feeling fresher than ever before, I make my way back to Fenwick's suite.
I'm not the only one who's changed drastically: I see now that his short hair is actually golden brown, his skin tanned, and his strong jawline makes me wonder how he ever looked like a hobo.
"Ah, Morg, you're back! Do tuck in." He gestures to the table, laden with decadent food.
Ravenous like an animal, I immediately do so and only vaguely listen as the solider muses to himself.
"So here are things as they stand: all twelve princesses share a bedroom, and are locked in there every night. Each girl always has a pair of dancing shoes, but every morning the maids come into find that every single pair of shoes have been worn through, though there isn't any music or noise at night to suggest that they've been dancing. Frankly, I don't understand why the mystery still goes unsolved. I know of a number of princes who've gone to try solve it, why aren't they all working together? Why would the king not accept such collaboration if it would ensure the safety of his daughters?"
"That's because the princes ain't ever returned." I answer, swallowing a mouthful of glorious peas.
Fenwick stares at me, eyes wide
"Have they not??"
"Not a single one, and it's always on the third night. The King don't advertise it for fear of no-one else tryin, nor do the other kingdoms coz of the disgrace."
"Then the situation is worse than I thought..."
"You chickening out?"
"Certainly not!" He rubs his chin thoughtfully. "I'll need you to come with me to the palace for my formal introduction -- I'll bet the culprit for all this trouble will be watching nearby, and I want you to observe too, just in case I miss something."
"Alright. But first, is there dessert?"