Script

Chapter 2: Empty Images

"Wat brings de gurls to my keetchen today?" he spoke with an accent that no-one could ever pinpoint. "Whare's de preence? I onlee see two preencesses."

"Eugene is being a bad boy," Elizabeth said refferring to her twin brother who always seemed to be getting trouble with the servants.

"Gud reedance, I say," he murmured, "i deedn't like dat boy dat much aneeway."

He grinned with our giggling selves.

 "I theenk I know wat you gurls want," he turned, most likely to grab some form of sweets before hesitating, there was nothing there.  "Wat are you doing?"  He barked at the blonde shadow that quickly dissapeared out the door, the 'r' pulled out with his accent.

"Let's go get him Elizabeth!"  I shrieked, racing out the door with the princess in tow. The thrill was rejuvinating and filled them with excitement of the chase. The boy was quick, they could give him that. And he knew all the good hiding places too.

It wasn't long before we'd stopped, short of breath, panting. The little boy had long dissapeared. The chef was panting behind us his brow lined with sweat, whispering some very harsh profanities no doubt. His right hand was equipped with a meatcleaver and his left contained a greasy frying pan. He was preparing for attack.

We all waited in silence for the boy to come forth so he could ease his punishment, or at least keep the food he fought so hard for. It was probably one of the servant children that lived in the east wing of the castle, the servants wing. The servants were never underfed, they always had a place to sleep at night, and they never once were treated badly. So there really was no reason for the servants to go against the castle rules, the royals were fair and just.

THUMP!

A candle clattered to the flood. The melted wax spreading against the cool marble and hardening instantly. The flame had flickered out due to the gush of air the fall insinuated, but there really was nothing to cause the candle to drop in the first place.

The three of us frowned.

"Do you think there's a monster in the walls?" I nudged a frightened Elizabeth. She raised her shoulders as if to say 'I don't know'.

"De walls have de secret passage," Francy commented, "De boy in de walls. Genius boy, too bad he gonna geet hurt."

Francy edged quitly towards the walls, raising the frying pan above his head he got closer and closer still untill he was a few inches away. He brought down the pan with a great force and broke the wood wall. A small shivering boy stood there with the cakes in his hands and saw dust lining his brown-blonde curls like a layer of snow.

"Lance?!" The cook looked outraged, "Thees ees de third time I see you steeling my cookeeng! Once more and thees meet-cleever is in your curly blonde head! Understand boy!"

Francy's face looked redder than a tomatoe, he would know, he'd been cooking with them a long time.

The boy's bluish-green eyes looked up at him with an innocent demeanor, before the boy grinned and ran off with the cakes. His bag bouncing behind him as Elizabeth and I frantically chased after him once more. We caught up to him but he was still a few feet ahead of us, it was evident he'd done ths many times before.

We'd never been more thankful for Eugene at that moment. His pudgy little butt had stepped out onto the hallway right in time for the boy to bump into him and fall to the floor. The plates that held the cakes crashed to the marble and broke into a trillion pieces, the cakes themselves smushed against the floor. His bag had opened and the contents had spilled out.