The next day I awaken and take breakfast in the kitchen once again. Cecil joins me and I tell her about what occurred last night.

“She could be lying,” she says nearly flinging porridge at me with her spoon.

“Yeah,” I nod. “But I don’t… I don’t know…”

“It seems rather odd doesn’t it? Just singing there? Are you sure it’s a blessing that she’s singing anyway?”

“I know nothing about the languages she speaks or much about where she comes from,” I huff.

“Alright, alright, I wasn’t blaming you for not knowing or anything, relax,” she smiles. “But there’s someone else we could be questioning though.”

“Someone else?” I ask.

“Why the conductor of course. You know he takes breakfast by himself after everyone leaves.”

“What?”

“Yeah, I mean it could really be an extreme case of jealousy. Tell me you haven’t thought about that before?”

“Well…”

“Oh, I have to go,” she says looking at the clock. “His royal brat will be wanting his breakfast soon.” Cecil stands but leans over the table and gulps in as much porridge as her mouth would allow and then waves and mumbles a goodbye and darts off.

“Cecil, you forgot the food,” a kitchen staff called out. She stops abruptly at the door swallows the contents in her mouth, screams “thanks Kelvin!” and runs to where she left a container with the princes food. “It looks like pancakes, but they are made out of carrots. Carrot pancakes. He’ll see, I’ll show him, make him eat his vegetables!” Then she laughs manically while rushing out the room again.

“Oh that girl,” Martha says. She is looking at the doorway where she left. “Always in a tizzy and always in a hurry. Well Heston my dear boy, what will you be up to again, going to search for your violin?”

“I think… I’ll talk to the conductor, like Cecil suggested,” I say thoughtfully spooning some porridge into my mouth.

“Surely you don’t think he pushed Mortimer? He couldn’t have! He wouldn’t have the strength the skinny man.”

“You can push anyone down with enough force then gravity’s your best friend,” another one of the kitchen staff responded while cutting up some potatoes.

“Yeah, but he must have had a run up in order to push Moritmer,” another one says his hands in the washing up.

“Enough, enough!” Martha squawks. “None of this useless chatter, no one has any proof of anything. So I better not be hearing any outside rumours from outside the kitchen do you hear me?”

“Yes Martha,” came a chorus in unison.

“And you,” she turns to Heston. “No matter what you think you are going to do today you will also go see Mortimer. The poor thing. Anyone would think you are avoiding him and the rumours are not doing you any good.”

“I don’t care about the rumours,” I mumble into my porridge. The people that matter to me know that I didn’t do anything of the sort.

“Well, I care about the rumours and you will go see him. Alright?”

“Yes Martha.”