The Crown No One Saw — Every evening after supper, Calla climbed the west stair with a soft rag and dared herself to polish one dull spot before the bell went bong. Read the full story →
Every evening after supper, Calla climbed the west stair with a soft rag and dared herself to polish one dull spot before the bell went bong. The stone smelled cool and rainy, and the great shield waited in the quiet with its blue cross catching the last light.
Until one day, drip, drip, drip—water ticked from the ceiling above the crown shelf. Because of that, Calla used her polishing rag to plug the crack. Because of that, the shield stayed smudged, but the crown stayed dry, shining faintly like a little sun. “Nobody has to know,” she whispered.
At dawn, the captain found dry velvet under the crown and one damp rag tucked high in the stones. If you study the curls and points around the crown, maybe you can guess where Calla reached before the bell went bong.
