Pauper Princess

Chapter Twenty-Two

It was not long before we reached the unused stretch of dirt that led to the old warehouse district. Many of the buildings near the outskirts of the city had long ago been abandoned, most businesses moving more towards the center of London, where they got far more attention and money.

Most of the old buildings were caving in on themselves, the foundations crumbling and the ceilings sloping in at awkward angles.

But the old factory stood, and though it was rusting away, it was sturdy. There were only a few leaky patches in the roof, though there was a rather large hole from where someone had climbed atop it and ripped apart the chimney- likely to sell the bricks. This actually worked to the advantage of the street children seeking shelter, though, because the old chimney would have been far too old to light a fire in without setting the whole structure ablaze- the large hole in the roof made the perfect opening for smoke when a fire was created just under it, heating the old factory and protecting the children inside from the Winter chill.

"This is it," I informed Elizabeth, leading her up the decaying stone steps. I pulled her to my side when she stepped too close to the edge of the step and it broke off, causing her to almost fall. The door was sealed shut, just as all of the doors on the abandoned buildings were. But the bottom part of the door had been knocked out, so we ducked under the remaining wood and made our way in.

Children were scattered all around, despite the late hour. They were laughing and talking and running around- a group of boys were playing with a patched rag ball, playing hot potato and throwing it away as soon as they caught it. Another boy was sitting on a rope that had been thrown over one of the support beam, as two other boys pushed him as high as they could.

But there was no sight of John here- and I hadn't expected there to be. He was often drowsy by sunset, since his limp made it exhausting for him to make his way around the city all day long. So I weaved my way through the crowd, not pausing as I batted the rag ball away from us as it hurled towards Elizabeth's head- she had not even noticed it coming until I was already moving to block her from it.

There was a group of boys sitting on the stairs, and I stepped around them. Several greeted me, knowing me by name. I knew them, as well- most of us had been stealing and begging for money on the streets side-by-side for years. Aldouse shouted a greeting over the voice of the boy that he was speaking to, and Walter clasped my arm as I passed him by.

Elizabeth watched the nods and greetings with weary eyes. She leaned in close to me. "Amelia, who are all of these children? Why are they here?"

"Street children," I told her as we approached the landing. "Some are orphans, some runaways. Some have no backstories to share."

Elizabeth frowned, seeming dissatisfied, but I did not know exactly what to make of the expression on her face. Her eyes scanned the other children around us, and I wondered if I should tell her how offended every one of them would be by her pity.

It was calmer on the second-floor, as boys only came to the second floor at this hour to rest for the night. Several ragged and worn beds had been left behind by the owner after the factory had closed down and the children boarded within had been cast into the streets- the beds were still used by those of us seeking shelter, though, and each bed had two or three boys piled in beside each other. There were even more boys on the floor, some laying on the ground and some sitting upright against the wall as they slept.

When I did not immediately catch sight of John, I reached for the nearest boy- just like most of the children here, I knew him well enough. "Harold, have you seen John?"

Harold- who was somehow close to my own height, despite being an entire head smaller than me the last time I had seen him- nodded, pointing across the large space. "He is on a bed near the end of the room. Beside Edward and Fred."