19 Rapunzel
Zarev makes us shadow hop for another half hour, and I’m dry heaving by the time we finally stop. When he deems us far enough from the tavern, he goes off to hunt.
I don’t stop him this time. I need meat to fuel my body as well as a game plan to help calm my nerves.
Her life we must end.
The Queen more or less put a hit out on me, knowing that I’m outside the walls of the kingdom. There goes the vague memories I have of her not being a tyrant and forgetting her cat. It took very little time for her to decide to try and end my life.
Those Flowerborne weren’t fighters. They were messengers. And in hindsight, it’s clear they were weak. I don’t know if I should be offended or grateful that she didn’t bother with something stronger.
While Zarev might be gone to hunt, his shadows remain. It was bizarre watching him drag his fingers around the little clearing we stopped in, spiderwebs of inky blackness growing all around the space. Now they move like the shadows I’m familiar with, friendly wisps that tickle my legs and make me want to open up.
But I need the man attached to turn off my brain. Right now, all I can do is stress.
It’s not dark yet, so I dig around in the bag. The letters that Dahlia gave Zarev sit heavily in my hand, and I’m almost afraid to open them. This was important enough that he brought them along when we ran, so that must mean something.
Or maybe she’s just like me, holding onto things hoping someday they mean something.
I wait a few minutes to see if Zarev returns, and between the shadows and the breeze, I’m not really sure if there are creatures here or not but I know he wouldn’t leave if he wasn’t sure I was safe. After the gingerbread house, he understands my apprehension. But when another few minutes pass and nothing happens, I dig out the letters and open the first one.
It doesn’t make a lot of sense on the first read through.
June 18,
I hope my dear Priscilla and Anastasia understand why I had to do this, but if I can make my King see reason, perhaps he’ll bless me with the Golden Gift, too. Things across the land are changing, and I want to be on the winning side.
Last week my King snuck me off while the Queen was napping, and he took me hard behind the secret door to the throne room. The servants don’t even know about that one! I know that after I’ve completed my task and secured the next generation of golden royals, he will see my true worth and let me take the Queen’s place.
I will be a better mother anyway. I already have two beautiful daughters, and they deserve so much more than scrubbing and waiting on spoiled princesses that won’t ever value life the way we do. I just haven’t had my chance yet, but soon he will see.
Cindy did a fine job getting into the castle, and once I dispatched her and set her up, Midas made quick work of turning my stepdaughter to gold. Now that’s one less girl I have to worry about, and with the Queen’s labor coming any day now, these flowers are a necessity.
I’m saving the Kingdom of Tressa by doing this. Be proud of me, my girls, because soon we will rule the Kingdom at Midas’ side.
The Tremaines will not be silenced. My sweet Midas sees my worth, and soon he will know I’m more than a pretty hole. I won’t have the stretch marks of birth, the burdens of carrying two children through a pregnancy, and while Dorah toils in her room resting, the King will have me to fill those lonesome nights. I’ll be a royal in my own right soon enough, and my girls will have everything they ever needed.
It serves my stepdaughter right for always making us look like oafs. Clothes that she didn’t hem right, shoes that cut our feet, it’s no wonder Midas hated her as a maid. When he took me as a mistress, I was at least able to elevate my girls above the stables.
I blamed Cindy for that nasty spill Dorah took down the steps. Those twins survived the fall though, and I can’t get away with a trick like that again. I’ll have to bide my time.
I have the King’s interest in bed, and soon I’ll have the attention of his brain. When I’m made Queen of Tressa, no one will look down on me ever again.
I read the note four times, Zarev returning with something to eat sometime during the third. I see each word, understand the meaning, but they don’t make any sense.
I’ve never heard of Cindy, and as far as I knew Anastasia and Priscilla lost their mother to some tragic accident when I was very young. I know my father isn’t exactly loyal to Dorah, and she isn’t loyal to him, but a mistress while his wife was pregnant…
My lip curls. As if I need another reason to hate the Golden King more.
And what’s this nonsense about twins? I’ve never had a sibling, and I would remember if there was someone like me parading around the halls. I haven’t even heard a whisper of someone with my power outside of Tressa. So that part is surely a lie of Lady Tremaine’s.
Zarev doesn’t say anything, and I assume he can see what I’m reading. Tossing aside the first letter, I tear into the second. Much like the first, this one lacks a year, and I’m starting to hate that about Mystica.
June 30
I tricked the gardener! She saw me as the pitiful reject I pretended to be, and when she turned her back I picked the flowers just as my King instructed. I even got one down to the roots so we can plant one and keep the gift going. They were in the spot those Flowerborne mentioned, just growing along with the rest of the flowers like they aren’t anything special. Such a pity that is.
Midas is such a brilliant man. He knows how to twist his magic into a gift and grant that to his children. The healer at the castle predicts two little ones, and with so much trauma, surely Dorah will die in childbirth. She’s just a harpy, and they’re known for dying when they have children. At least, that’s the rumor my mother always shared with me.
I’ve hidden in the woods for three days. Getting the flowers wasn’t as hard as I figured. I kicked the crippled gardener -
That’s the letter. The entire letter. I flip it over to see if I’m mistaken, but there’s nothing else to read. Her cruel words hang in my head, and slowly I glance back at Zarev.
He keeps mentioning a gardener… and didn’t he recently tell me Legs are missing her legs?
“Did Legs ever meet a woman called Lady Tremaine?”
He glances up, looking at me like I’ve lost it. “I don’t know who Legs knows. We don’t really know each other that well. Lots of people try to steal from her garden; there’s supposed to be magical plants in there. Most of the thieves get eaten by the flowers, so it’s not a big concern for Legs'.”
He says it with a straight face, and I’m alarmed to realize he’s being truthful. Legs sounds like she is capable of taking care of herself, no issue.
I look back down at the notes. If I want to know what Tremaine stole, I’ll have to go see this magical gardener. Hopefully it isn’t too long ago for her to remember.
Digging around, I open the third and final letter. There’s a torn page at the front, and I think this is the last bit from the second one. Maybe Dahlia put them in the envelopes wrong, or Lady Tremaine did at some point. It picks up right where the last cut off.
… and ran from the gardens. She took pity on me because I ran into some wildlings on the outskirts of Camelot, but it was the perfect distraction to sneak about. She never suspected my purpose, and didn’t have time to question why I needed them.
For the Golden King, I will give anything. His children will be close to perfection, the blight that is Dorah the only issue I can foresee. Her less than perfect lineage would be the only competition to otherwise perfect children.
My breath catches in my throat, reading about a conspiracy I’ve never known. Flipping to the final page, I scan the letter, barely remembering to breathe.
August 26
Dorah still sits on the throne. I did everything that the King asked of me, yet he’s still with her. Even after childbirth! I know she can’t be as good as me, do things as well as me when she’s constantly complaining about her recovery.
I had my girls only sixteen months apart. Two at once? She won’t have to endure it again. Twins are a blessing.
He’s not letting me care for them. He doesn’t even allow me to sleep in his chambers right now! He needs to cast his magic on them so they can breathe in the gift and carry on his golden legacy. That doesn’t include Dorah! I despise him for traveling to lands so far away and returning with a bride.
That was supposed to be my wedding, my place, my crown! If he only had boys, there would be hope that one of my girls could marry into the throne. But now he’s focused on those two screaming babes, and I’ve been banished from the castle.
Banished. I went into the Red Woods! I collected the flowers and risked the travel back. I even spoke to King Arthur, and I lied to his face, I did! He asked if the flowers were important, and I lied and squished one beneath my boot to prove they were not. He left me alone after that, his soldiers walking past the fallen basket that held such prized possessions. They have no idea the gift that they gave up.
But my girls are still stuck in Tressa, and with the wall in my way I cannot just walk back into the kingdom. Camelot will be suspicious if I try to go there and sneak onto a ship, and I can’t show up looking haggard for the King. He’s got to remember how good I am.
Only I can take his love. Only I can ensnare him. And he threw me away, all because I’m not the mother of his girls.
“I don’t understand,” I whisper, barely registering the smell of something cooking. My eyes can’t lift from the paper.
“Rapunzel?”
I shake my head, glancing up at him. “Do you know who Lady Tremaine is?”
“No, I have no idea who that is. Is she in the letters?”
She is the letters. I drop my arms, glaring at the ground. The ramblings of some stranger shouldn’t affect me. They can’t affect me.
But her children, Anastasia and Priscilla, I know them. They’ve helped to care for me daily for years. Only a couple years separate us, and I can’t help wondering if they had any idea what their mother did with the King.
Surely they did. And if they weren’t aware as children, they had to have learned growing up. The castle doesn’t keep secrets from the staff, not juicy details like that at least. Maybe that’s why the sisters always hated me.
But… twins? Could I have a brother or sister someplace? It sounds insane, but I always assumed all the paintings on the wall were me because that made sense. With no other knowledge, it would be easy to disguise another among the decorations.
Zarev comes to sit beside me, and I thrust the letters into his hands. “I know where we need to go.”
We leave early the next morning. Sleeping on the ground isn’t something I missed, I think as I try to work the kinks from my joints. Thinking about where we need to go has me anxious and I wish I could work out my fear the way I do the soreness from my neck, back, and hips.
At this point I don’t know if I can face my parents ever again.
Zarev has read the letters, so he’s as up to date as I am. He doesn’t remember ever seeing this woman, though I cannot picture her either, so I have nothing to give him that would help. I do bring up the sisters, and he shrugs as we walk.
“They’re grumpy and unfriendly but most of the servants in Tressa seemed to be,” he tells me as we walk. We seem to be far enough away from the path the Flowerborne took, and even though I gave him a location, we’re taking our time. He claims to need all of his magic so we can shadow hop to The Barrens by nightfall, then cross in the morning. I think it would be easier to deal with during the night, but he’s adamant we won’t be crossing once the sun sets.
“Midas doesn’t have a lot of fans among the staff,” I agree.
“But those two sisters don’t stick out in particular,” he says with a shrug. “I did go and find some of the servants quarters, because staff often overhear things they shouldn't and gossip. When I wasn’t stalking your tower I hung out in the shadows down there. A lot of the staff fuck like rabbits.”
I shove him hard. “Stop that.”
He shrugs again. “Midas doesn’t provide much to do but work and think. Sex is a free pastime for the bored. The dark haired one-”
“Priscilla,” I supply.
“Yeah. She mostly slept with one guard. The other one-”
“Anastasia.”
He grunts. “She didn’t seem to sleep with anyone. She was mostly alone. They griped about you and the royals, but they didn’t seem hostile towards you. Priscilla rambled about killing Midas, but that seemed to be common among the staff. No one would be sad to see him overthrown.”
The words ring true in my ears, and my hand slides over my chest. If Midas is killed, Dorah would ascend the throne. If I were a son, they would have me rule in his place. But because Tressa is a land trapped in time, I would need to have a husband before anyone sees me as worthy to be Queen.
If I ever go back to Tressa, that’s the first thing I’m changing. After uncounted years of dictatorship, the people should at least be happy that I don’t have ideas to continue an evil rule. And I don’t need a man to support the ideas I already have.
Glancing at Zarev, an insane image pops into my head. A Reaper, the harbinger of Death, sitting on the golden throne beside me as we raise Tressa to a glory worth celebrating. I’d find a way to tear down the walls, and we could sit in the throne room and admire Sherwood Forest beyond our borders.
It’s an insane idea, one with too many holes to ever really happen. But for a moment, it’s fun to think about.
I doubt Zarev is the type who would want to marry into royalty. He already gets antsy staying in one place too long. He would be bound to Tressa, and that isn’t a role I see him agreeing to.
At some point our time together will end. He will continue on with his shadow-life, and I’ll try to find my place in Mystica. I’m no longer sure that includes Tressa.
I’m so lost in my thoughts, watching Zarev lazily walk with the scythe tossed over his shoulder, that I’m taken by surprise when a giant white bird launches itself into the path ahead.
Zarev throws out an arm, stopping me before we get too close. The enormous wings spread wide showing missing feathers and patches where its pink skin shows through. When the colossal head whips around I’m stunned to see the bird is missing an eye.
“Stay back,” he tells me, and the unreasonable urge to go to the creature washes over me. It looks tortured…
And it’s as big as I am. I wouldn’t be able to get a hold of it, and with the way its neck twists, I think using my hair would be a liability to the both of us.
Finally, it clicks into place. “Is that a swan?”
Zarev grunts, dropping his arms. “Swans like to hang out by Swan Lake and migrate far south when the seasons change. The weather is still holding, so I don’t know what this one is doing all the way up here.”
“This one looks hurt,” I say, trying to move past him. The swan continues to struggle, whipping it’s head around, and I’m startled when the creature looks at us with one golden eye, the gaping hole where the other should be a little terrifying to look at.
I take a step back, waiting for Zarev’s lead. The arrival of the bird seems to alarm Zarev, and he shifts his weight on his feet like he;s piercing something together. “Odette?”
The swan screeches, flapping its wings madly. Something about Zarev speaking to it seems to set the bird off, and it takes to the air again with its one, wild eye staring down at us as it tries to flap away. But the wings move unevenly, and it looks like one wing is badly damaged.
“Shit,” Zarev grumbles, taking off after the bird. He shoots an apologetic look over his shoulder at me, and I cannot help wondering what on earth is so important about a gigantic swan. But I hurry after him, well aware he’ll notice and probably be distracted if he doesn’t see me following. Maybe the bird has answers to something.
I’m not really sure what though. It’s a bird, not a book or a person, so what could the swan tell us? I don’t like that it’s injured, but Zarev clearly isn’t a bird whisperer and neither am I. I’m not sure we can calm it down.
Zarev sends his shadows after the creature, but they can’t do anything to stop the birds ambling body. He stays a fair distance back just like me, and I get the feeling he isn’t keen on standing any closer.
I’m out of breath when I manage to catch his cloak, and he shoots me an irritated look. The swan is still trying to escape, but at a slower pace. “Why are we chasing a bird?”
He blows out a breath, watching the creature put more and more distance between us. “Swans flock around Swan Lake. We’re pretty far from that side of Mystica.”
“Side?”
He nods. “Tressa is the southern most location in Mystica, and Swan Lake is the furthest to the west and second most southern kingdom. It’s on the opposite side of the continent from your home. I don’t ever really travel over there, the southwest is more of Raymundo’s domain to handle. But the birds over there don’t really travel…”
Zarev shakes his head, and I wait for more. “But you knew this one is named Odette?”
“Just a thought,” he mutters. “It’s a big swan.”
“Yeah, I noticed that.”
“It’s nothing,” he sighs, and he crosses his arms as the massive bird launches itself into the air again. It struggles but manages to take flight again, the damaged wing still looking painful but not holding the bird back as it catches the wind and shoots higher into the sky. “The eyes remind me of the Princess of Swan Lake. I only met her once. She has a green eye and a missing one.”
I blink, staring at the disappearing swan. That’s a very unique detail to be mimicked in a bird, but birds aren’t people. There’s no way the bird has anything to do with some princess on the other side of Mystica.
“Next time we speak to Raymundo, I’ll mention it to him. He can look into it if he really wants.”
I nod, eyeing the map again. Zarev’s description matches the layout as far as I can see, but I don’t really understand the significance of one lumbering, massive swan being off course from the rest of the flock.
Unless the bird has to do with the princess down there. Maybe there’s something to be concerned about after all.
“Come along Rapunzel,” he grumbles, picking his way back towards the abandoned path. “We are almost to the crest of the hill. When we get there we’ll start to shadow hop again.”