25 Rapunzel
Falling into the gardens didn’t go as planned. The flowers I recall seeing aren’t as large as the one I just traveled through in the Red Woods, and the connection through the earth and across the lands makes my stomach roll. It’s kind of like popping out of a hiding place, except the doorway is closed and you have to force yourself the rest of the way. I partially tear through the rosebud, slamming onto the ground on the other side of this bizarre portal.
Catching myself on my hands as I fall forward, I gasp for breath and will myself to stop dry heaving as the world spins. The journey leaves my head ringing, almost worse than when the spirits started screaming.
I need to get up. If someone spots me I won’t be able to sneak in anywhere to talk to Dorah or Midas. And if I see them together, they will back each other’s lies. I’m sure of it.
I will myself to listen to reason, dragging myself away from the flowers and over to the hidden shadows behind a tree. I’m sure Zarev would complain that I didn’t cover my tracks, but the fact that I haven’t been sick yet is a good sign. I don’t know if I’ll ever be used to traveling like that.
Shadow hopping is one thing, but I’m not sure I can stomach doing that again.
Groaning, I listen through the trees and try to get a hold of myself. I’m not sure how long I lay there trying to figure out the next step, but a soft meowing makes me jump.
I look around, trying to pick apart shapes in the shadows, before soft fur brushes against me. My shoulders relax as I sit up, running my hand over his back. “Cheshie.”
My cat purrs, and guilt builds in my chest over my abandonment of him. I hope he had free reign to come outside while I was locked away, and they didn’t cast him out because I was missing. Grabbing him around the middle, I hold him close and bury my face into his pink and purple fur.
A sob tries to escape, and I swallow it down as he continues to curl against me. Of everyone in the castle, he’s the only one that would truly miss me for me. When I’m finished here, I can’t leave him again. I should’ve brought him with me all along. Even if he stayed back at the tavern in Sherwood, I’d be less afraid of someone hurting him there than I am of one of my parents getting tired of him prowling around.
He scratches at the back of my hand, making me hiss and I set him down again. He glances back and darts across the garden, leaving me in the dark. I blink, watching as he pauses across the way in the dimming light, looking back at me.
Cheshie’s never cared if I followed him or not. Most days I think he prefers to spend his time alone. In all these years I’ve never seen him wait for me to follow.
I’m reading into this way too much, but flowery mimics did try to eat me the other day. It’s no weirder that my cat wants to show me something. At worst, he just plans to meander until he finds a spot to nap, and I can get back to it.
In the back of my mind as I chase him across the yard, I know I’m stalling.
He’s fast for how lazy he acts, darting from the lawn towards the castle. The first thing I think I’m going to change about myself when I have time to breathe is to forgo dresses. I’m close to tearing off the skirts as I labor behind him.
Who in their right mind decided women on epic quests don’t deserve pants?
I never intended on going back to the castle like this, especially not without Zarev. But waiting could have taken too long, and as much as I’ve learned to despise my parents, the kingdom doesn’t deserve to suffer for their poor, selfish choices.
Cheshie slips through a propped open door and I slow my steps, my hair wrapped around my arm so it doesn’t snag as I move. Rushing around is leaving me winded, and I miss the ease of hopping through shadows with Zarev.
My cat is having the first athletic moment of his life, and I almost start to think this is payback for leaving him. Or maybe I’m just avoiding my problems by playing with Cheshie. We climb three long flights of stairs to my parents' floor before I simply can’t go on, leaning heavily against the wall.
“Cheshie,” I gasp, panting as I slide down to sit. I can’t risk being here long, but there’s little spots in my vision so I need to take a breather. “I’m glad you’ve got your own personal workout routine, but I can’t keep running.”
He meows, pouncing backward to look at me. I scratch his head as he leans into me, purring contentedly. I’ve successfully run around the castle like a loon, avoiding the guards who are probably with Midas preparing for the onslaught of spirits approaching the kingdom, but I’ve accomplished nothing.
Sharp footsteps startle me and, panicked, I reach blindly behind me for the nearest door. The only good thing about living in a castle this size is there are many unused rooms. The door clicks and I scramble backward, hiding inside and shutting the door as quickly as I can.
I realize I’ve picked a closet when I reach back and hit the wall. Cheshie is quiet in my arms, and I shift around to kneel.
“I can’t believe you haven’t located her yet. Midas says he can feel her presence so Rapunzel is in the castle. Stop wasting time and find my daughter!”
“Of course, my Queen.” Two voices answer simultaneously and I’m surprised to realize that I recognize them. It’s Anastaia and Priscilla. Even without seeing them I recognize the lack of care in their voices, the monotone tempo that they both always speak in.
“If the city wasn’t under siege I would send the two of you to the gallows like that wicked stepsister of yours,” she growls, and there’s poison in Mother’s voice that I thought was only reserved for me.
My thoughts drift to Legs’ story and I clench my hands together. My mother did some wicked things and I have no question in my mind that whoever Cindy was, she died just like Gothel Tremaine.
“I expect the two of you to be able to corral her without incident,” Mother continues.
“What about her hair,” Priscilla asks, her voice a little more naselly than Anastasia’s. “Or that new burning power? I don’t want my face burned off.”
The echoing slap resonates with me, and I can hear Anastasia gasping just after. “Speak back to me again, wench, and I’ll hit your baby sister harder.”
I scowl. She’s smacking Anastasia around for Priscilla being herself. That sounds exactly like what I expect from the Queen.
There’s a bit of shuffling, then the sounds of retreating footsteps before the sharp clip of heels on the stone floor returns to me. I wait until the sound fades into the distance, Cheshie squeezed to my chest, and hold my breath when I peek out.
Dorah’s hair vanishes around the corner ahead, long locks flying in the air. She’s moving fast, and I hesitantly peek out to see if the sisters are gone.
For now, I seem to be lucky. I doubt it’ll hold out for long, so I cling to my cat, shut the door as fast as I can, and hurry down the hall after the Queen.
My heart is beating hard enough that Cheshie keeps trying to escape. But I want to make sure he runs the opposite way before I face her. I don’t know what’s going on in the castle, but I could hear the anger in her voice.
I shoo Cheshie away, who gives me a bored look and begins to lick his paws instead of going anywhere. I hurry him halfway down another hall and open a random door, setting him just inside. I want him to be safe and away from the rage of my parents, but the more time I waste the more likely it is that I'll be caught.
I can be more than my parents' pawn. I went on a journey, but I didn’t hone any skills, I just clumsily discovered them. I need months or years to explore all the things I’ve learned about myself but I got mere weeks instead. Half of that time was spent traveling from place to place or passing out because I didn’t know how to control my magic. I’m still not sure I do.
But there’s a chance at some point in time, I was meant to be with another like me. Someone who could understand the uncertainty that comes with this gift and questions their place in this world. A person I never knew about, a sister or brother who may not even exist anymore. One who was stolen from me and this kingdom. I try to focus on that point, remembering my anger and confusion when the pieces fell together. It could be a lie, but it correlates with the letters from Lady Tremaine and sounds like something shady my parents would do.
In my heart, I know that's why I stopped here first. Confronting Midas means fighting, screaming, war. I might be able to guilt Mother into telling me the truth if I push hard enough. She may be cold but Midas is all-controlling. I have the slimmest chance of getting through to her but once I see Midas, there’s no turning back.
Mother has gone inside her room, so I sneak in, hair held like a rope in case I need to… I don’t know. Kill the Queen? The answer seemed so simple when I was hurting back in the Red Woods, but now the lines seem to blur. I jumped into this without considering what my actions might mean.
“I’m not going down for this,” Dorah growls, pulling me from my thoughts. I shake my head, peering around as I stand in the entrance. There’s no light, but I can hear her voice carrying from someplace.
My parents' bedrooms are a mystery to me. I believe Midas keeps statues of his victims in his half, and Dorah’s is covered in celestial markings and star patterns, which throws me off.
She likes the sky?
“Where is it?”
I follow her voice, padding across the stone floor to the shared room they have. This is where I’ve sat a few times when there was reason to bring me here, usually to reprimand me. Their bedrooms are different from anything I remember. Thinking back, Dorah used to bring me in here for tea.
The tea that came from a replica of the Phoenix Roses in Legs’ garden. I don’t know how the tea worked, or what purpose it held, but the taste was almost identical to the one Legs served me.
But Mother had a meltdown when Zarev spilled the cup, and they couldn’t give me another drink before Arthur visited. If it wasn’t drugged or poisoned, why did Mother get so upset? It still doesn’t make sense to me.
Rounding the corner I find an open cabinet. Dorah’s mutterings drift from within, and when I glance around the open doors I find a short staircase. I definitely don’t ever recall seeing this. Taking a deep breath, I descend the steps, waiting to see something sinister. But when I round the corner, all I find is Dorah, kneeling as she flips through a book.
“There has to be a way,” she grumbles. “Where is it?”
I clear my throat, stepping into the room. Dorah’s head snaps around, her sharp eyes glaring into me as she looks up. “Looking for something, Mother?”
“Rapunzel,” she breathes, standing. The book stays open on the ground, the spine broken from use or old age. “We thought you were dead.”
I frown. A few weeks gone and they assumed I didn’t survive? People have gone through worse and survived for a longer time. “I notice you didn’t look for me.”
She shakes her head, the surprise morphing to annoyance. “This isn’t the time to get bratty with me. How did you get back here? We couldn’t find you anywhere in Tressa, even when we ripped apart the civilian homes. No one saw you on the docks, and I think we would’ve seen strands of golden hair in the water if you went that way.” She lifts her chin. “How did you get through the wall?”
“I went over it,” I admit, thinking of Zarev. I need to be careful so when this is over I can go back to him. Getting killed in Tressa means my time with my Reaper is finished. “And I learned that there’s a whole world out there, outside of Tressa.”
“Oh, Rapunzel,” she scoffs, crossing her arms. “You learned that the world is full of tragedy and danger. The people living beyond the wall struggle to survive and know nothing of the big picture. They fear the powerful and cower in the face of adversary. We never told you about the rest of the country because it wasn’t worth the trouble. You needn’t worry about something you would never see.”
“But I have seen,” I breathe, digging into the bag. I have Gothel’s letters, but if I show them to her she could easily destroy them, along with any evidence of what my parents have done. “I saw a great many places. Sherwood Forest, taverns, woods, and even a garden in the Red Woods.”
Her jaw falls open, and her eyes narrow. “The Red Woods?”
I nod. “I learned about all kinds of secrets out there. I even met a gardener in the Red Woods who recognized me.” I pull the pressed rose out of the bag, leaving behind the letters. “She showed me a beautiful garden where curious flowers grow. And there among all the plants was a large rose that looks like the prized one in our courtyard. I thought it was a coincidence, until I learned the name.”
Crushing the flower, I throw the dried petals on the floor. “A Phoenix Rose, Mother, really? Or should I even call you that?”
She bares her teeth at me. “Don’t even joke about that! I bore you for all those long months, unable to accept the touch of my beloved because the Golden Magic pulsed inside you, too. Having that golden connection was too strong, and we had to stay separate to keep your small body from seeking out the source of magic.”
I narrow my eyes. “Just me or another as well?”
Dorah’s lips twist to the side but her pretty bronzed skin turns ashen at the question. “What lies did you learn out there, girl? You think the outsiders speak kindly of the Golden Queen?”
“You have no magic,” I remind her, fisting my hands. “You aren’t the golden anything, because you have no power other than a sharp tongue and manipulation tactics. You’re from lands far away and other than being a fun bartering chip, you have no power in court. That’s a pain you passed onto me. My whole life, you treated me as a pawn.”
I’ve never looked at my mother this way before. She was always cold towards me, just like Midas, but she didn’t threaten me. Midas may have beaten me occasionally but all she had were snippy words and control of my tower. She could place bars, locks, and guards but she couldn’t ever get into my head. She treated me like a prisoner, never her daughter, leaving me to know only loneliness.
Even now, I can see she’s not on my side. She never will be and as her fierce eyes glare into mine, I know that her means to an end are self serving. Unless there’s a reason to tell the truth, she never will. These secrets that Legs helped me discover were never meant to be found, especially not by me.
“We care for you,” she snaps. “We love you. And what we let you use your gifts for gives you an outlet. Untapped power can be dangerous. We were looking out for you.”
“By locking me away?” I breathe. “And lying to me about everything in my life?”
“Children need to be protected,” she reasons. “You have powerful magic. If you weren’t carefully guarded, something could’ve happened! Look what that monster did when he snuck over the wall. He killed Modred and stole you from the castle.”
My brows pinch together, glancing down at my hands. “I killed Modred, Mother. I melted his face off. Don’t pretend that you forgot when you were standing right there.”
“No,” she growls, shaking a finger at me. “You didn’t. You were coerced by that monstrous shadow man. A Reaper .” She spits the name like a personal insult, and I’m surprised she knows the right name. “Midas recognized him right away, like the loveless monster that once bedded the Mad Queen? I’m sure you heard all about her while gallivanting around Mystica like some wayward child and not a true princess.”
Loveless monster… she can’t mean the shadow man Zarev mentioned, could she? I would hope none of the Reapers slept with someone so… vile. If that’s even what the shadow man is.
“I heard plenty,” I counter, stepping further into the room. It’s entirely made of stone, with a few scattered torches and random items piled against the wall. There’s a thick blanket tossed over something in the middle of the room and I can’t help eyeing it as I move. “Like rumors that the Queen of Tressa was having twins.”
She sneers. “Listening to the gossip of commoners?”
“I’m listening to people who didn’t shield me from the truth,” I tell her, shaking my head. My scalp is getting warm, and if my emotions cause my magic to get out of hand this is going to turn into a nightmare fast. “You know what I noticed when I was gone? I unlocked new power. My hair? It’s thick as rope and twice as strong. It’s deadly. And I can heal, Mother, did you know that? No idiotic rhyme or words to speak, no ritual. I just will the magic forward and it follows my command. Isn’t that curious, Mother ?”
Baring her teeth at me, she takes three steps forward before backing up a bit. I still have my hair coiled around my arm, and she’s looking at the weighted hair with newfound apprehension. “Your mind is confused. A bit of tea and time at home will do you wonders.”
“While spirits storm the kingdom?” I scoff. “What are they looking for?”
“Oh, you said you have all the answers,” she mocks, crossing her arms. “You’re such a big girl, so grown up, completely capable without Mommy and Daddy. You should know the answer.”
My skin pricks at her words.
“You’ve always been the resilient one, Rapunzel,” she hisses, twisting to the side. As I watch, she begins to circle me, and I copy her movements. “Strong. Determined. The magic burns too brightly for you. We knew you would need some assistance to stay in line.”
“In line,” I mutter, narrowing my eyes. “You wanted to use me and nothing more.”
She clucks her tongue as we move and when I think she’s turned us so she can escape, she surprises me by continuing to pace me. I realize that she truly doesn’t see me as a threat. “Rapunzel, you’ve learned all your information from the wrong sources. Why not ask Mommy?”
“Because you will never tell the truth.”
“You know, I always thought you’d be more appreciative of what we gave you,” she snips, obviously beginning to tire of our little game. “We were blessed with a family and wanted the best for you. So your King infused his Golden Touch with the petals of the Phoenix Rose, which can withstand anything, even gold. You drank it reluctantly, but it worked. The magic is a part of you.”
I stop walking. “You… gave me tea so I could drink that plant?”
“So you could drink the gold as an infant,” she replies easily. “We tried with Rosen, but breastmilk or tea leaves didn’t work. The gold zipped through her poor little body. We held off giving you Midas’ gift until we found a way to curb the power.”
I shake my head, shifting back on my heels. “I don’t understand. Who is Rosen?”
Dorah purses her lips, glancing away and back again. “She’s your twin. The one that died from the Golden Touch.”
I stare at her, trying to hear the words she’s saying, but nothing makes sense. “A… twin?”
“That’s what you came in here screaming about, isn’t it?” Dorah snaps. “I did carry two children. Both born alive. Rosen a few minutes before you. That was the moment I decided I would never bear children again. Two was plenty for the Kingdom. But her weak little body couldn’t handle the gift, even when all he did was touch her hair. There was almost no gold in the drink. She was weak and couldn’t handle it. Natural selection took care of the rest.”
I grip my hair, my hands warming. “She was your daughter. My… my sister .”
Dorah shrugs, and I can see in her eyes that there’s no regret, no love lost. “She was weak. The Mad Queen visited not long after that, trying to strike a deal. We were going to bury her soon, but she asked for the body. We let her have it.”
I gasp, grasping the front of my dress over my heart. For a moment, hearing about her horrifically short life, I thought maybe I could find the grave, see this sister I should’ve had who died too soon.
But they gave her to the Mad Queen, like she meant absolutely nothing.
I don’t think. One moment I’m standing there in a panic, the next I’m charging forward, letting go of my hair to hold out my hands. They burn as much as the realization does.
I could’ve had someone. We could’ve survived together. But that was never in the cards for us.
Dorah snarls, jumping backward when I race towards her. My hands burn, the suppressed power seeming to wash over me in a wave.
I can’t see past the rage. Dorah and Midas only ever thought of themselves, even down to the children who were their own. Rosen, whoever she could be, was never given a chance.
I see my mother's lips moving, but the words no longer register. I drop my hair, holding out my hands, and in a whirlwind of my own design, I let the magic burn.