Rescuing Rapunzel (11 page)

“Blast, woman!” he snapped.

Lady Eva was a girl no older than his sister, Kiki, but far more dangerous. At least Kiki focused her energy on knowing everything, instead of the empty pursuit of noblemen. Lady Eva had one of the loveliest faces in the kingdom–dark blond hair always in perfect curls, lips stained with the perfect amount of rouge to make them appear to have just been kissed, and doe-brown eyes–but it hid one of the most relentless hearts he had ever known.

According to Kiki, rumor had it Lady Eva’s family had some difficulties and they had been pushing her toward a good match for the last few years.

“You should be more careful, my lord.” She batted her eyelashes at him. “It would have been most unfortunate to damage the lovely dress I just purchased.” She twirled, then dropped into a too-deep curtsey in order to show off the low neckline.

Nick was not about to fall for her games. “You should speak to your seamstress. They seem to have forgotten some of the trim.”

This only made Lady Eva puff her chest out more as she stood, accentuating the low line. “Oh, but my lord, this is the latest fashion.” She licked her lips as she scooted closer to him.

Nick stepped backward. “I suppose my senses have not caught up to fashion, then, for I prefer a bit more mystery.”

“Mysteries are so overvalued,” she said, not letting him by. “I much prefer knowing exactly what I am getting.” She ran her gaze over him in a way that made Nick cringe.

“Ahh, Lady Eva,” Penn said, “what a charming frock.” He held out his arm.

Of course, Eva took it, smiling at him, and immediately began prattling on to Penn about the new dress and the seamstress and all the woes of getting it.

Penn glanced at Nick, without saying a word. He did not have to. Nick nodded. He knew he owed his friend.

Chapter 19

I held the raven feather in my hand, turning it this way and that, marveling as the inky color turned almost blue in the light. I ran my finger down the length of the feather, watching it part under my nail. I trailed it over my face, letting it kiss my eyelids, then down my nose, and I let out a giggle.

I glanced at the book next to my bed. I did not wish to lose the flowers Nick gave me, so I pressed them in the heaviest book I could find. I picked up the book, hugging it to my chest. Telling myself it was only because I wanted the flowers pressed faster, but my heart knew otherwise.

The birds seemed aware of my happiness, for they flew in their own dance outside and, in a moment, I was singing the melody of their flight.

I daydreamed about walking along a river, about playing in a field, climbing a tree, dancing underneath the stars, and in every daydream, I saw Nick, with his blue riding cape, right there beside me. Mother would be horrified.

As I sang to the birds, I added words to the melody.

All the stories of my life, always true, always real, yet your stories were just, just stories.

The more time I spent with him, the more charming and sweet I thought him. The more wonderful he seemed, the less I believed in Mother’s warnings. I did not know what experiences Mother had, but surely even she would see how wonderful Nick was?

Eventually, I noticed that half the morning had been spent in contemplation of my latest gift and, sighing, I forced myself to continue working on my dress. With every piece I completed, I felt the approach of Mother’s return and the end of my time with Nick. So even more than before, I found myself anticipating his next arrival. Any unusual sound in the woods had me running to the window. I strained to listen, hoping in vain for the door in the wall to squeak.

A part of me felt quite silly, but I could not help myself. I would tell myself, this time, I would not jump at each tiny sound, but I would hear something, and be back at the window looking for signs of Nick with no recollection of moving.

About ready to believe he was not coming, I finally heard the gate open. I darted to the window to see Nick standing at the foot of the tower.

“Rapunzel, Rapunzel, let down your hair, so I may ascend thy golden stair.”

Giggling, I threw my braids out for him, even before he had finished his call. I braced myself on the sill and his quick ascent fascinated me. Before I realized it, he was pulling himself in the window.

“We must get you a ladder of some sort,” he said.

I balked. “A ladder? Surly it would be too readily found.” How could Mother miss a huge ladder lying in the garden?

“A rope then,” Nick said as he stood in the room.

I led him to the table and chairs where Mother and I usually ate, and he took a seat.

I joined him at the table. “Would you care for something to drink?”

“That would be wonderful.” He slouched in the chair, looking like he had not slept well.

“Are you well?”

He nodded. “I am fine, just tired today.”

“Perhaps some tea will help,” I said as I stepped into the storeroom to get the tea mixtures. For a moment, I perused the collections of herbs, debating which one would be best for Nick. One particular jar stood out–Mother’s special herb mixture, the one she drank when she came home. It always seemed to put her in better spirits and had a soothing aroma. I took the herbs and tipped them into the warm water, letting them infuse it with their sweet flavor.

Nick remained slumped in the chair, rubbing his face, though he sat straighter and smiled as I joined him. As I sat, I flicked my braids, the thump in the room invading the quiet. Even the birds and bugs outside seemed to have little desire to interrupt our evening.

Neither of us said anything at first, and I was not sure what I should say as I waited for the tea to steep, but Nick broke the silence.

“I have not been sleeping well. I apologize.” He rubbed his brow, running his fingers through his dark hair.

“It is quite all right,” I replied, pouring the now ready tea into our cups. “I appreciate you taking the time to come.”

He sipped his tea. “What is in this?”

“It is one of Mother’s favorite tea blends. It soothes her after a long trip.” Even I was not quite sure what was in the tea mixture, for the chopped and ground herbs were unidentifiable to me and kept in unmarked jars in her cabinet. “She prepares the herbs for it regularly, and keeps it stocked for when it is needed.”

“Do you drink it as well?” He took another sip. “It is quite tasty.”

“Not very often, only if I feel down or overly tired.” I sipped from my cup.

A bit of a smile slipped over his features. “Well, I appreciate you sharing it with me. Do you often feel down?”

I shook my head. “Not too often, I am usually able to keep myself entertained.”

“What does your mother do, if I may ask?”

I smiled. “Of course you may. She is a healer. She travels to the different provinces and sells her potions to help those who need them.”

“I have not heard of any illnesses plaguing any townships anywhere.”

“Then she is doing her task well. Most of her potions are to better the health. She has teas that will cure a chronic cough. She has herbs to heal stomach issues. I think she even has potions to help women who cannot conceive.”

His eyebrows went up. “That is an impressive number of ailments she can assist with.”

“There is not much Mother cannot heal, if properly motivated.” I sipped my tea.

“Motivated?” Nick asked.

I shrugged. “She requires payment for her work, as anyone else would. It is expensive to raise a child.”

“That is true.” Lost in thought, he did not say anything for a few moments. Then he glanced around the room, his gaze resting on the pieces of fabric. “Your dress is coming along.”

The pieces of my dress hung on the far wall, each section pinned where it would go when finished.

“Mother wanted me to make a nice dress.”

“Are you going somewhere?”

“I know not,” I replied. “Mother merely said it was to be ready when she returned from her trip, when she brings my birthday present.”

“Yes, your birthday is coming soon, is it not?” A warm smile filled his face, and his eyes began to sparkle again.

“Thirteen days,” I replied, smiling.

“You are excited?”

“Of course. So rarely do I get to celebrate and if I need a special dress, I must imagine my present is very special.”

“Then it probably is.”

We continued to speak of simple, mundane things, and Nick continued to make me smile. Happiness flooded me, brewing a melody for me to sing. I had been thinking on it these past few days. I wished to repay him in some small way for all he had given me, and this was all I could think to do in return.

I stepped to the center of the room and flipped my hair out of the way.

I cleared my throat and folded my hands together to stop them from shaking. “I thought I might sing for you tonight,” I said. “You have given me such wonderful gifts. I wanted to do something for you.”

His eyes sparkled. “I would love to hear you sing.” He shifted his chair so he faced me. “What will you sing for me?”

“A story,” I replied, starting to hum. A song I had been thinking about all day began to spill from me, long and lyrical words about a princess who lost her crown near a stream and was saved by a frog.

Nick listened, smiling as I sang, and when I finished he applauded.

“Wonderful. Your voice is so lovely. And what an amazing story.”

I smiled. “I cannot take credit for the story, for it was one Mother told me when I was little.”

“Do you think the princess ever appreciated the frog?” he asked as I seated myself at the table.

“I asked Mother, and she said people see only what they want to see. They never look for what lies beneath, and so many wars are fought because of it.”

Nick nodded. “Greed is a powerful motivator.”

I smiled. “Mother has always been very stern about me appreciating what I have, and never taking anything for granted, because assuming I deserved something was the quickest way to lose it.”

“That is very true. I have seen many men take and take, have everything, and still only hunger for more.” Nick slid his teacup around on the table for a moment then glanced at me. “What other secret talents do you have?” he asked, the timbre of his voice shifting.

“None, I am afraid. I am a foolish girl who knows very little about the world.”

“You are not foolish, Rapunzel.” His voice was low and I felt the tones all the way to my belly.

“But I am,” I whispered. “I cannot do very many things. I have no skills, except the little she has taught me, but even that I do not know well. Why, even with all the herbs in her cabinet, I can never remember which ones do what.” I had studied, and Mother had given me lessons, but alas, I could never remember all their uses and mixes. Yet another failing of mine.

“So you are not to be a healer like her. You have other talents.”

I shook my head. “I truly do not. I would not even know how to survive outside this tower. I am fortunate Mother knows how things are and can protect me from the evils of the world.”

Nick reached across the table and took my hand. “Please listen to me, Rapunzel. You are a lovely woman who is charming and sweet and honest. You take care of yourself most days, with no one to look in on you. I believe you would be fine in the outside world, without any help from anyone.”

I blushed, staring at our joined fingers. How much darker his were–mine looked pale and weak compared to the strength in his. “I thank you for that, but I know myself, and I would not be of much use to anyone.”

His grip tightened, pulling my arm across the table, and it sent a shiver through my body. “You have already proven you know how to take care of yourself. There are half a dozen women at my castle right now that would not know how to dress themselves if they did not have help.”

I smiled. This was surely a story meant to make me feel better. “As if getting dressed is difficult.”

“You would think it was the worst chore in the day, to hear them speak of it.” He squeezed my fingers and I marveled at how much smaller my hands were than his, how his practically swallowed mine. It felt strange indeed to touch him so intimately, but I did not want to let go. The feel of his hand on mine was as alive as a bird’s song, or as a bright ray of sunlight after a cold storm. It was a warmth I felt all the way to my toes, and even they curled when he stroked the back of my hand with his thumb.

Nick’s eyes had darkened to something much different. Neither of us moved. His lips were slightly parted, full and red, and I wondered what they tasted like. My thoughts made me blush and I looked down, suddenly taking a great deal of interest in my teacup.

Nick released my hand. “I need to go. It is getting late and I must return home before I am missed.”

“Of course.” I stood but there was a definite wobble in my knees and I hoped I did not tumble.

He smiled at me, his blue eyes twinkling. “If I had my way I would be here with you and not there with,” he let out a sigh, “them.”