Rescuing Rapunzel (16 page)

It seemed a long time before the tears were spent, and even then he stayed beside me. He sat on the floor in silence, arms around me, waiting for me to calm.

“I know this is not something you ever imagined,” he whispered, placing a kiss on my head.

“No,” I said.

Never in all the years of suffering, in all the years of waiting for Mother to love me, had it occurred to me that I was not her daughter at all.

“I am not her daughter,” I said.

“No,” he said. “You are not. You are free of her.”

Free.

Free as the birds wallowing in the bright blue sky. Free as the lightning bugs that danced outside my window. For a moment, the thought lifted my heart but then I realized I had no idea how to find that freedom. What to do with it once I did. For that matter, it occurred to me now that I had no idea who I was.

“I am not Rapunzel.” I twisted in his arms to look into his eyes. “Do I have a name?”

Nick smiled. “Katherina. Your name is Katherina.”

I took the name in, letting it roll around in my mind. “Katherina,” I said, testing the word on my tongue.

He smiled, stroking my nose. “You will always be Tressey to me.”

That made me smile. A nightingale sang outside the window, and the night did not look quite so dark.

Chapter 24

Nick sat at his desk, attempting to focus on the paperwork he had promised to have ready this week. He had been reading the same line for the last fifteen minutes. No matter how he tried to put her out of his thoughts, Rapunzel lingered. The wind slid in through his window, and he smelled the floral scent that always seemed to fill her tower.

He tried to think of the provisions he needed to order for his tenants before planting. Instead, he thought of long golden hair. The way she had reached back and swept it over her shoulder, baring her neck to him. The smooth expanse of her skin. How soft it had felt under his fingers.

He shook his head, grinning at himself–he was not going to get anything productive done today. He pushed the ledgers away. Grabbing a cup from his desk, Nick took a long tug, hoping to find some answer to his dilemma. While he knew Rapunzel now believed him, he had yet to get her to commit to leaving the tower. It had not felt right to bring it up last night while she was so upset and struggling with what he had told her.

Now, there was no more time to waste. Her birthday was in two days and then Gothel would be back. He would go to the tower tonight, convince her to leave. Somehow.

Nick stood and folded his ledgers, tucking them on the shelf, when there was a knock at the door.

“Come,” he said, without turning.

When he looked around, the blacksmith stood in the doorway with a bundle in his hand. “My lord, I apologize for bothering ye.”

“You are fine, sir. Come in.” He gestured at the bundle. “Is that my present?” Nick could not help grinning.

The blacksmith nodded. “Just finished it.” He set the bundle on the table and opened it. Inside, the gift was far lovelier than Nick had imagined. “Had a dickens of a time trying to get all the parts to work.” The blacksmith opened the lid.

Music began to tinkle in the air. Nick carefully raised and lowered the lid, making the music stop and start. He tipped it to the side, sliding the drawer in the front of the box out.

“This is exquisite,” he said. “You have done a masterful job, sir.”

The blacksmith grinned. “Here is the crank for it.” He pointed to the small knob at the back of the box. It hardly stood out amidst all the ornate detailing in the wood. Metal trim framed the box with elaborate patterns, and even the little nails holding down the trim were pleasing to the eye.

“She will love it,” Nick said. He held out his hand, and the blacksmith shook it. “It is wonderful. You have done a marvelous job.” He reached into one of the desk drawers and pulled out the bag of coin he had set aside for the box. “Is the price the same as we discussed?”

The blacksmith nodded.

“Good,” Nick said, tossing him the bag. “And for your speed, sir.” He handed him another bundle of coins.

“I thank ye, my lord.” The man grinned. “If ye need anything else, my lord, please do not hesitate.”

Nick grinned. “I may just do that. I might be needing jewelry soon.”

“As ye need, my lord.” The blacksmith smiled and ducked his head as he left. Nick picked up the box, wrapping it back in its linen.

Rapunzel’s birthday present was ready. He needed to take it to her.

Chapter 25

From where I lay in bed, I could see the moon hanging low in the sky, crouched over the horizon as if making ready for its race with the sun. Which meant the torment of the day had passed. Finally passed. I had not been able to force myself from the bed that morning and had spent the entire day curled there, running the end of my braid through my hand.
 

My birthday was in two days, which meant Mother…Gothel would be returning soon. Unlike any of her other trips, I knew that, this time, she would not be late. I could almost feel her coming back, like the change in the air before a storm.

I still felt sick to my stomach thinking of what Mother…what Gothel had done. She was no more my mother than the wind. I wished I could believe love or desperation had driven her to such lengths, but it could not be so. M…Gothel had never shown me warmth or affection, never acted like I was anything other than a burden.

The night crept upon me, more imposing than it usually seemed, and I turned from my window, no longer willing to brave the dark. Something was coming. I could feel it in the air, and it gave me chills. I forced the thoughts back, afraid suddenly for Nick–what if something happened to him?

It did not stand thinking about. I could not bear his loss on top of all the others. He had come to me when I was lonely and been my friend. He had woken me from a nightmare I had believed real. I ran my fingertips softly over my shoulder and, for a moment, was trapped in the memories of his touch. Heat rushed through me until I felt my skin would burst into flame. Still, I could not keep from reaching around my body to touch the mark.

It was the proof of my identity. That I was not Gothel’s child, but a missing daughter. My birthday was no longer a day of even meager celebration, for it was the day I was stolen from my proper family.

What would they be like? Would I resemble them? Would they believe that their missing child had been found? I found it beautiful, sad but beautiful, that they had never given up and had continued to look for their child for so long. I could not imagine such determination, such hope.

Hope. Something I rarely had. Now it seemed so possible and so abundant, I knew not what to do with it. I could not read the letter Nick had left. Not all of it, in any case. But I had seen the last few lines.

From our hearts to yours, we thank you, Nicolas.

For you continue to bring us hope.

Perhaps someday, we all will find what we seek.

Hope seemed something that Duchess von Stroebel had never lost. I wished to find her, if only to hug her and thank her for never giving up on her stolen daughter. It was still hard to sew the pieces together. Rapunzel with Katherina. A burdensome, foolish female, with a longed-for, sought-after daughter. I tucked the letter into my pillow with Nick’s other letters.

Nick…

He had promised to return today. I hoped he came soon, for I truly did wish to see him. My thoughts were so patchy and loose, maybe he could help me pin them down again. Or at least distract me.

He could touch my arm, as he had before. Run his fingertips so softly over the skin there. Maybe even kiss me…

I let out a giggle, thinking about the feel of his lips against mine. It seemed an eternity since he had kissed me. Another lifetime ago, when I was still Gothel’s daughter…

I growled and got off my bed, pacing around my room.

“This is ludicrous,” I muttered.
 

I tugged at my braids and noticed they were beginning to unravel. Tufts poked out along the lengths. They needed to be rebraided very badly. If Gothel returned and my braids looked so terrible, she would immediately wonder what I had been doing all this time and I did not wish to arouse her suspicion.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, I grabbed the bottom of the plaits and unfastened them. Carefully, I combed out the ends, slowly working my way up the strands.

I had not made much progress, when I heard Nick’s call.

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

I ran to the window, stumbling over my braid and thumping into the windowsill. Nick stood below, his blue riding cloak shining in the moonlight.

I smiled at him, and threw my braids over the sill. Bracing myself on the window, I watched him. For a moment, he stroked the loose ends where they brushed the ground, then began his ascent. He looked strange today–like his cape had bunched on his back.

“Are you all right?” I asked as he climbed.

“Could not be better, Tressey,” he said, glancing at me. “Your hair is unbraided at the bottom.”

I smiled. “I know. It is braiding day.”

Nick reached the top and eased through the window, holding my hand for balance. “The ends are most lovely,” he said, kissing the back of my hand. Goose bumps rose all over my body.

My cheeks burned and I bowed my head. “Thank you.”

He reached for me, stroking the hair around my face. “So today is braiding day?”

“Yes,” I whispered.

He took no notice of my answer. Instead, he caressed my temple with a finger. “Hmm?” He let his finger wander down my cheek, sending shivers through me.

“Braiding day,” I murmured. “Every few days, I must undo, brush, and rebraid my hair.” Pulling away from him, I started bringing in the rope of hair, letting it pool on the floor between us.

He studied the pile. “It must take hours to rebraid all of this.”

I nodded as I dropped the last of the hair on the floor. “It is a process.”

He caressed my arm, sliding along to the exposed flesh just above my wrist. “Perhaps I can help you.”

I tugged my lower lip into my mouth, biting it. Nick’s eyes did not move from my mouth as my lip slid back out, sending ripples through my body.

“It is a difficult task,” I managed.

His eyebrow rose. “I am ready for the challenge.”

I was not certain he truly meant to help me with my hair. He ran his hands over the braids, separating the ends I had already unfastened. He followed the soft S shape of the braid like a caress.

I could hardly move as he touched my hair–it was so intimate yet also strangely matter-of-fact.

“Tressey,” he murmured, stroking apart the braid.

“Yes?”

“Where is your brush?”

It broke my fascination, and I retrieved a couple of my brushes from my dresser.

“Before we start,” Nick said. “I have something for you.”

I blinked. “Oh?” Only then did I realize he had not taken off his cloak. When he unfastened it, I saw what looked like rope strapped to his shoulders.

“What is that?”

“This,” he said, untying the rope, “is your birthday present.”

He handed me a bundle of linen wrapped around something hard and square. Taking it to the bed, I settled onto the mattress to open it. I was so excited to see what he had brought me I could not get the knots undone.

Nick sat next to me. “I see knots are a particular problem of yours,” he said with a smile.

“Oh hush, you.” I fiddled with the first one and was finally able to get it loose, then went to work on the second.

Nick tried to help, but I slapped his fingers away.

“You are just as eager as me,” I said with a grin.

“Of course I am.”

I got the second knot undone and unwrapped the fabric around the present. When I opened it to reveal the gift inside, I had to take a breath.

It was the most beautiful box I had ever seen. Carved of wood, it was encased in elaborate metal filigree that had been worked to look like angels and flowers. A delicate silver angel stretched wide wings over the front of the box like a crowning jewel. It was so exquisite I was almost afraid to touch it.

“If you…” Nick began.

“No, no,” I said. “Hush. Let me explore.”

Stroking the front, I felt the niche in the center. Hooking a finger into the groove, I pulled on it to reveal a drawer lined with green fabric, smooth and silky to the touch.

“This is lovely.”

I turned the box back and forth in my hands, admiring the intricate designs, when I noticed the faint line near its top.

“It opens here too?” I asked, my finger grazing the angel.

Nick nodded, a grin on his face.

I touched the angel–just enough to make a tiny popping sound as the latch released–and lifted the lid. A sweet, chiming music echoed through the tower. I did not recognize the tune, but liked it immediately. Inside the box were cunning nooks tucked next to the covered center–perfect for storing my treasures.