Rapunzel (Faerie Tale Collection) (6 page)

Wincing she bit her lip. It was time to finish it.

Taking a deep breath, Rapunzel closed her eyes and heaved, attempting to gain the courage she needed to do this. It was over. This was the only way out of here. She would never see her family or dear Jonathan again. He would have found her by now if he were still alive, she was certain. It was all finally over. It was time to join them all.

Nausea overcame her as she looked down upon her arm, with the sharp porcelain still clutched in her hand and protruding from her flesh. The pain was unbearable and the blood so sickening. Could she do this?

Just then, she caught a winking flash of gold in the setting sun. It was peeking out from beneath her dress.

She blinked and swallowed attempting to keep the fading lightheadedness away. The gold winked again. What was that?

And then she knew.

The necklace. The Balligryn pendant! Jonathan needed it or he could not become king.

As if by a miracle, the strangest thought occurred. What if she were wrong? What if he was still alive and looking for her? And when he finally found the tower, Rapunzel would be dead and the witch would have his pendant!

Jonathan would never give up on her. If there was breath in his body, he would not give up on her.

She gasped then, inhaling huge, sharp, forceful breaths, as if she were truly taking her first real breaths of life. My great heavens! What was she doing?

Snapping fully out of the fog of weight surrounding her, she removed the bloody shard from her arm and quickly closed the wound over with the skirt of her gown.

Her breathing was so labored and loud as the shock of all she was about to do consumed her that she could not believe she had allowed herself to come to such a state. She, the most happy of all the princesses the castle had ever known, had allowed moroseness to consume her, consume her to the point that she nearly took her life!

What a fool she had become. What an utter, complete, wretched fool.

And then she began to sob.

Big, heart-wrenching sobs.

Sobs of relief. And sobs of disbelief. But mostly sobs over how alone and distanced from everything and everyone she felt. Slowly, the ebbing heaviness faded. There was a hollow in her heart—still that vicious ache—but the pain was replaced with a sliver of hope.

A small sliver that did not grow overly large, but kept the worst of her thoughts at bay. For now she was alive. Now she had a second chance to continue forth and stay above her darkest moments.

And soon she realized that when one was truly trapped as she was, that was the best anyone could expect her to do. Just stay a small step ahead of the gloom.

HOURS LATER, IN THE dead of the night, Rapunzel was awakened by the lantern being lit. A few seconds after opening her eyes, she saw a large ball of fur land upon her bed.

“Here,” said Lady Vactryne. “Hopefully he will help you enjoy your stay a bit more.”

The ball unfolded itself to reveal a cat. A very frightened cat. It curled back and hissed at her before scurrying off the bed to hide.

The witch laughed and then pointed to the food on the bed. “You had better clean that before I return tomorrow.”

Rapunzel had a brief moment of panic as she spotted blood on the multi-colored coverlet. She quickly tucked her wrapped arm underneath her, but the woman did not seem to notice at all. Instead, she glanced around the room and shrugged.

“Or, if you do not like the feline, and find that breaking my dishes is more to your liking, I suppose you can simply mope around here longer. The choice is yours, Princess. I really cannot control how you feel in this place. I can only see that you are taken care of.” She flipped her hand. “Good night. And you are welcome.”

“Th—thank you for the cat,” Rapunzel said weakly, not sure the creature was any more thrilled to be captured and placed here than she was.

With that, Lady Vactryne was gone.

RAPUNZEL GOT OFF THE bed and walked to the washbasin, dragging the heavy chains with her. The cold water stung her arm as she cleaned the gaping wound as best she could. Another bout of nausea and lightheadedness overwhelmed her for a moment. She clutched the small table for balance as she became woozy. It took several moments before she felt strong enough to stand again. Then, ripping the washing towel into strips, she wrapped her arm much more securely and tied the bandage off with a knot. She washed her face and hands and neck as best she could and put on a new long-sleeved gown to hide her stupidity.

She was not certain what the witch would do if she ever found out about Rapunzel’s foolishness, but she clearly did not ever wish her to know. After changing into the fresh gown, even though the heaviness in her chest was all consuming, she did feel a bit better. And hungry.

Within minutes, the girl had eaten up some fruit she had found in a basket and bread the witch had brought earlier. Upon her last swallow, she was reminded again that her own parents would never eat like this and simply allowed the ache to continue as she cleaned up the broken shards and mess of food on her bed, floor, and a bit on her wall before she curled up on the covers and drifted off to sleep.

“MEE-OWRR,” CAME THE SOFT sound below her.

Rapunzel opened her wet eyes and peered over the edge of the bed. There was the cat. She smiled as the little guy began to lick his paw. It had already been three weeks since Lady Vactryne gave her the stubborn animal. Three whole weeks, and his own nonchalance and ignorance of her as a companion did nothing to squelch the ache she felt within her. In fact, he seemed to make it worse. However, each day she did try to get him to accept her.

“Well, hello there. Have you finally decided to awake from your nap and grace me with your presence?”

“Mrrow,” he replied while continuing to make himself look presentable.

“You are a horrid cat—you know that, do you not? Always sleeping, never allowing me to cuddle you or hold you or do anything like a proper pet would.”

He ignored her.

She sighed and closed her eyes again. Her heart was too heavy to care about anything but her own misery anyway. It had been too long.

No one cares if you are alive anyway. No one has come for you. No one has found you. It is over.

The tears came again. As they always did when she got this way.

Eventually, she cried herself to sleep.

But this time when she awoke, the soft taste of fur was in her mouth. She pushed the silly cat away from her face, spitting as she did so, before realizing he was actually on her chest. Asleep. He had come to cuddle with her! Maybe the pompous thing cared more than he let on. Quickly, she scooped him up closer, not caring if the fur assaulted her again. And despite his mew of protest, he did not abandon her as she thought. Instead, he curled up tighter and purred quietly against her cheek.

Rapunzel smiled.

Later that week, she was rereading some of Jonathan’s letters, attempting to focus on the happier ones where he described his life and friends there at school. She loved his humor and the silly little things he found to share with her in their correspondence. How she missed him—his smile, his laugh, his torturously fun teasing. Even his handwriting, those bold, slanted strokes, was adorable and so very missed without new letters coming in.

She rolled over upon her bed and closed her eyes, attempting to imagine what he would look like today. There were small fissures of remembrance that would flash in memory of him, but to combine what he once was with what she could imagine now was nearly impossible. Would he still laugh the same? Still have that adorable crooked grin? Still taunt her?

The last letter she received from him just before her birthday definitely hinted at the boy she once knew. She grinned at the promises he made for the ball and the surprise he had hoped to give for her birthday.

And then for no reason at all, she began to feel sad again. Just when she believed she had found a nice mental place to stay for a bit, then came the agony of knowing she might never see him or anyone ever again.

Rapunzel curled back upon her bed and wept and wept and wept. She even cried as the cat snuggled against her and wrapped its long, furry tail around her neck as a sort of hug. He must have known she needed him because he allowed her to wrap her arms around him and sob into the pillow with him pressed up against her. He even remained that way for several minutes until she eventually calmed down enough to sleep.

A few days later, the cat jumped on the balcony ledge and gingerly picked his way up to her, his tail swishing in her face as he ducked under her arm and against her chest.

“Well, hello there. Did you miss me?” Rapunzel chuckled and rubbed the stubborn beast behind his ears. He instantly began to purr.

She grinned. “I am so glad you have decided to like me. It is much better this way.”

His response was to butt her hand with his head, asking for more.

“You know, I think I should come up with a name for you. Would you like that?” When he did nothing but enjoy her scratches, she continued, “How about something very robust and manly sounding, like Albert, perhaps?” She pulled back and asked again. “Albert. Do you like that name?” He stretched under her hand again, so she kept scratching. “Very well, not Albert. How about Shadow, or Midnight, or Hercules?”

Hercules. She liked that one.

“Never mind. I have decided not to give you an option. Your name shall be Hercules whether you like it or not.”

He arched his neck to make sure she scratched him there as well.

“You greedy little thing.” She continued to pet him for some time and then said, “You remind me of one of the stories I read in the witch’s book about a greedy prince who turned himself into a frog. Perhaps I should call you Nolan instead.” All at once, she began to hum a little ditty, a children’s rhyme she had learned ages ago from her nurse. After a few measures, it was quite easy to replace the actual words with new ones about the frog prince.

So she humored herself by petting the cat and creating her own lines to the old song.

“Prince Nolan wasn’t very bright,

He made himself an ugly sight

To show that his betrothed

Was just as awful as he had supposed.

But when he met the princess fair,

His larks proved him the worst there.

For Blythe was lovely to behold

And the opposite of what he’d been told.

He hopped around in his sorry state

Falling in love and mourning his fate.

He didn’t deserve a treasure as this,

But to break the spell, he needed a kiss.”

She was just getting ready to come up with another verse when some birds began to chirp with her, and so she sang the first three lines louder than before and then found herself giggling like a loon at the oddity of the situation. Almost as if she was happy. As if something wonderful was about to happen.