Page 17 of Down from the Tower

Unacceptable.

I grab Rapunzel’s arm, pulling hard to make her stumble from Dorah’s grasp. The hand flies uselessly through the air, throwing Dorah off balance so she stumbles a couple steps. Rapunzel shoots me a glare, but I can’t be bothered to watch her.

Wide-eyed, Dorah looks around. I’m not sure if she can really sense me, or if she just has a feeling something is wrong. Those cold eyes glare into me for a single moment before passing on, and I know without question that she has no idea that I’m here.

But Rapunzel does. And she looks terrified by the both of us, probably waiting to see who’s more dangerous.

Even if she fears her mother, the right answer is me.

Dorah tightens her hands, but she doesn’t try to strike Rapunzel again. Taking several breaths, she smoothes out her skirt. “You will drink the next batch I bring you. Do you know how difficult it is to brew that mix? I make the tea for you myself, as a labor of love. And you toss it on the floor?”

Rapunzel winces. “Mother-”

“None of that,” she chastises. “You won’t be seeing the sunshine anytime soon if you want to act out. You’ll be in here the next two nights without a maid. I won’t have Anastasia or Priscilla helping you for such bad behavior.”

Her punishment is to be even more alone. It’s not all that different from what she puts up with now, but I see her shoulders deflating anyway.

“Mother-”

“If you are required to meet with an audience during that time, then, and only then, will we send the maids to attend. Let this be a warning for your bad behavior, Rapunzel. Do you want to be even lonelier here in your tower?”

I almost feel bad for the princess. Her mother knows exactly how tortured she is by their chosen punishment, and she continues doing so anyway.

Rapunzel crosses her arms, ducking her head. “No, Mother.”

“Then use your solitude to think about your behavior. I’m not cleaning up the shards or the tea. Let it be a reminder of how fragile your freedom is.”

With that chilling reminder, Dorah gathers her skirts and stalks from the room. Rapunzel watches her leave, her cat darting into the room just before the doors bang shut again. They nearly close on his puffy, purple-pink tail.

When the locks click into place, she sinks down to her knees and presses her hands to the stone. “I hope you’re happy.”

5 Zarev

She’s spitting mad. Kneeling on the floor, I half expect her to break down crying. But instead she snaps her head upward, eyes wild with rage.

I quirk a brow, watching the torrent of emotions flash across her face. This is a different girl than a few days ago.

“You’ve gone and made her mad,” she says breathlessly, her eyes focused on nothing but me as she wipes her palms on her skirts and stands. “She’ll tell the King I’m not cooperating.”

“Sounds like she doesn’t want you to speak out, Princess.”

Rapunzel glares, before her hands reach up and begin to twist through her thick locks. “I don’t like to make the royals angry.”

Frowning, I pace in a semi circle around her. It puts me closer to her door, and although I can use the shadows to slide out the window since this door is sealed from floor to ceiling, I stay on that side of the room. Those tormented oceanic eyes track my movements, twisting her hair more and more until she’s holding giant fistfuls. “Nervous tic?”

She doesn’t follow what I’m saying until I nod to her hands. Scoffing, she shakes her head. “Hardly. My magic is a part of me. When I stress, the healing magic… helps.”

“And how does the daughter of a man of gold and a harpy turn out to have magic hair?”

Rapunzel shrugs. “Dorah isn’t a harpy, that’s a rumor. She simply acts like one. And Midas got his curse by asking the god Dionysus for the golden touch. I don’t know how that translates down the line to me.”

I frown. Dionysus, much like any of the gods and goddesses who no longer grace us with their presence, is a myth at best. “Is this well known around Tressa?”

“I have no idea. Can’t say I speak with the people very much.”

She has a point, and although I’ve heard plenty of rumors of a Golden King, I’ve never put much thought into his power. It’s something he now uses to torment, so I’m not all that interested in the origins most of the time. “Go on.”

Rapunzel has a touch of gold in her, but it doesn’t turn anyone into anything terrible. If anything, it does the opposite.

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