Page 29 of Down from the Tower

“Where did you happen across that,” Midas breathes, a hunger entering his gaze that I’ve never seen before. He values gold, gems and alliances. He doesn’t care about literature, and he certainly never stares at a worn out book like a trophy. He shifts away from the head of the table, circling around to our side. I’m sitting far too close to Modred now for my liking, and I don’t want to end up in the middle of something. “How did you get that?”

“Mad Queen isn’t watching her trophy room like she should,” Modred says, looking around the room. Arthur’s lost the color in his cheeks, making him look a little ill. “I simply opened the case and took it.”

“He stole from the Mad Queen,” Zarev breathes, sounding stunned. Just like before, no one hears him but me, and I watch his red-orange eyes flash in the lights of the dining room. “Impossible.”

I may not know what’s so important about a book I’ve never heard of, but everyone in this room is painfully focused on it. Modred just became the most important person here.

Midas scoffs, drawing my gaze from Zarev. “You want my daughter's magic in exchange for the book?”

Modred laughs, gesturing to Arthur. “He didn’t want me to bring it, but how could I pass up the chance to meet the Golden Princess?” He turns his gaze on me, eyes darkening in a creepy way. “Beautiful, I would be honored to receive some of your magic in exchange for this little book.”

His voice cascades over me like mud, leaving an icky feeling behind. I’ve only just met Modred and I do not like him.

“Be careful calling her anything but Princess,” Midas reminds him. “Rapunzel, give him a taste of your magic.”

My eyes widen. We never do this in the dining room where so many people can watch. The parlor is more secluded and creates less of a spectacle if something goes wrong. “Father-”

“Your majesty,” he barks in correction, brushing past me to meet Modred. “Listen and do as you’re told, Princess.”

“Don’t give him your magic,” Zarev contradicts, and I shoot him a glare. He’s too close again, making me look like the mad one as I glare at nothing.

“Rapunzel, now,” Midas snaps, holding out his normal hand towards Midas. “Give me the book.”

“Get your daughter to work her magic on me.”

“Modred,” Arthur growls.

Shaking my head, I eye Zarev again. He’s shaking his head in return, clearly against this, but I really want to see what’s so important about the book. It’s not as though I haven’t used my magic hundreds of times before.

Schooling my features, I decide to play along. I need answers. “Of course, your majesty.”

As soon as I’m within reach, Modred gets antsy. He reaches out to tug at my hair, making me wince as he pulls bits of my hair loose from the intricate braid. I don’t think there was a plan to use my gift tonight or mother wouldn’t have sent for Priscilla to do the fancy braids. In the blink of an eye, Zarev appears just behind his shoulder.

My breath catches. What’s he playing at?

Zarev lifts a hand, and the scythe I haven’t seen used much vanishes from across his back and appears in his grip. It looks as though he plans to cleave his head straight off, but instead he lowers the sickled blade until it brushes Modred’s neck. A gasp escapes Modred’s lips and he spins around, letting go of my hair.

Retracting the blade just as quickly, Zarev steps back when Modred reaches out, his hand sailing harmlessly through the man of shadows.

I’m mesmerized by how bizarre it is to watch Zarev play with people like that. He did it to Dorah, and now he’s taunting Modred.

“What…” Modred’s voice tapers off, and he turns back to me again. All eyes stay on us. “Did you do something, Princess?”

“She hasn’t gotten to the magic yet,” Dorah interrupts, but I don’t turn around to see what her face gives away. “Rapunzel, stop messing around.”

I school my features, but cursing Zarev is high on my to-do list when we aren’t trapped in this room. He scowls, watching as I tug the braids apart, ignoring the sadness that washes over me as the flowers and little embellishments fall to the floor. It was nice to be beautiful for a while, but nothing will keep Midas from using my powers to his own needs.

I bind Modred in my hair the same way I’ve done to so many of my father's allies in the past. He’s more impatient than some, twitching whenever I move around, and his hands can’t settle as he watches me. He gulps down another half glass of burgundy wine while I prep.

Zarev is still behind him, and as I work he glares murderously into Modred’s back. He truly doesn’t want me to use my gift this bad? I look down when I speak, closing my eyes to escape all the looks I’m receiving right now. I don’t care if Modred, Zarev, or anyone else sees down the ridiculous bodice of this dress, I just don’t want to see the gleaming eyes judging me.

This is the only thing I’m good for. As much as it makes me hate myself for giving in, I close my eyes and accept that this is something I’m going to do.

I blow out a breath before reciting the words I know by heart. “Of the gift of life, I reject your death. Of the burden of age, I banish time. Of the curse of passing, I tether your soul here another year longer.”

The words flow freely, and usually people take a moment to breathe in the life I give to them. It’s different for each person, but if he’s anything like Arthur -

I yelp, eyes flying open when his hands clamp over my forearms, so instead of stepping back I’m drawn in closer. “More.”

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