Page 78 of Down from the Tower

That was supposed to be my wedding, my place, my crown! If he only had boys, there would be hope that one of my girls could marry into the throne. But now he’s focused on those two screaming babes, and I’ve been banished from the castle.

Banished. I went into the Red Woods! I collected the flowers and risked the travel back. I even spoke to King Arthur, and I lied to his face, I did! He asked if the flowers were important, and I lied and squished one beneath my boot to prove they were not. He left me alone after that, his soldiers walking past the fallen basket that held such prized possessions. They have no idea the gift that they gave up.

But my girls are still stuck in Tressa, and with the wall in my way I cannot just walk back into the kingdom. Camelot will be suspicious if I try to go there and sneak onto a ship, and I can’t show up looking haggard for the King. He’s got to remember how good I am.

Only I can take his love. Only I can ensnare him. And he threw me away, all because I’m not the mother of his girls.

“I don’t understand,” I whisper, barely registering the smell of something cooking. My eyes can’t lift from the paper.

“Rapunzel?”

I shake my head, glancing up at him. “Do you know who Lady Tremaine is?”

“No, I have no idea who that is. Is she in the letters?”

She is the letters. I drop my arms, glaring at the ground. The ramblings of some stranger shouldn’t affect me. They can’t affect me.

But her children, Anastasia and Priscilla, I know them. They’ve helped to care for me daily for years. Only a couple years separate us, and I can’t help wondering if they had any idea what their mother did with the King.

Surely they did. And if they weren’t aware as children, they had to have learned growing up. The castle doesn’t keep secrets from the staff, not juicy details like that at least. Maybe that’s why the sisters always hated me.

But… twins? Could I have a brother or sister someplace? It sounds insane, but I always assumed all the paintings on the wall were me because that made sense. With no other knowledge, it would be easy to disguise another among the decorations.

Zarev comes to sit beside me, and I thrust the letters into his hands. “I know where we need to go.”

We leave early the next morning. Sleeping on the ground isn’t something I missed, I think as I try to work the kinks from my joints. Thinking about where we need to go has me anxious and I wish I could work out my fear the way I do the soreness from my neck, back, and hips.

At this point I don’t know if I can face my parents ever again.

Zarev has read the letters, so he’s as up to date as I am. He doesn’t remember ever seeing this woman, though I cannot picture her either, so I have nothing to give him that would help. I do bring up the sisters, and he shrugs as we walk.

“They’re grumpy and unfriendly but most of the servants in Tressa seemed to be,” he tells me as we walk. We seem to be far enough away from the path the Flowerborne took, and even though I gave him a location, we’re taking our time. He claims to need all of his magic so we can shadow hop to The Barrens by nightfall, then cross in the morning. I think it would be easier to deal with during the night, but he’s adamant we won’t be crossing once the sun sets.

“Midas doesn’t have a lot of fans among the staff,” I agree.

“But those two sisters don’t stick out in particular,” he says with a shrug. “I did go and find some of the servants quarters, because staff often overhear things they shouldn't and gossip. When I wasn’t stalking your tower I hung out in the shadows down there. A lot of the staff fuck like rabbits.”

I shove him hard. “Stop that.”

He shrugs again. “Midas doesn’t provide much to do but work and think. Sex is a free pastime for the bored. The dark haired one-”

“Priscilla,” I supply.

“Yeah. She mostly slept with one guard. The other one-”

“Anastasia.”

He grunts. “She didn’t seem to sleep with anyone. She was mostly alone. They griped about you and the royals, but they didn’t seem hostile towards you. Priscilla rambled about killing Midas, but that seemed to be common among the staff. No one would be sad to see him overthrown.”

The words ring true in my ears, and my hand slides over my chest. If Midas is killed, Dorah would ascend the throne. If I were a son, they would have me rule in his place. But because Tressa is a land trapped in time, I would need to have a husband before anyone sees me as worthy to be Queen.

If I ever go back to Tressa, that’s the first thing I’m changing. After uncounted years of dictatorship, the people should at least be happy that I don’t have ideas to continue an evil rule. And I don’t need a man to support the ideas I already have.

Glancing at Zarev, an insane image pops into my head. A Reaper, the harbinger of Death, sitting on the golden throne beside me as we raise Tressa to a glory worth celebrating. I’d find a way to tear down the walls, and we could sit in the throne room and admire Sherwood Forest beyond our borders.

It’s an insane idea, one with too many holes to ever really happen. But for a moment, it’s fun to think about.

I doubt Zarev is the type who would want to marry into royalty. He already gets antsy staying in one place too long. He would be bound to Tressa, and that isn’t a role I see him agreeing to.

---