Page 99 of Down from the Tower

Dorah’s hair vanishes around the corner ahead, long locks flying in the air. She’s moving fast, and I hesitantly peek out to see if the sisters are gone.

For now, I seem to be lucky. I doubt it’ll hold out for long, so I cling to my cat, shut the door as fast as I can, and hurry down the hall after the Queen.

My heart is beating hard enough that Cheshie keeps trying to escape. But I want to make sure he runs the opposite way before I face her. I don’t know what’s going on in the castle, but I could hear the anger in her voice.

I shoo Cheshie away, who gives me a bored look and begins to lick his paws instead of going anywhere. I hurry him halfway down another hall and open a random door, setting him just inside. I want him to be safe and away from the rage of my parents, but the more time I waste the more likely it is that I'll be caught.

I can be more than my parents' pawn. I went on a journey, but I didn’t hone any skills, I just clumsily discovered them. I need months or years to explore all the things I’ve learned about myself but I got mere weeks instead. Half of that time was spent traveling from place to place or passing out because I didn’t know how to control my magic. I’m still not sure I do.

But there’s a chance at some point in time, I was meant to be with another like me. Someone who could understand the uncertainty that comes with this gift and questions their place in this world. A person I never knew about, a sister or brother who may not even exist anymore. One who was stolen from me and this kingdom. I try to focus on that point, remembering my anger and confusion when the pieces fell together. It could be a lie, but it correlates with the letters from Lady Tremaine and sounds like something shady my parents would do.

In my heart, I know that's why I stopped here first. Confronting Midas means fighting, screaming, war. I might be able to guilt Mother into telling me the truth if I push hard enough. She may be cold but Midas is all-controlling. I have the slimmest chance of getting through to her but once I see Midas, there’s no turning back.

Mother has gone inside her room, so I sneak in, hair held like a rope in case I need to… I don’t know. Kill the Queen? The answer seemed so simple when I was hurting back in the Red Woods, but now the lines seem to blur. I jumped into this without considering what my actions might mean.

“I’m not going down for this,” Dorah growls, pulling me from my thoughts. I shake my head, peering around as I stand in the entrance. There’s no light, but I can hear her voice carrying from someplace.

My parents' bedrooms are a mystery to me. I believe Midas keeps statues of his victims in his half, and Dorah’s is covered in celestial markings and star patterns, which throws me off.

She likes the sky?

“Where is it?”

I follow her voice, padding across the stone floor to the shared room they have. This is where I’ve sat a few times when there was reason to bring me here, usually to reprimand me. Their bedrooms are different from anything I remember. Thinking back, Dorah used to bring me in here for tea.

The tea that came from a replica of the Phoenix Roses in Legs’ garden. I don’t know how the tea worked, or what purpose it held, but the taste was almost identical to the one Legs served me.

But Mother had a meltdown when Zarev spilled the cup, and they couldn’t give me another drink before Arthur visited. If it wasn’t drugged or poisoned, why did Mother get so upset? It still doesn’t make sense to me.

Rounding the corner I find an open cabinet. Dorah’s mutterings drift from within, and when I glance around the open doors I find a short staircase. I definitely don’t ever recall seeing this. Taking a deep breath, I descend the steps, waiting to see something sinister. But when I round the corner, all I find is Dorah, kneeling as she flips through a book.

“There has to be a way,” she grumbles. “Where is it?”

I clear my throat, stepping into the room. Dorah’s head snaps around, her sharp eyes glaring into me as she looks up. “Looking for something, Mother?”

“Rapunzel,” she breathes, standing. The book stays open on the ground, the spine broken from use or old age. “We thought you were dead.”

I frown. A few weeks gone and they assumed I didn’t survive? People have gone through worse and survived for a longer time. “I notice you didn’t look for me.”

She shakes her head, the surprise morphing to annoyance. “This isn’t the time to get bratty with me. How did you get back here? We couldn’t find you anywhere in Tressa, even when we ripped apart the civilian homes. No one saw you on the docks, and I think we would’ve seen strands of golden hair in the water if you went that way.” She lifts her chin. “How did you get through the wall?”

“I went over it,” I admit, thinking of Zarev. I need to be careful so when this is over I can go back to him. Getting killed in Tressa means my time with my Reaper is finished. “And I learned that there’s a whole world out there, outside of Tressa.”

“Oh, Rapunzel,” she scoffs, crossing her arms. “You learned that the world is full of tragedy and danger. The people living beyond the wall struggle to survive and know nothing of the big picture. They fear the powerful and cower in the face of adversary. We never told you about the rest of the country because it wasn’t worth the trouble. You needn’t worry about something you would never see.”

“But I have seen,” I breathe, digging into the bag. I have Gothel’s letters, but if I show them to her she could easily destroy them, along with any evidence of what my parents have done. “I saw a great many places. Sherwood Forest, taverns, woods, and even a garden in the Red Woods.”

Her jaw falls open, and her eyes narrow. “The Red Woods?”

I nod. “I learned about all kinds of secrets out there. I even met a gardener in the Red Woods who recognized me.” I pull the pressed rose out of the bag, leaving behind the letters. “She showed me a beautiful garden where curious flowers grow. And there among all the plants was a large rose that looks like the prized one in our courtyard. I thought it was a coincidence, until I learned the name.”

Crushing the flower, I throw the dried petals on the floor. “A Phoenix Rose, Mother, really? Or should I even call you that?”

She bares her teeth at me. “Don’t even joke about that! I bore you for all those long months, unable to accept the touch of my beloved because the Golden Magic pulsed inside you, too. Having that golden connection was too strong, and we had to stay separate to keep your small body from seeking out the source of magic.”

I narrow my eyes. “Just me or another as well?”

Dorah’s lips twist to the side but her pretty bronzed skin turns ashen at the question. “What lies did you learn out there, girl? You think the outsiders speak kindly of the Golden Queen?”

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