Page 2 of Rapunzel's Gambit (All That Glitters)

Father shot me a withering stare. “You sent out an official decree on my personal letterhead that all nobility needed to present a poem praising my accomplishments before being allowed entry to the throne room.”

“That wasn’t harmful. That was just funny.”

“You wrote insults on Lord Morvain’s banner celebrating his twenty years of service to the crown.”

“Those were all true statements.”

One of his eyebrows arched up the same way mine did. “Not to mention how many men you’ve kissed just to humiliate me. Everyone has been saying I can’t control my own daughter.”

I rolled my eyes and crossed my arms. “Oh dear,” I drawled. “What an appalling tragedy that is. We can’t have anyone thinking I have my own free will now, can we? Best slap me in chains now so you can control me better. Perhaps it would be best if you lead me around like a dog on a leash. Should I wear a collar?”

“Rapunzel!”

“It’s still different. What you did isn’t some harmless prank; these arelivesat stake. It’s my future, and it is the lives of all those men. They’ll die trying to defeat a dragon; you know it, and if one doesn’t, then I’ll be forced to marry?—”

“Don’t worry,” Father interrupted with a chuckle. “It isn’t like any of them will succeed. And besides, how will we know if they don’t try?”

The weight of his words crashed into me.It isn’t like any of them will succeed? Father anticipated them all failing. He expected them to try and to be killed in the attempt, and to what end—to deflect some of the anger that they felt toward him? To prove that he was just as despicable a ruler as they believed him to be? To thin out those who might vie for the throne? He was willing to send his subjects on a suicide mission just to pretend like he was doing something to help them.

Father watched me through narrowed eyes. “You’ve forced my hand.”

“So you’re auctioning off mine? Pray tell, how did I force you to send dozens of men to their deaths?”

“You’ve offended so many of the surrounding kingdoms that I need to dosomethingto regain their favor. The dragon’s lair is near the border of many kingdoms; this will benefit everyone.”

I met his glare with one of my own. “Except those you send to be slaughtered.”

“The lives of a few are a small price to pay if it stops the dragon stealing livestock.”

“It’s not too small a price if you’re the one who’s being sacrificed. Livestock isn’t the same as human life.”

“They signed up. They all volunteered. I’m not forcing anyone to do anything. Besides, if theydosucceed, they will be the future queen’s consort. A fine deal, if you ask me.”

“Ididn’task you, and you certainly never asked me my thoughts about you deciding my future for me.”

“Your future was decided for you when you were born,” he said dismissively.

I sank back into the plush velvet seat of the carriage. What sort of reality was he living in which he could discard the lives of his citizens so easily? Did he think that the blood of his extensively trained knights came cheaply? Did he think that, with a snap of his fingers, he could replace an army? He was so consumed by greed and selfishness that he had become impossible to reason with.

The landscape flashed by outside the window, from the blur of fields of crops withered by the brutal sun to the craggy mountains pitted with caves.

No amount of glaring could ever convey the depth of deep-seated resentment and hostility I felt toward my father. We trundled past an orphanage, where children with sunken, hungry faces wearing heavily patched clothing stared with open mouths at the carriage whisking by.

“Why are you not sending more aid to the people? They’re struggling and you know it.”

Father stroked his bearded chin, averting his eyes from the orphans to stare out the opposite window. “You’ll see in time, Rapunzel. Peasants often bring about their own misfortunes. They resent paying the required taxes that pay for the military who protect them and the roads that they use, then they spend time griping about it, and because they wasted their time complaining, they consequently have less time to work, earn less because of their laziness, and then spend even more time sitting around blaming us for all the shortages they experience. It’s a vicious cycle. We mustn’t reward them for their lack of effort.”

I shivered slightly as I frowned at him. Had his disdain for the people always been so apparent, or was it only becoming evident as I grew old enough to accept more of the responsibilities of ruling? What had happened to the caring man who used to read me stories when I was a child?

“When was the last time you talked with the people?”

Father raised an eyebrow as if he questioned my sanity. “Just today. You heard me speak to them.”

“No, you talkedatthem. When did you last listen to their concerns and ask for their input?”

Father shook his head, still stroking his pointed beard. “Royalty cannot afford such things. It would be a risk to my personal safety, and besides, peasants only know their small corner of the world. Imagine taking advice from someone who knows nothing of operating a kingdom. They know nothing about tariffs or foreign diplomacy or domestic affairs. They know their trades, and their responsibility to the kingdom is to perform their trade well.”

Father was an intelligent man. He could do complicated arithmetic inside his head and quote lengthy passages of great works of literature, but he hadn’t been a wise or compassionate king. The people truly hated him, but it didn’t bother him one bit. It hadn’t troubled me when I was young enough not to know better, but it did now.

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