Page 3 of Rapunzel's Gambit (All That Glitters)

I fidgeted with my handbag, opening and closing it again so my hands had something to do. “How can we rule the people if we do not truly know their circumstances?”

“I wouldn’t expect a young girl to understand the complexities of politics yet. This isn’t like one of your little chess games.” Father smiled indulgently at me, but a flame of hot anger leapt inside my chest. So, I was just a young girl who couldn’t understand anything? Was that why he offered my hand in marriage, because it was the only value he thought I held? I wasn’t going to stand for it. If only I could oust him from power and seize control of the kingdom now. I would be a better ruler than Father had been. But even so…he was still my father. I wouldn’t initiate a coup against him.

What benefit was there to being a princess if I was going to be auctioned off to some power-hungry knight who saw me as a tool to further his own position? Why would Iwantto rule if my people hated me for my whole life? If I ran away or refused to be married, I was sure to be seen as shirking my duty or selfishly putting my own happiness before that of the kingdom. If I stayed and ruled as Father had, I would be hated, just as he was. The only other option was to wait for the next forty to fifty years for Father to die so I could take over and rule the way I saw fit, but the notion of eagerly anticipating my own father’s death was repugnant.

No matter what, there was no way to win.

Before the carriage had come to a complete halt, I threw open the door and leapt down. The footman squeaked in alarm as I bypassed the stairs he normally unfastened for me. I stumbled upon landing and nearly dropped my handbag but hastened to right myself and stalk away.

“Rapunzel!” Father called after me, reproach in his voice.

I didn’t stop. I didn’t care if he wanted to talk to me or explain himself or if he was simply concerned about the servants realizing we had argued. If he refused to extend me any courtesy, I would do likewise. He didn’t deserve my respect or time when he clearly didn’t value it anyway.

“Rapunzel!” he shouted again. “Don’t forget about the ball tonight!”

There may as well have been a thundercloud hovering over my head as I stormed through the gardens. I glowered at the dragon sculptures sprinkled throughout the gardens, maws open wide and ruby eyes glittering in the bright afternoon sun. Dragons. Father blamed all his problems on the one near our kingdom’s border, but the people seemed much less concerned about the creature—and rightly so. It never troubled the citizens that I’d heard of, whereas Father’s gross negligence caused immense suffering.

I kicked morosely at a stone that skittered away down the garden path, then closed the distance to where it lay and kicked it again, even harder. It felt cathartic to transfer my frustration into something else. It bounced against the marble fountain, and I raised my gaze to stare at the obstacle. Yet another dragon-related sculpture, this one a marble block shaped like a dragon spewing flame from the center of the fountain, with water pouring from its fanged mouth instead of fire. I stared into its jeweled eyes, which appeared alive as the light reflected off the gemstones. Fat fish swam lazily about in the pool beneath the dragon’s carved claws, unconcerned with anything as they drifted about in the pool’s glimmering depths.

As I lowered my hand to touch the water, they approached, eagerly searching for any tidbits I might have brought them, then retreated when they found none. I circled my hand in the pool. The summer day had warmed the water, and the gentle heat against my skin soaked into my hand just as desperately as the fish had wanted food.

A scarlet-crested jay fluttered down and settled on the dragon’s sculpted head, piping its eerie melody to the sky. I moved on, dodging behind statues anytime I thought I saw a servant headed my way. Father would never deign to search for me himself, but I had no doubt he would send an endless stream of ladies-in-waiting to track me down before the ball tonight. Ugh, yet another one of the endless parties Father threw to flaunt his wealth to other kingdoms while refusing to aid his own people.

“Princess Rapunzel!” I had been spotted. I glared at the inscription chiseled into the plaque beneath the sculpture:Never trust a dragon. I snorted. Father had been aptly nicknamedTheDragon Kingby the people. He was just as greedy, and the inscription was true. I shouldn’t ever trust him.

“Princess Rapunzel!” the voice repeated, and I wearily looked around for the speaker. It was Harold. Both he and his father, Lord Morvain, were some of Father’s most trusted advisors, and new anger flared in my chest. Did he have any idea about what Father had announced? Had he encouraged it? Harold was still unmarried and close to my age, but it was too much to expect that he would have any sympathy for my plight. He was just like all the royalty and nobility I knew—arrogant and self-absorbed. Harold looked very similar to Lord Morvain, with a hooked, hawk-like nose, shrewd eyes, and a thin build with wispy hair. One might have thought of them as bookkeepers, but I was more inclined to think of them as snakes—deceptive and cold.

“Harold,” I greeted him frostily, inclining my head a fraction of an inch. Was I like my own father? Surely I had the predisposition to be just as ruthless and cunning as he.

“You have a ball tonight,” he informed me, drawing up close. “Several of the knights planning to challenge the dragon will be in attendance, and your father wishes for you to greet each one personally.”

So he knew after all. Had all of Father’s advisors known and neglected to tell me about it? I attended most of the same meetings Father did, from foreign diplomacy to domestic affairs and trade negotiations. How was I the only one unaware? They must have known I would object and therefore discussed it in secret when I wasn’t around. I ground my teeth together. Of course they’d discussed my future without me.

“Did you hear me?” he asked, raising his voice a little. “I need to let your father know that you received his message.”

“I heard,” I told him. No matter how much Father wanted to control my life, I still had some freedoms. I coyly pulled my lipstick out of my handbag and coated my lips. “It’s a shame I won’t have any say in whom I’m soon to marry; I have my own preferences. Tell me, Lord Harold, have you ever seen our vegetable gardens?”

He curled his lip in disdain. “I have not. I have much more important matters to tend to.”

“That’s too bad. It’s very secluded this time of day,” I told him, lowering both my eyes and my voice. “Verysecluded.” I took a mint from my bag and pressed it onto my tongue. “And I don’t need to start getting ready for the ball for another hour or two. Would you like me to show you the gardens?”

“I—oh!” I could almost see the gears working in his head as his expression shifted from condescending to cautiously hopeful. “Yes, I think I would like to take a stroll in the garden with you.”

CHAPTER2

Father’s profuse swearing was accompanied by the pattering of many footsteps as his servants hurried after him, growing closer to the room where I sat, plucking at my harp and forcing myself not to smirk. The door flew open with an almighty crash. After finishing the last few chords, I slowly rolled my head around, an agreeable smile on my face that didn’t match Father’s murderous glare.

“Good afternoon, Daddy. What a lovely surprise. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Where is he?” Father thundered. Behind his back, the servants whispered to each other, hands concealing their mouths.

I blinked innocently. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. I’ve just been here practicing my harp, waiting for the ball to begin. Where is who?”

Father’s face was a delightful shade of deepest plum, and the veins on his thick neck throbbed rapidly. “Lord Morvain’s son Harold. Where is he?”

I tapped my finger on my chin. “Lord Morvain…Lord Morvain…isn’t he the one your subjects call the Dark Lord?”

“I swear, Rapunzel, you tell me where he is this instant, or I’ll…I’ll…”

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