Page 34 of Rapunzel's Gambit (All That Glitters)

So this must be what bandits felt like—secretive and powerful.

The moonless night was perfect for the reverse robbing we had in mind. Pollox would soar through the air almost as silently as an owl, and close to whichever home he had in mind, then point me in the right direction. It was my task to sneak over, collect whatever was on their offering altar, and leave something else in its place.

It was a rush each time I crept toward a darkened house, squinting around in the starlight to ensure I would remain hidden. Even if I was spotted, the black of my clothing and my face being concealed would hide my identity. Each time I dropped a pouch of gold coins on an altar, I was struck again by the irony that I was doing more for my people as a supposedly imprisoned outcast than I ever had done for them as a princess.

One of the roads Pollox landed near looked strangely familiar, but at first, I couldn’t remember why. I stared at the dilapidated building ahead, barely visible in the inky sky. The moon’s presence wouldn’t have made any difference; the heavy clouds smothered the stars. Pollox could have flown directly overhead and no one would be any the wiser in the suffocating darkness.

With a sudden flash, I recalled the scene, which looked so different in the darkness and absent of the hollowed faces of the children staring out at me as the royal carriage had trundled past the day Father made the unilateral decision to give me to whomever would kill Pollox. If any establishment was in need of gold, it was this one. Pollox had wandered off to deposit more treasure somewhere else, and creeping up on the orphanage was much easier than putting on a show for the knights and princes who flocked to the tower, disheartening though it was.

The shabby shutters swung sadly in the breeze, and from somewhere within the orphanage, an infant let out a wail. I crouched beside empty crates stacked beside the kitchen door, staying low enough to the ground that I would blend in with the shadows and clutching the leather pouch of coins in my gloved hand. I stared in through the cracked window, where a woman with dark circles under her eyes entered a room then emerged a few moments later, rocking a baby back and forth in her arms. In a voice hoarse from years of use, the matron began crooning a soft lullaby for the baby. The tune wove through the night, sweet but also heavy from exhaustion.

Even though the darkness ought to hide me completely, I still found myself shrinking into the tiny space between the empty crates and the orphanage wall, willing myself not to be discovered.

“Don’t worry,” the matron cooed to the infant once she finished her lullaby. “You’ll be okay.”

“Is it Freddy again?” came another woman’s voice, just loudly enough that I could hear her words through the hole in the kitchen door’s small window.

“Yes. But most of them are struggling to stay asleep.”

“Of course. They’re all hungry.” There was no mistaking the bitterness in the second woman’s voice.

“We’re doing the best we can,” the older woman answered.

“No thanks to the Dragon King,” the other sneered. “When was the last time we had one of the stipends we were promised?”

“Years,” the matron groaned. There was a creak of wood as she sat down. “We’re fortunate that there are so many generous benefactors nearby.”

“Not generous enough. We still need new thatching on the roof before winter, and the clothing is more patch than—” She broke off as the infant began fussing again.

“A problem to discuss in the morning,” the matron said wearily. “We’ll manage. We always do. But I need to get this one back down.”

They lapsed into silence, but their words stuck with me, combining with a faint echo of Father’s past words, “Charity weakens a kingdom’s spine” until my blood boiled. Father was refusing to send payments to support orphans and had spent who knew how much gold to host lavish parties when his citizens were starving and in dire need.

This was the result—hungry children and desperate civilians, all while Father turned a blind eye to their needs. Anytime I had voiced my concerns, he had always claimed that things would improve. And until this very moment, I hadn’t known how dire a situation people were in. I’d never been so glad to have left.

Abandoning my original plan to leave a few coins, I placed the entire pouch of coins on the back step, where the matron was sure to see it the following morning when she went to fetch water from the well. There was another creak from inside the orphanage, and I froze, terrified of being discovered. The faint candlelight in the window was snuffed out, and footsteps faded down the hall. Perhaps the matron was finally putting the infant back to bed. I managed to breathe again.

It was all Father’s fault.

No, I was partially to blame for not doing more to help them. I could have fought harder to have my voice heard. I hadsomepower, even if not all of it. I simply hadn’t known how bad the situation was.

I crept back toward the cover of the forest, hating how apathetic I’d been toward my people for the majority of my life.

“So that’s where you are.”

I nearly leapt out of my skin as Pollox’s deep voice rumbled through the darkness.

“By George, Pollox!” I yelped.

His mouth fell open. “There’s no need for language like that,” he scolded me.

“Shhh, we’ll be caught.” I pressed a hand against my chest to calm my frantically beating heart. “We need to get out of here.”

We took off into the night. Pollox flew toward the tower, but I tugged the reins to veer him to the left. “Can I stay with you again tonight?” I couldn’t be alone again.

“Of course.” He instantly turned and soared back to the cave. I lapsed into silence, unable to tear my mind away from the orphanage.

“You’ve been very quiet,” Pollox told me when we landed. “Are you upset with me for scaring you? It was unintentional.”

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