Page 36 of Zel
A drunken haze.
“My first teacher did not stay long enough for me to know her fate,” Ulrich said. “A traveler through our kingdom. She was ravishing. Not the most beautiful person I have known, mind you,” he added with a fixed stare on Zel’s face, “but if ever in mypast I could have given up my ambitions for love, she might have earned it and turned me from my path.”
“Just as the bard saved the prince?” Zel referenced Ulrich’s favorite tale, though not without a stir of jealousy, even if that teacher had only been a potential love for Ulrich. Surprised as he had been to learn Ulrich had not known love in his life, Zel had come to like that truth. He liked knowing Ulrich’s heart had never belonged to another.
“Precisely,” Ulrich said. “But I think I mourned more for the fairy tale not lived than the woman. It takes someone special to tempt one with both.” His drunken eyes had centered on Zel, more heated than ever.
“Are you well, my lord?” Zel asked.
“Too well.” Ulrich chuckled, tearing his gaze away to stare into his wine goblet. “I think it best that we suspend our merrymaking or regret it come the morn.”
“Being immortal does not spare you the effects of strong drink?”
“How unfair if it did. But I am spared the ill effects later. You, I imagine, are not. I would not want to put you at such… dire risk should we continue.”
Zel rarely suffered too badly after a night of merrymaking with drink, but he had never woken after a rough night completely unhindered. He did not think that was what Ulrich was saving him from, however.
They parted and retired to their separate chambers, but what mattered was what Zel had learned. Now he knew how Ulrich might be put in a vulnerable enough state for a blow to be struck. He just needed to learn how to make that blow matter.
Since Ulrich’s tongue seemed loosened while intoxicated, Zel also began laying the groundwork to propose a different sort of outing, one during which he might discover the final pieces of the puzzle needed to slay him. Zel did so perhaps too slowly, butit saddened him knowing he might have a way to complete this mission, and he stalled well into their third week, until he could no longer risk wasting another day.
While Zel had a moment alone, resigned to finally move forward with his plans, he perused Ulrich’s shelf of dearest treasures. He eventually realized he had his braids over his shoulder and was stroking the plaits. Typical when anxious, but he had been doing it too often lately. If his hair hadn’t been magical, he might have pulled out clumps by now.
The only other things that could usually ease Zel when he felt like this were stolen moments with Rudy in the storeroom—currently not an option—or encouragement from his parents. Usually not an option, since Zel was in the tower and they were hours away back in the city, but in front of Zel was an orb with green mist swirling within it that could show anywhere its activator wished to look upon.
Although Zel couldn’t remove anything from the shelf, he could still touch its contents. He ran his fingers over the orb and imagined his parents in their music shop, which at this hour would just be closing.
“Any letters today, Soph?”
Zel snatched his hand back. He hadn’t expected to be able to hear what he looked in on. He hadn’t heard anything when Ulrich touched the orb, but then, Zel’s father’s voice had sounded like it echoed within Zel’s mind, not from the orb itself. Perhaps only the activator could hear what was shown.
Zel quickly returned his fingers to bring the images and sound back.
“…normal to not receive one every day,” his mother spoke the last half of her answer.
“I know. Doesn’t mean I don’t worry every second our little Rapunzel is away.”
The pair were shuttering the shop for the night. They didn’t look like assassins while in normal clothing. Or like thieves. But then, who did when not in the midst of such acts?
“She is not so little anymore,” Sophie said.
“Soph, when it’s just us, I think you can sayhe.”
“Can I?”
Gregor looked over from where he had latched the door closed to Sophie counting the day’s coin to separate out what would go to the guild. “What do you mean?”
“Just that.” Sophie shrugged. “When this is all over, do you think Rapunzel will live as a man or remain a woman?”
Gregor approached her with a scrunched brow. “I suppose I had never thought about it. Rapunzel hasn’t had a choice in the matter until now. Has he only ever dallied with boys?”
“You have to ask?” Sophie chuckled.
“Well, how does one discuss such things with their child?”
“I thought most fathers and sons got quite bawdy about such talk.”
“It’s different with Rapunzel than if we had a real so—oh. I see your point.”
