But…
What was the point of leaving the tower, if she’s just going to see everyone new as a Gothel waiting to happen?
“I’m so sorry, Your Majesty, I seem to have some blisters,” Rapunzel confesses. “I’m still getting used to shoes.”
Minister Cressien runs a hand over his mouth.
But to her surprise, Enver just lets her go with a booming laugh. “I never even considered! Of course you’d have no needfor them, living indoors all that time. We can pause the tour and go back to the palace. You’ll have plenty of time to see the rest.”
“Do you usually just go around barefoot?” Verette asks. Rapunzel can’t tell if it’s with surprise or derision; she’s barely spoken the entire tour.
“Oh! Would that be more comfortable for you?” Enver doesn’tsoundbothered, despite Cressien’s obvious and increasing mortification. At her sheepish nod, he laughs again. “Well, no need to”—he elbows Verette—“standon ceremony, eh?”
“If you’re sure,” Rapunzel says, already peeling her slippers off. Cressien’s face says this is going into the next report, but she can’t bring herself to care. “Now, about the spring systems…”
The chief engineer’s face lights up, but Princess Verette clears her throat. “The Councilor of the North will answer your questions at this afternoon’s social. I’m afraid we must be on our way if we’re to return in time.”
“That’s my Verette, keeping us on schedule,” Enver says with a chuckle.
“Understood, Your Highness. Right this way.” The chief engineer leads them down the catwalk, footsteps clanging on the hammered iron.
Rapunzel falls in step with Verette, trying not to favor her blistered heel too obviously. The crown princess has mostly let Councilor Teophine and King Enver take the lead on the tour today, and for someone who’s about to have her eighteenth birthday, she doesn’t seem terribly excited.
Then again, Rapunzel is still working on estimating peoples’ ages. For most of her life, she had her own mirror to judge from, and Gothel’s fluctuating youth, and that was it. So her best guess is that Verette is about eighteen, like Rapunzel, but…she’s not entirely confident. There’s something younger in the softness of her face, something older in the pinch of her narrow lips, and something steely in her bearing that promises prying will be a waste of time.
But if there’s anything Rapunzel can do, it’s get people to open up. “So,” she says merrily, “your birthday’s next week! Do you know what presents you’re getting, or is it a surprise?”
Verette tilts her head, twin loops of pale braids swaying at the sides of her face. “Presents?”
“For your birthday?” Rapunzel rubs the back of her neck. “You know, like…well, I wanted paint this year, but I got wine. And a carriage.”
“Ah,” says Verette, tipping from confusion into reluctant obligation. It’s an emotion nonetheless, so Rapunzel counts that as progress. “We don’t do that here. There’s a benediction ceremony, where your family and friends say their hopes for your next year, and the pledging of deeds during the banquet, and finally invitations.”
“Invitations to the birthday party?” Now it’s Rapunzel’s turn to be confused. Cressien coughs pointedly behind her.
“No,” Verette says in the sort of tone you use with a small child, “invitations to gatherings, future festivities, and so on. Like what my father sent to you.”
Rapunzel is trying,veryhard, not to see Gothel in Verette, too, even if that answerdidfeel a little condescending. As they leave the Northeast Secondary Sunmill, she says, “You know, that actually sounds better than presents. I don’t even know what I’m going to do with all the wine I got. So we should probably invite you to our kingdom for your birthday, too, right?”
“We,”Cressien interjects swiftly over Rapunzel’s shoulder, “can wait for the proper time and place for such an invitation. Your Highness.”
Of course. Just because Rapunzel’s trying to keep an open mind doesn’t mean they know what she’d be inviting into their home. Not yet.
“Right, sorry,” Rapunzel says in a rush.
“Her Highness has a generous spirit.” Councilor Teophine smooths it over as they descend the steps. The sun-drenched stone feels pleasantly warm under Rapunzel’s soles.
The crowd waiting just beyond the wall of their guard escort might be the largest yet. In every gathering, the faces greeting them have been full of excitement and something eerily like…hope. And just like the previous crowds, these people are making themselves heard.
“Blessings on the princess!”
“An auspicious year to you, Princess Verette!”
“Hail the queen to come!”
Rapunzel sneaks a glance at Verette and Enver. Verette’s mask is as opaque as ever, but—
When she looks at Enver’s expression, all she can think of is the moment Mother—Gothel—told her,Don’t ever ask to leave this tower again.
