Braided, page 10
I wanted to share her scorn, but I kind of understood where Sir Joshan was coming from.
“All he really cares about is making himself look good. He’s already done that by bringing me back. Wanting me to also fall in love with him seems a little greedy. Anyhow, since when do you care about Sir Joshan’s feelings? I thought you didn’t like him.”
I flushed. “Is it that obvious?”
“It is to me.” Rapunzel lifted an eyebrow. “I’m a little surprised that you didn’t change your mind about him after he found me, though.”
“I’ve sort of gone in the opposite direction.” I bit my lip. “Today I accused him of trying to kill you. I thought he was the one who left the gallfern on the roost.”
Rapunzel gave me a long, indecipherable look.
“I didn’t mean to tell about the gallfern!” I said quickly. “I keep my promises. But I thought I had figured out who did it. I gave Sir Joshan one of my hair bracelets a few years ago, and I figured he had used it to get to the dragon roost. But it wasn’t him, so now Mother knows, and…I’m sorry.”
She shrugged. “I’m not angry. I just didn’t realize you were still obsessed.”
“I’m not obsessed. I’m trying to help you! And I could, if you would just let me. I’m capable of more than you think.” I put the rest of the apple down on my night table. “You may not believe me, but it’s true. I gave away some of my hair to get you back.”
“I appreciate it—”
“You don’t act like you do. You don’t act like you appreciate anything that’s been done for you.”
“Sorry,” Rapunzel said. “I’ll try to do a better job of acting.”
I glared at her. I couldn’t see my hair, but I was sure it was fiery red. “You said fear was the first thing you got rid of in the Realms. Was common decency the second?”
“No,” Rapunzel said. “But it was on the list.”
“It’s not funny! This whole country has been trying to find you, wishing for your release, hoping for your return, for twelve years. And you couldn’t care less about any of us!”
“I care about you,” Rapunzel said. “You’re the only worthwhile thing in this whole ridiculous castle.”
I wasn’t sure how to respond to that. The proper response to a compliment, Nanny Cresta had taught me, is Thank you. But I couldn’t exactly thank her for calling my home ridiculous.
What I said, finally, was, “You’ve only been back for two days. Don’t you think it’s a little too early to make up your mind about everyone here?”
“No,” Rapunzel said. “Actually, I don’t.”
I crossed my arms over my chest. “I’m starting to think Mother has a point about you.”
“Maybe she does.” Rapunzel stood so abruptly that she pulled half my blanket off the bed. She turned and stalked across the room. “Or maybe I was wrong about you, Cinna. You’re just like everyone else here. You can’t deal with me being an actual person who doesn’t look at everything the same way you do. Admit it—you liked me better when I was a prisoner you were trying to save.”
I opened my mouth, but before I could speak, she reached the window and leaped out of it without the slightest hesitation. Her hair swooshed over the sill, and then vanished.
A moment later I heard the flapping of giant wings as Fireball took her away.
12
DEAR RAPUNZEL,
I AM VERY ANGRY AT YOU.
THAT’S ALL RIGHT, ISN’T IT? SISTERS ARE ANGRY AT EACH OTHER A LOT. NOT IN MY BOOKS, WHERE IF SISTERS FIGHT IT’S ALWAYS BECAUSE ONE OF THEM IS EVIL, BUT I THINK THIS IS ONE OF THOSE CASES WHERE BOOKS ARE NOT ENTIRELY ACCURATE. MY MAID SPENT HALF THE MORNING TALKING ABOUT HER SISTER WHO CAME TO COURT YESTERDAY AND BORROWED HER CLOTHES WITHOUT ASKING AND TOLD THE NOBLEMAN SHE’S IN LOVE WITH AN EMBARRASSING STORY ABOUT HER. BUT MY MAID ONCE BORROWED ANOTHER MAID’S CLOTHES WITHOUT ASKING, AND LAST WEEK SHE WAS IN LOVE WITH A DIFFERENT NOBLEMAN, SO I DON’T THINK THIS IS A CASE WHERE ANYONE IS EVIL.
IT’S NOT FAIR TO BE ANGRY AT YOU. I KNOW THAT WHEREVER YOU ARE, YOU’RE TRAPPED. IF NOT, YOU WOULD COME FIND US. YOU PROBABLY DON’T EVEN KNOW WHO YOU REALLY ARE. IT’S NOT AS IF YOU’RE STAYING AWAY BY CHOICE.
I KNOW ALL THAT. I’M STILL ANGRY AT YOU FOR NOT BEING HERE.
IF YOU EVER DO COME HOME, I WILL RIP UP THIS LETTER AND NEVER GIVE IT TO YOU.
LOVE,
CINNA
The next morning, while we were eating breakfast in the royal dining chamber, my mother announced that Rapunzel would be joining me for my lessons.
“I know you’re older than Cinna,” she said to Rapunzel, her hair steely silver. Her hairstyle today was a combination of different types of braids that had been intertwined to form a massive, intricate bun. It would have been impossibly heavy if not for the lightening rope braids coiling through it, and the strength-enhancing five-strand braid that formed its base. “But your education is, for obvious reasons, lacking. You have a lot to learn, and you’ll have to learn it fast. Cinna has excellent tutors, and she won’t mind helping you catch up. Right, Cinna?”
She glanced at me for the briefest of seconds. By the time I nodded, she had already refocused on Rapunzel.
My sister plucked a cheese muffin from the breakfast platter. She examined it, popped it into her mouth, chewed, and swallowed. Her scalp was covered by overlapping braids that joined into a single long fishtail braid snaking down her back. The braids varied in thickness, but they were all either fishtail or tzarfatian braids, the basic components of any grace and charm spell.
Very subtle, Mother. I had no doubt she had instructed Rapunzel’s maid to choose this style.
It didn’t seem to be doing her much good. Rapunzel was studiously ignoring the steaming mug of dragon’s milk next to her plate, and my mother was, so far, ignoring the fact that she was ignoring it.
“Well?” my mother said. “Will you join Cinna in her studies?”
Rapunzel tilted her head to the side. “I have a choice?”
“I hope,” my mother said, “that you will welcome this opportunity to learn the history and culture of your kingdom, and to gain the skills you will need in order to rule. It’s your birthright. Once you are taught, you’ll know—”
“Not to ride dragons above the city?” Rapunzel took another muffin. “Will I know how to bake these, though? They’re delicious.”
Red crept up the edges of my mother’s hair. “You’ll know how to hire the bakers who bake them.”
“Even better.” Rapunzel popped the muffin into her mouth. “Sure, why not? I’ll take princess lessons with Cinna.”
My mother winced. Not talking with your mouth full was princess lesson number one.
“It’s my second to last day in the castle, after all,” Rapunzel went on. “I can’t imagine a better way to spend it.”
My mother’s mouth formed a straight line. “Tomorrow is not your last day with us, Rapunzel. We won’t let the fae take you back. The mage is working on a very powerful ward. It will be ready by tonight.”
Rapunzel chewed and swallowed. “How reassuring.”
I looked at my own plate. Cheese muffins were my favorite, and we rarely had them. I picked one up, then put it down. I had drunk my dragon’s milk, and now I could feel it swishing around in my stomach.
It wasn’t just the dragon’s milk, though. I had felt nauseated ever since last night’s argument. I had been half convinced that when I woke, Rapunzel would already be gone.
But then my mother had summoned me to breakfast, and there Rapunzel had been, hair as sunnily golden as if we had never argued. As if she had never told me she planned to abandon us all.
Maybe she hadn’t meant it. Maybe this was just how sisters fought. Brief and furious, then over the next morning, like a summer rainstorm. We were sisters, so we were bonded forever, which meant a fight was inconsequential. Right?
“You’ll only have morning lessons today,” my mother said. “We will spend the afternoon getting ready for the garden party.”
She paused, clearly braced for Rapunzel’s reaction. But Rapunzel just reached over and took another muffin.
My mother left shortly after that—to “check on the mage’s progress”—leaving half a muffin and a scrambled egg uneaten on her plate. Rapunzel continued eating with gusto, but I still couldn’t manage a bite. My stomach was twisted too tight. I pushed my plate to the side, and a pair of pixies descended on it gleefully.
Did Rapunzel not notice that I was still angry at her? Did she not care?
Rapunzel wiped crumbs from her lips. “Tell me the truth. How deadly dull are these lessons?”
“They’re fine,” I said shortly. “They’re important.”
“Really? Before you came to breakfast, Mother said your first lesson today was Painting and Sculpture.”
“Ugh.” Honestly, couldn’t we have skipped that today? “That one is the worst.”
“Really? Not history?”
“It’s close,” I admitted.
She laughed. “Why exactly do you have to take Painting and Sculpture?”
“The mage is trying to find an artistic talent for me.”
“Really?” Rapunzel said. “I would think that you being a princess with magical hair should be enough for them.”
I grinned, startled. “That’s exactly what I always say!”
She grinned back. “The fae also find art extremely important. I can’t say I’ve ever seen the point.”
A hint of information about her life in the Realms? It felt like a bribe, and all at once I didn’t want to take it. “Well, you don’t see the point of anything I do, so that’s not surprising.”
She blinked, her hair going a shade paler. I reached over the table and took the half muffin from my mother’s plate.
“I’m sorry,” Rapunzel said.
I blinked at her.
“I shouldn’t have said the things I did last night. I don’t want to argue with you, Cinna.” She ran her finger around the rim of the mug of dragon’s milk. “I’m just so used to being surrounded by hostile creatures that it feels natural to me. I’m not really comfortable around people who like me.”
“For the most part,” I said, “I don’t think you have to worry about that.”
She laughed so hard that she spat out a chunk of muffin. “Well, that’s a relief.” She coughed forcefully, swiped a napkin across her mouth, and pushed her chair back. The mug of dragon’s milk remained in its place, completely full. “Maybe these lessons will be fun after all, if we’re in them together. Why don’t you lead the way?”
* * *
The way to the art room led past the inner courtyard, where the guards were training. Rapunzel paused on the balcony to watch, leaning both elbows on the railing. Several of the guards pretended not to notice her while practicing with extra gusto and some flashier than usual moves.
“Do you take sword-fighting lessons, too?” she asked me.
I joined her at the balcony a bit reluctantly. The training courtyard always stank of sweat and rust, and this morning was no exception. “I just started swordplay earlier this year. I’m not nearly as good as any of them, though.”
“Who do you take lessons with?”
“The master of the guard.”
She looked at me sideways. “Do you spend all your time with adults? Don’t you have any friends your own age?”
I shrugged, vaguely embarrassed. “It’s not on purpose. Maybe if there were some servants’ children who were my age, I would spend time with them.”
“What about Kai?” Rapunzel said.
I froze. “How do you know about Kai?”
A moment’s silence. I turned to see Rapunzel wincing. “The queen told me.”
“Our mother talked to you about Kai?”
She sighed. “All right. It was Nanny Cresta who told me about him. Don’t be angry, Cinna. She just wanted me to understand you better.”
How did Rapunzel know that it would bother me more if it was Nanny Cresta? But she was right. The thought of the two of them talking about me, probing my life, made my throat burn.
“What did she tell you?” I demanded.
“Just that Kai was your friend, and then…something happened? She didn’t seem to want to get too detailed. Did he not want to be friends with you anymore?”
I still wasn’t sure about that. Kai had started spending more and more time with the older boys who worked in the stables, and less and less time with me. But it no longer mattered. “He died.”
“Oh.” Rapunzel’s hair faded momentarily. “I’m sorry.”
“It was nearly two years ago.” I kept my own gaze on the flashing swords and sweaty guards. Kai’s cousin was sharpening a blade in the corner. “A giant spider came out of the Realms and found some castle children picnicking in the woods. It killed two of them before our mother got there.”
I hadn’t been invited to that picnic. If I had, there would have been guards watching us.
I swallowed. “Do you know what that spider—”
“A volskin,” Rapunzel said immediately. “That’s what they’re called. I looked into them once. They usually live in caverns deep underground, because sunlight kills them. It would have been dead within hours.”
In the courtyard, a sword got knocked out of one guard’s hand and slid across the dirt ground, followed by a chorus of catcalls and insults. I watched the embarrassed guard retrieve his sword, but I could feel Rapunzel’s gaze on the side of my face.
“I’m sorry,” she said, in the gentlest tone I’d heard from her. “I wish our mother had been in time to save your friend.”
“She saved the rest of the group. And who knows how many other people besides. If she hadn’t stopped the monster, it could have slaughtered dozens before the sunlight worked.” I turned, finally, and looked my sister in the eye. “Kai wasn’t the first person to be killed by one of the fae. He won’t be the last. That’s why what we do—what we are—is so important.”
“Right,” Rapunzel said slowly. “I understand why you feel that way.”
“Thanks so much.” I could feel my irritation coming back. “I don’t understand why you don’t feel that way.”
“It looks different from inside the Realms. As far as the fae are concerned, the whole world belongs to them. Humans have no right to safety and security. Besides, fear is good for humans—it keeps them appropriately humble.”
I stared at her. The braids stretching along her scalp turned faintly pink, though her long fishtail braid remained golden.
“Well,” she added, “that’s what I grew up hearing. I know how it sounds to you. But it makes sense to them.”
I folded my arms across my chest. “And it makes sense to you?”
“No one ever suggested that it didn’t make sense.” She chewed her lower lip. “I guess I didn’t think about it too hard.”
“But you knew that you were human, right?” My mother’s words burrowed in my head: We don’t really know who she is. I’m not even sure she knows who she is. “That you are human.”
Rapunzel reached up and ran a hand down her braid. “We’re not exactly human, though, are we? We have magic. That makes us part fae.”
“We have magic so we can fight the fae.”
“Well, that’s what you grew up hearing.”
“Oh, so subtle. But it’s not the same thing at all. The fae kill people for no reason. They sent that spider, and we don’t even know why.” I hesitated. “Unless…do you know…”
Rapunzel bit her lip. “They probably did it just for fun.”
“For fun?”
“They don’t see life and death the way humans do. And they’re trapped in the Realms, plus most of them are immortal, so they get…bored…” Her voice trailed off. She wouldn’t meet my eyes. “Nobody there thinks much about humans, really. Except as a diversion. They’re just waiting for us to die off.”
I tried not to think about Kai so my throat wouldn’t tighten further. “Then why don’t they wait? We would leave them completely alone if they would just stay on their side of the border.”
Rapunzel coiled the end of her braid around her wrist. “They don’t think they should have to.”
“Right, because—”
She held up a hand, her braid falling with a heavy slap against her shoulder. “I don’t want to argue with you, Cinna. Not again. I’m just trying to explain that things are complicated. The fae are not one hundred percent bad, and we’re not one hundred percent good.”
“I never thought we were,” I said. “But we’re still more good than they are.”
Rapunzel rolled her eyes.
“Is that why you won’t work on finding out who gave you to them?” I demanded. “Because you think that person was right to steal you away from your family and your kingdom?”
“I don’t think anything of the sort.”
“Then what is it? You don’t believe I’m smart enough to help you figure it out?”
“I just don’t think it matters,” Rapunzel said. “What’s done is done. I want to be free of the fae. Constantly thinking about this is just another way to give them control over me.”
“Except if you figure out who helped them steal you, we can find out what you were traded for, and then maybe we can end their control over you!”
Rapunzel sighed. “You’re not listening to me.”
“You’re not explaining yourself to me! Give me something to listen to.”
She shook her head. “Let’s drop this and go to the art room, all right? You need time to stop arguing and start thinking.”
“Fine,” I snapped. “I’ll stop arguing. But I will not start thinking!”
Which didn’t come out quite the way I had intended it.
I turned and marched down the hall, away from the clanging swords, without looking back to see Rapunzel’s expression.
