Braided, page 6
I took two steps toward her—far too close to the edge for comfort, but it felt like I was proving something. I looked down over the cliffside, then realized what a bad idea that was. “This is…very high.”
“That only matters if we fall.”
I wished she hadn’t mentioned falling. I focused on her face, trying to avoid noticing the precipice right behind it. “Yes, Mother failed to find you for years. But back then, there were no clues to follow. She didn’t even know at first that it was the fae who had taken you. She wasted years searching inland.”
“Interesting mistake,” Rapunzel said. “I would have thought the Realms would be the first place she’d look.”
“I’m sure she had reasons,” I said. “She always does. But it doesn’t matter anymore. Whoever kidnapped you just made a mistake. They left us a clue. If we find out who was at the dragon roost last night—or at least, who wasn’t where they were supposed to be—”
“Who wasn’t where they were supposed to be?” Rapunzel repeated. “There must be hundreds of people in this castle. Who would be keeping track of where everyone was supposed to be?”
“Mother would,” I said. “She keeps track of everything.”
“No,” Rapunzel said. “You can’t tell her about this. You can’t tell anyone.”
“We have to! Someone tried to kill you.”
She shook her head fiercely. “I won’t be locked up in this castle, even for my own safety.”
I bit my lip. I didn’t know what our mother would do if she found out about an attempt on Rapunzel’s life. But it wasn’t out of the question that she would keep her locked up, under close guard. She had lost her daughter once; she wouldn’t risk letting it happen again.
But if something did happen to Rapunzel, and my mother found out that I had known about the danger and not warned her…
“Don’t tell her,” Rapunzel said. “Please, Cinna.”
I realized that I had been silent for a long time. My sister’s eyes were unblinking, and there was something on her face—a desperate tension—that I sort of recognized, though I couldn’t put a name to it.
“Of course,” I said. She smiled, and a slow, gratified warmth rose in me. “Don’t worry. I won’t tell her anything.”
“Won’t tell who anything?” a familiar voice demanded.
We whirled at the same time.
My mother stepped regally down from the slanted rock and strode across the dragon roost toward us.
7
DEAR RAPUNZEL,
TODAY MOTHER TOOK OVER TEACHING ME ABOUT DRAGONS. THE MAGE CALLS THIS CLASS DRAGONS AND THEIR MYSTERIES, BUT I CALL IT DRAGONS AND HOW NOT TO GET BURNED BY THEM. WHEN I TOLD MOTHER THAT, SHE ACTUALLY LAUGHED!
SO I THOUGHT THIS WOULD BE MORE FUN THAN MY REGULAR LESSONS, BUT IT TURNS OUT WE DON’T DO ANYTHING WITH FIREBALL. WE JUST TALK ABOUT HIM. MOTHER ACTUALLY SHOOED HIM OUT OF THE ROOM BEFORE WE STARTED.
POOR FIREBALL. I THINK HIS FEELINGS WERE HURT. NANNY CRESTA HAS BARELY LET ME PLAY WITH HIM SINCE HE BIT ME, SO HE WAS ALREADY SAD. BEFORE THE CLASS, HE HAD BEEN SITTING ON MY KNEE WITH HIS HEAD CURLED AGAINST MY SKIRT. YOU MIGHT THINK DRAGONS WOULD BE HOT TO THE TOUCH, BUT HIS SCALES ARE ALWAYS COLD. I ASKED MOTHER WHY, AND SHE SAID NOBODY KNOWS ANYTHING ABOUT DRAGONS. WE CAN’T STUDY THEM BECAUSE FOR MOST PEOPLE IT’S NOT SAFE TO GET NEAR THEM. THE ONLY REASON IT’S SAFE FOR ME AND HER IS BECAUSE OF OUR HAIR.
I NEVER ARGUE WITH MOTHER. EXCEPT SOMETIMES I DO. IT’S KIND OF LIKE AN EXCEPTION TO NEVER.
“I’M SAFE AROUND FIREBALL BECAUSE HE LIKES ME,” I SAID. “HE’D LIKE ME EVEN WITHOUT MY HAIR.”
MOTHER’S HAIR TURNED DARK RED. (NEVER A GOOD SIGN. WHEN YOU RETURN, YOU’LL LEARN THAT PRETTY FAST. THOUGH I BET MOTHER WILL NEVER GET ANGRY AT YOU ONCE SHE HAS YOU BACK.)
“NO,” SHE SAID, “HE WOULDN’T LIKE YOU. HE IS WHAT HE IS: A WILD FAE BEAST. IF YOU LOST YOUR HAIR, EVEN NOW, HE WOULD ATTACK YOU ON THE SPOT.”
“I THOUGHT NOBODY KNOWS ANYTHING ABOUT DRAGONS,” I SAID.
I DIDN’T REALLY SAY THAT. I DIDN’T EVEN DARE THINK IT, UNTIL LATER. AND YOU’RE THE ONLY ONE I WOULD EVER REPEAT IT TO.
LOVE,
CINNA
“Step away from that edge,” my mother snapped. “Honestly, Cinna! What are you thinking?”
Me? Did she really think I was the one who had decided that several inches from a deadly fall was a good place to stand? I shot her a reproachful look as I stepped, with great relief, away from the edge.
Rapunzel didn’t move. A wind whipped along the plateau and blew her skirt and her hair out over the precipice, which made me gasp. But she didn’t react.
“Rapunzel,” my mother said sharply. Her hair had been gathered into a bun, from which a single regal four-strand braid dropped in a long chain to her ankles. “What are you doing?”
“Just looking,” Rapunzel said. “If the winds are right and the mist goes thin, I’ll be able to see the Realms. Isn’t that what they say?”
Her voice dropped, and so did my heart, right into my feet. I wasn’t sure why, but something about the faint, wistful tone of her voice made me feel sick.
My mother sighed. “Don’t be childish.”
“Why not?” Rapunzel said. “I never got to be a child. Shouldn’t I seize the opportunity?”
My mother stopped a few feet away from us, flicking the edge of her skirt away from a remnant of gallfern still drifting across the stone. “Is that what you call it? Sneaking away from Sir Joshan, setting everyone into a frenzy—”
“A frenzy?” Rapunzel repeated. “Really? Cinna, did you notice any frenz—”
“I sent a dozen guards to search for you,” my mother snapped.
“There was no need for that,” Rapunzel said. “I told Sir Joshan where I was going.”
“You left him a note!”
Rapunzel’s brow furrowed. “Oh dear. Can’t he read?”
“Of course he can read! But for all we knew, you had been forced to write it.”
“No mere human,” Rapunzel said, in a voice like steel, “forces me to do anything.”
“We were afraid for you! Don’t you understand that? The fae want you back. They sent someone to threaten you! You can’t go wandering around by yourself at a time like this. You should be afraid, too.”
Rapunzel drew herself up and met our mother’s eyes. “I’ve spent my life as a prisoner of the fae,” she said. “Fear was the first thing I got rid of. If I hadn’t, I’d have gone completely mad.”
My mother pressed her lips together, and I could tell what she was thinking: Were we all sure she wasn’t mad?
Rapunzel could tell what she was thinking, too. The corners of her lips tilted up, her eyes dancing.
My mother looked away from her and focused on me. “What, exactly, were you promising not to tell?”
My mouth opened. I glanced at my sister and snapped it shut. “I—I don’t—it’s nothing—I mean—”
“You will tell me.” Mother’s voice was even steelier than her eyes.
“Are you trying to get her to break a promise?” Rapunzel sounded truly horrified.
My mother took her gaze off me, to my vast relief. She turned it on Rapunzel, who stared back at her.
“If I can’t even trust my own sister,” she said, “I have to wonder why I’m here.”
I opened my mouth again, this time to assure her that she could trust me. But my mother spoke first.
“You are here because you’re needed, Rapunzel. The Borderland is different from most places. There are always magical creatures spilling over from the Realms—you’ve probably seen the pixies around the castle, but we also get mermaids and unicorns and dryads. And elves.” She didn’t mention the giant spiders. “The fae aren’t supposed to cross the border, but like you saw at the banquet, some of them do. The only reason humans can live here at all is because of us and our magical hair. If not for that…”
“War, death, and destruction.” Rapunzel sighed. “Yes, you’ve explained it all in detail.”
“It’s not a joke!” A reddish tinge appeared on my mother’s cheeks and on the outer edges of her braid. “Don’t you care about your people?”
“I understand that I’m supposed to care,” Rapunzel said. “I’m just not sure why.”
The red crept up my mother’s hair and twined through her bun. “Because you are their princess. They trust in you. We never stopped waiting for your return.”
Rapunzel lifted her eyebrows. “That’s a very nice and completely untrue statement.”
My mother took a deep breath. “Look. I’m not going to lie to you.”
“Well,” Rapunzel said, “it’s good to know you were considering it.”
The red deepened. “You are our princess, and we are overjoyed to have you back, but we are also afraid. We don’t know what the faerie queen will do when you don’t return to the Realms. But we will not let her take you, not this time. You are the future queen of the Borderland, and we will let the entire kingdom know it. The procession is only the first step.”
“Oh, right,” Rapunzel said. “That.”
“What do you mean, that?” I demanded. “What procession?”
“This afternoon,” my mother said, “we will march together through the city streets, to celebrate Rapunzel’s return and show the populace that we are reunited.” She was supposedly answering me, but her narrowed eyes were focused on my sister. “And that Rapunzel is here to stay.”
“I thought there was going to be a public celebration in the castle garden,” I said.
“That will be tomorrow.”
“Sounds fun.” Rapunzel smiled and flipped back her hair, with no regard for its elaborate network of painstakingly woven braids. “Should Cinna and I wear matching dresses?”
“No,” my mother said shortly.
“Matching hairstyles, then?”
My mother gave her a look that would have sent anyone else into a quavering, cringing apology. Rapunzel’s smile dimmed a tiny bit.
“Our hairstyles,” my mother said, “are not just for appearances. Mage Talyani, who has studied the braiding spells all her life, has yours all planned out. It will grant you grace and calm and a regal demeanor. I’ve already selected the three maids who will be working on it. They are all beside themselves with the honor.” Her gaze flickered to me. “The mage is still working on a way to weave some magic into…that.”
I looked down at the rocky ground. My mother still hadn’t punished me for cutting my hair; she had been too distracted by Rapunzel. But that quick glance was all I needed to remind me that the reckoning had only been delayed, not canceled.
“I suppose Cinna won’t need all day to get ready, then,” Rapunzel said. “I’m rather envious. Though Cinna, if you wouldn’t mind keeping me company—”
My stomach fluttered eagerly. “Yes, of course I—”
“No,” my mother said. “Cinnariosia will get ready on her own.”
“Oh dear,” Rapunzel said. “Are you worried that I’ll be a bad influence on her?”
“It will take every minute we have to get you ready,” my mother said frostily.
Rapunzel pouted. It looked a bit ridiculous, like she was trying to copy an expression she had only seen in a painting. “I thought we could get ready together, as a family.”
“We are the rulers of the Borderland,” my mother snapped. “We are the shield between the rest of the world and the Realms. Our first responsibility is to our kingdom. Once we’ve secured your position as our future queen, then we’ll have time to be a family.”
8
DEAR RAPUNZEL,
I HAVE NOT WRITTEN IN A LONG TIME AND I AM SORRY ABOUT THAT. KAI SAW ME PUSHING MY LAST LETTER INTO THE FIREPLACE HEARTH. HE MADE ME TELL HIM WHAT I WAS DOING, AND THEN HE LAUGHED AT ME AND SAID I WAS WRITING LETTERS TO AN IMAGINARY PERSON.
THE LETTERS WERE NANNY CRESTA’S SUGGESTION AND SHE ALWAYS HAS GOOD IDEAS. I SHOULD HAVE IGNORED HIM BUT I DIDN’T SO I’M SORRY.
KAI HAS BEEN SAYING A LOT OF MEAN THINGS LATELY. I THINK IT’S BECAUSE THE OTHER SERVANTS MAKE FUN OF HIM FOR SPENDING TIME WITH A PRINCESS.
I WISH I HAD OTHER FRIENDS BECAUSE THEN I JUST WOULDN’T SPEND TIME WITH HIM. BUT I DON’T KNOW, MAYBE I STILL WOULD. HE CAN ALSO BE FUN, AND HE’S NICE A LOT OF THE TIME.
AND NOW I’M WRITING FOR THE WORST POSSIBLE REASON. I HAVE HORRIBLE NEWS TO TELL YOU.
FATHER IS DEAD.
HE HAS BEEN DYING FOR YEARS, AND IT SEEMS EVERYONE KNEW IT BUT ME. I KNEW HE WAS SICK, BUT I THOUGHT HE WOULD GET BETTER. IN BOOKS, PEOPLE RECOVER MIRACULOUSLY ALL THE TIME. EVEN AFTER THE DOCTORS SAY THERE IS NO HOPE. ESPECIALLY THEN. NOBODY WHO IS DYING EVER REALLY DIES. IN BOOKS.
BUT FATHER DID.
NANNY CRESTA GAVE ME A LONG TALK ABOUT IT A FEW WEEKS AGO. SHE SAID IT’S DANGEROUS THAT ALL THE BOOKS I READ HAVE HAPPY ENDINGS. SHE SAID I’M OLD ENOUGH TO REALIZE THAT LIFE ISN’T A BOOK AND THAT RISKS DON’T USUALLY PAY OFF AND THAT TRUE LOVE OFTEN LEADS TO UNHAPPY MARRIAGES.
I THOUGHT SHE WAS TRYING TO TELL ME TO GIVE UP ON YOU. BUT MAYBE SHE WAS REALLY TELLING ME ABOUT FATHER.
NOW IT’S JUST ME AND MOTHER. WE’RE NOT EVEN A FAMILY. WE’RE JUST A QUEEN AND A PRINCESS.
I CAN’T BELIEVE IT. I’LL GO TO SLEEP, AND WHEN I WAKE UP IT WILL NOT BE TRUE. FATHER WILL BE ALIVE AND YOU WILL BE HERE AND MOTHER WILL HUG ME AND IT WILL BE A HAPPY ENDING. IT WILL BE.
I’M SORRY ABOUT THE TEAR STREAKS. I HOPE YOU CAN READ THIS EVEN THOUGH THE INK IS SO SMUDGED.
PLEASE COME HOME, RAPUNZEL. I REALLY NEED YOU.
LOVE,
YOUR SISTER
CINNA
My mother marched us both down the stairs. When we reached the guard, who was shuffling nervously back and forth at the bottom of the stairway, she passed me off to him.
“See to it,” she said coldly, “that Princess Cinnariosia goes straight back to her room.”
Redness swept up the guard’s face, from his neck all the way to the tips of his ears. (Though his hair, of course, remained the same dark brown). My gut clenched. I had forgotten that when I displeased my mother, someone else always got into trouble for it.
My mother marched off with Rapunzel—which was obviously the wiser choice on her part; the guard would be no match for my sister, and I doubted Rapunzel cared who got into trouble because of her. I still felt a faint, illogical pang of abandonment as I watched the two of them go into the garden together.
“I’m sorry,” I said to the guard.
He gave me a politely blank look. “For what, Your Highness?”
I couldn’t think of an easy way to explain. “For…for making your job more complicated?”
“My job is to protect you, Your Highness.”
I should have let it go. But there was something familiar again—in his tone, this time—and I frowned at him, trying to figure out what it was. “Well, I’m sure that would be less complicated if I stayed in my room instead of running off to visit dragons.”
The side of his mouth lifted in a grin. “If you did that, you would hardly be a princess of the Borderland. And then why would you be worth protecting?”
I froze. Not because of his words, but because of that grin. It transformed his face, and suddenly I knew who he reminded me of.
“Are you Kai’s brother?” I blurted out.
He blinked. “No. I’m his cousin.”
My throat felt clogged. Even if I had known what to say, I couldn’t have said it.
His grin was gone now, and without it, he didn’t look anything like Kai. He turned without another word and led me to my room.
I trailed behind him, trying to think around the ache in my chest. Kai’s family were longtime servants of the crown, which meant his cousin, likely, had grown up in the castle. He looked only a few years older than Rapunzel, so he would have been eight or nine when she was taken. Old enough, possibly, to remember things. And if anyone had studied my sister’s disappearance, it had to be the castle guard.
“How exactly are you protecting me?” I asked.
He glanced at me over his shoulder. “I’m sorry, Your Highness, if you feel that I’m not doing an adequate job. But if I may point out, I tried to stop you from going to the dragon roost.”
My face and hair flushed, and I mumbled, “Yes. Sorry.”
He looked straight ahead.
“But that’s not what I meant. If the fae come to take me…or my sister…how would you guard against it? How exactly did they steal her last time?”
“You don’t need to worry, Your Highness. We won’t let it happen again.”
“I’m sure you won’t. But that’s a little vague. Can you give me more details?”
He stopped at the door of my room and looked down at me. Another guard, standing sentry, watched us from farther down the hall. “I know the fae creature’s threat must have rattled you.”
“Can you blame me?” I said. “If you explain what happened to Rapunzel, and how the guard has adjusted its tactics, I can help make sure I don’t accidentally interfere with your plans.”
I was rather proud of that sentence. But Kai’s cousin looked amused. “Don’t worry about that, Princess. We’ve designed our plans so they’re not easily interfered with.”
I wanted to punch him, except that wouldn’t have helped.
“You are safe, Princess Cinnariosia. Leave the worrying to us.”
Maybe it would be worth punching him after all. But as I was considering it, he rapped on the door of my room.
Which was when I remembered that I was supposed to have geography lessons that morning.
I wondered if Rapunzel would have to take lessons. I tried to imagine her memorizing capitals and dynasties, or going over a tax question twelve times to make sure she understood the calculations, or reading a twenty-page treaty written in a foreign language fifty years ago.
