Forbidden Fairytales- The Complete Series

by Caroline Peckham

  “Gracious what a face,” she said, grimacing at me. “You're supposed to be the most beautiful woman in Osaria and you constantly look like you've got camel dung on your upper lip. Whatever will your new husband think when he's presented with this morose bride?”

  I wrinkled my nose, knowing I was only increasing the expression she so deeply hated.

  “Oh well, perhaps it's not worth the bother of the wedding. My husband will only be disappointed.”

  She clucked her tongue. “Well we can always skip the formal pageant if you wish to simply marry my son.”

  I let her see the disgust on my face at that offer. Her son had promptly been brought to the palace the moment Father had married Gothel. Kahn made my stomach turn. I'd rather actually smear shit under my nose for the rest of time than marry him. And the worst thing was, I knew he was offering himself as a suitor. He'd only seen me under a veil, like all the men in the kingdom bar my father and the royal guard who'd lost his life because of it.

  All of my attendants were women but the guards were male – of course – and I had to cover my face just to walk past them. What did they think was going to happen if they saw me? Would they fall onto their own swords lest their hearts be consumed by my beauty? The one who'd actually seen me had just sort of...stared. And then Gothel had thrown him to the guards outside while I'd screamed about the injustice of him being put to death for such a trivial thing.

  “Rapunzel,” Gothel snarled. She had a very short temper and I got to the end of her fuse at least five times a day. My personal record had been a triumphant eight and I'd giggled myself to sleep that night after what I'd told her. “You know, when you purse your lips like that, Gothel, they look like a cat's butthole.”

  “Gothel?” I responded airily, whirling away from her so my pale blue dress twirled around my legs.

  She hounded after me and I knew she'd come here for a reason. She always beat about the bush, never getting to the point. I wondered if it was because she liked the sound of her own voice so much, or maybe it was just because I was her favourite chew toy. But since I'd reached womanhood she was finding it harder and harder to get a rise out of me.

  “You know blue doesn't suit you, I don't know why you insist on wearing it,” she said sharply.

  “It's my favourite colour.”

  “It washes you out.”

  “I don't care,” I sang. “No man can look at me anyway.”

  “They will,” she growled.

  “And I will be wearing blue when they do.” I smiled broadly and her scowl deepened, etching lines into her smooth forehead. She was achingly beautiful and she knew it. She used it like a weapon. My father had fallen for that face the day they’d met and I’d vowed ever since I’d never use my looks to manipulate anyone. I wanted to be appreciated for merits beyond my appearance, but Gothel had never understood that. “Why do you bother practising sword fighting, Rapunzel? Your future husband will be adept at that.”

  “Why do you read so much, my dear? Brains aren’t required of pretty faces.”

  “Why ask about politics, my sweet? Laws are only made by men.”

  “Kahn would like to spend some time with you,” Gothel announced.

  And there it was. The real reason she was here.

  “That's against the rules,” I said, serious this time. I didn't want Kahn sniffing around me any more than he already had. And the rules stated that I didn't meet my suitors formally until the first day of the pageant.

  Gothel smiled broadly, raising her hands in innocence. “Rules can be bent. I am your father's queen after all. In fact, I already mentioned it to him and he's quite delighted by the idea.”

  I ground my teeth, working hard not to let her get under my skin. But she was worming her way in there and I didn't know if I could stop her this time. If there was one way to upset me, it was mentioning marriage. And worse than that, marriage to Kahn. The guy was the size of a mountain and his face screamed ogre. Nothing else. Big ears, fat jaw, dumb face. If he had a personality in that thick skull of his, it was playing hide and seek. And it was winning a twenty two year long game.

  I was his intelectual superior on a thousand levels. And he still expected me to- to-

  “I can see you're upset,” Gothel said, all sweetness now she wanted something from me. I wasn't going to agree to this if I got a choice. But if father had given his consent, I didn't know how I could avoid it.

  “It's against the rules. I don't care what Father said. The kingdom would be outraged if Kahn was given an unfair advantage.” In all honesty, I didn't think it would be any kind of advantage to him. If he came near me all he was going to realise was how sick to the stomach he made me.

  Maybe throwing up in his face is key to him refusing to marry me though...

  “It is not against the rules to be around a man who lives in the palace and who happens to come across you dining on the veranda,” Gothel said slyly.

  “That sounds very pre-empted, Gothel. I don't think Kahn would happen across anything of the sort unless you gave him directions. And even then I'm pretty sure he'd mix up his left and right.”

  Gothel's eyes darkened to deepest nightshade. “My son is the finest suitor in the kingdom. To even suggest such a boy who was birthed from an accomplished woman such as myself could be anything but worthy is an insult to me.”

  “Well I suppose I just insulted you then.” I shrugged, tugging my golden locks over my shoulders and running my fingers through them.

  Kahn hadn't inherited his mother's beauty. But what he lacked in looks he made up for in sheer size. He looked like two wildebeests stitched together. Roughly.

  “Kahn will be the strongest competitor in the pageant no matter what you think of him. Your hand is already his but if you insist on going through the formalities then so be it.” She marched out of the room and I rolled my eyes at the back of her head.

  “So be it,” I mimicked her, jumping up onto my window seat and brushing my fingers over the pink silk of the cushion. I pushed the frosted window open a crack. It only opened a crack anyway. Two inches. To stop me from throwing myself out? Maybe. I'd never figured it out. All I knew was that two inches wasn't enough to allow in the full breeze I craved. I wanted to smell the market, the fish brought back from the river, the herbs and fruit and sizzling spices on an iron pan. But all I smelled was Gothel's sickly sweet perfume left in her wake and the scent of incense carrying from the bathhouse.

  The only time I ever got to go outside the palace walls was when I was veiled, sat on top of a cushioned platform and carried on the shoulders of my royal guards, paraded through the kingdom's streets to be gawped at. The people wondered at what lay beneath the veil, they marvelled at the glimpse of my hands beneath layers of silk which were so stifling under the midday sun I was always tempted to rip them off.

  Maybe I should have. Maybe next time I was carried about like a prized monkey, I'd take my veil off and see what the people really thought of me then. Because what the hell did it matter anyway? Okay, I liked my face. And yes, I had to admit the setting of my features was remarkably symmetrical. My lips were a deep cherry red and my amber eyes were enormous. But holy shit, who cared? I mean really, it was just a face. Just a body.

  I'd seen women out in those streets who had much more allure about them. All shapes and sizes, curvy, flat-chested, small-lipped, big breasted, every piece of skin pierced or tattooed. They were all beautiful in different ways. So why was I being prized? I'd trade in my unusual golden hair in a heartbeat to just walk outside these palace walls and have a chance at a real life. Without a man. Who needed a man anyway? I'd survived eighteen years without one. And my father did not count seeing as he’d been under the thumb of Gothel for years. Since she'd taken up my mother’s position as his queen, she only had to suggest a change to the kingdom's laws and he fell on it ravenously like he didn't have a brain of his own anymore. I didn’t expect other men were like that, but I never got to speak with the opposite sex to check.r />
  I'd tried once. One guard. One time.

  “Nice weather today,” I'd said. He'd murmured something which to this day I was still sure was something about sunbeams in his eyes and then he'd stared at the wall until I'd walked away.

  What was with them? Were we a totally different species? Was I completely ignorant of how to converse with one of them in their own language?

  I released a huff, giving up on trying to decipher men until I'd be forced to do so during the pageant. Until then I'd have to settle for the tripe that came out of my attendants' mouths. There was only one of them who ever held a decent conversation with me. And she was like a shining ray of light amongst the drivel pouring from the mouths of the other girls. Constant compliments. I'd liked it when I was younger, now I despised it. A compliment was only worth something if it was made about who you were, not what you were. But they all dwelled on the superficial things I'd heard a million times. One of my newest attendants had been getting pretty creative with her compliments.

  “Your lips are as red as the blood of a thousand battles, pouring into a river under the light of a full moon.”

  Calm down Jacinda.

  I sighed, eyeing the tiny glimpse of the city through the gap in the frosted window.

  One day, I'm going to go outside these walls. And no Emperor, no man and no queen is ever going to tell me no again.

  Twenty thousand years was such a long time to be alone.

  I missed the sun. And the stars. And the moon. Oh the moon was my favourite. After the sun and the stars. Third favourite for sure. It was so round and... no not round... it was egg shaped and yellowy blue and...

  Stop thinking about the moon it always drives you insane.

  It wasn’t the moon that drove me insane, it was the sea. Swishing and swirling, drawing in and out with a sound which was so relaxing. But which had eventually driven me to madness. I could almost remember it if I concentrated, the way the light caught on the crest of each wave-

  Well the sea never used to be orange...

  I shook my head in defeat. It was so hard to remember what was real these days. It was like trying to hold sand in my hands. At first it had seemed easy but over time, bit by bit, the details were falling away.

  Six thousand days was such a long time to be alone.

  I sighed, leaning my head back against the curved, bronze wall. Was I smaller while I was in here or was the lamp bigger? No one ever told me that. It was the kind of thing I should have known. But I didn’t. And anyone who could have told me was long since dead.

  Four hundred months was such a long time to be alone.

  I thought about my sister and how her green eyes used to sparkle with so much love when she looked at me.

  Brown eyes, idiot.

  I frowned. Brown? No hers were green and mine were brown. Weren’t they? My heart ached as that detail was tangled in my memory and I could no longer picture her at all. I’d lost the sound of her laughter first. That had been taken from her when he’d killed her anyway. Then I’d lost the warmth of her smile. And the memory of her hand in mine. The sound of her voice was gone forever more. And I’d only had her eyes left. Now they were gone too.

  A tear slipped from my eye and ran down my cheek, tumbling over my chest before falling into a glimmering pool at the bottom of my lamp.

  I stretched my leg towards the water and the soft shoe I was wearing fizzled away, leaving my foot bare so that I could dip it in.

  The water was warm. So warm, it sent a chill down my spine.

  That’s not right, moron. You’re confusing warm and cold again.

  But didn’t cold burn? No, no I was right, or other me was anyway, cold was the shivery one. I withdrew my foot from the pool of tears and a shoe reappeared to warm my bronze skin.

  Eight million nights was such a long time to be alone.

  I drew my long hair over my shoulder, twisting my fingers through it as it shimmered red then pink, blue, purple, orange. Every colour. Any colour.

  I should match it to my sister’s to help me remember her.

  I stroked the length of my locks, willing them to take on the colour of my sister’s hair and they eventually settled on purple. I smiled as I waited for the memory to form around the colour, willing my fractured mind to draw up an image of the girl I’d loved so dearly.

  People don’t have purple hair, idiot.

  I frowned at my hair. That couldn’t be right. Because my hair was purple and I was people so how could my hair be purple if I was people but people didn’t have purple hair? Were there purple people? Or maybe-

  I hate you.

  I dropped my hold on my hair as the somber thought which I always fought against echoed through the empty space. If I hated myself and there was no one else then what did that leave me with?

  Fifty thousand years was such a long time to be alone.

  I chewed my lip. Within this bronze prison, my magic was mine, I could use it for my own to do anything I so desired. Except leave. Or kill myself. I’d tried to do both more times than I could count though.

  Genie of the lamp.

  Perhaps today would be the day. Someone would find the hidden trove of the sorcerer’s treasures and claim my lamp for their own.

  When he’d first cursed me I’d sworn I’d never bow to the will of any master. I’d made every effort to grant wishes in the way they’d never been intended. Wish for immortality? I’d turned her into a tree which could never die. Wish for endless riches? I’d made sure that he drowned in the money he so desperately desired. It had helped for a little while. Until I’d realised that if people saw my wishes as a curse they’d no longer desire them. They’d cast me away. Hide me in a dark, forgotten corner of the world and lose me to the endless echoes of time.

  So who did you punish in the end?

  Myself.

  I prayed that someone would find my lamp. If I ever got to leave the confines of this infernal thing again then I’d make every effort to make sure their wishes were the best that they could be. No more tricks. No more lies or half truths. I would use my power in exactly the way they wanted.

  Seventeen days was such a long time to spend alone.

  My sister had once told me that so long as I kept love locked in my heart I’d never truly feel pain. And she was right. For a while. My love for her had sustained me. The justice I’d dealt had burned with a sense of what was right.

  Even now, when her face was lost to me and her words were nothing but fleeting whispers in the dark void of my mind, I didn’t doubt my choice.

  That man had killed her. Taken the kindest, purest soul I’d ever met and murdered her for no other reason than power.

  And so I’d killed him in return.

  I’d taken my knife and stabbed and stabbed and stabbed. I hadn’t forgotten the colour of that. Red, red, red.

  I didn’t care that he was an Emperor. It didn’t matter to me. Just because he was more powerful than us didn’t mean her life was his to end.

  I wished I’d never done it. But not because I wished he had lived. Or that I hadn’t been cursed. I wished I’d never had to. That my sister would have lived. And that I could have looked into her blue eyes for the rest of our years.

  Brown eyes. I hate you more than I could ever say.

  “I want to die.” Sometimes I spoke aloud like that but I didn’t really like the way my voice sounded in this small space. It bounced about and came back at me. Taunting me with my own words.

  Five minutes was a hell of a long time to be alone.

  I closed my eyes. Sometimes the places my mind conjured up for me to go were so beautiful that I could just sit there for days and bathe in them.

  But I couldn’t remember the moon anymore. Or the sky, or the trees. They were lost to me. Like my sister. And everything else I’d ever known.

  Lost, lost in the woods, surrounded by clouds and stones...

  I wish you would burn up. Turn to ash and blow away on the wind so that I never had to listen t
o you again.

  My mind couldn’t conjure anywhere for me today and I tilted my head back as I opened my eyes and looked up at the sealed lid above me.

  I ached to feel the warmth of a mortal’s touch on the bronze shell which housed my soul. I would grant their wishes in the greatest way imaginable.

  The sorcerer who’d cursed me was dead, dead, dead. Long since beyond any chance for me to get revenge. He’d hoarded my power then hidden me here. Such a long time ago.

  Too long. Not long enough. In a far away time and place.

  It wasn’t fair.

  You promised not to bring fair into it anymore.

  I clucked my tongue in irritation. Who was I to tell me what to do? It wasn’t fair and knowing that didn’t mean anything. It didn’t change anything. But it was true. I just needed to get over the idea of fair and not fair. None of it was fair. Granted, I’d never been the one who was on the upside of these supposed scales so maybe if I’d been the one with the good fortune I may have had a different opinion on fair.

  Perhaps you should drown yourself in those tears. They can’t leave here any more than you can. That’ll be your fate in the end anyway. One day they’ll rise so high you’ll have no choice but to drown in them.

  The silence echoed on forever.

  One moment was such a long time to be alone...

  I shifted against the wall multiple times, the scent of shit in this place making my stomach turn. Had nobody in this dungeon ever heard of soapy water and a mop? Because I really needed to inform them about it if they hadn't. It felt like my skin was itching from all the filth surrounding me. I was used to clean clothes, a sparkling home and a toilet that was more than a hole in the ground. Like a lot more.

  “Why are you acting like there's ants crawling all over you?” Aladdin asked.

  “Because I'm not used to living in these conditions. A pig is treated better than this,” I snarled, getting to my feet when it became too much to bear.

  I wiped my hands down my tattered pants, eyeing Aladdin through the bars. He was sprawled out, his head cupped in his hands as if he was currently basking on a beach under the beating sun.