“He’ll be fine, Parsley,” Harry said, and I shivered, for his voice seemed cold. “His head will probably be sore for a day or so. I’d thought better of you, I must admit.”
“What are you talking about?” I demanded crossly. “And keep your voice down. I don’t want to wake up Rue.”
“Now why could that be, I wonder?” Harry inquired. “It couldn’t have anything to do with the fact that you’re planning to sneak off and leave her with nothing, I suppose?”
“Of course I’m not planning to do that,” I said. “What are you talking about?”
“Come back tomorrow night, Alex,” Harry said, in a not particularly flattering imitation of my voice. “Stay hidden during the day, so I’ll know that you’ll be safe.”
“You think I’d do that,” I said, a statement, not a question. “You think I’d turn my back on Melisande and her daughter while the promises I made them both are still warm in my mouth. Are you sure you’re not judging me by yourself, Harry? You were the one who once planned to steal a horse belonging to a man who’d saved you from death itself, as I recall.”
“Don’t think you can make yourself look better by throwing my past in my face,” Harry said. “I heard what I heard.”
“So you did,” I said. “And now you can hear this as well: Good night.”
I turned to go.
“Don’t walk away. Don’t you dare walk away from me, Rapunzel,” Harry cried. “You owe me an explanation.”
“I don’t owe you a thing,” I said, and wondered that I could speak at all for the way the words scalded my throat. This was what he thought of me, then. That I had so little spine, so little honor, that I would leave Rue to an unhappy fate and break my own word in less than a night.
“My debt is to the sorceress and her daughter. I mean to pay it in whatever way I can. Don’t think that you can judge me, tinker’s boy.”
“Why must you always do that?” he demanded.
“Do what?”
“Call me by the one name you know I dislike the very most.”
“I suppose that would be why,” I said. “Just as that’s why you call me Parsley.”
“Your name is Parsley,” he said.
“My name means parsley,” I replied. “It’s not the same thing at all. Go to bed, Harry. It’s been a long day. But first, make sure Alexander is all right.”
“He’s really that important to you,” Harry said.
“Yes,” I replied. “He’s really that important.”
Not just to me, but to all of us, I thought.
I know what some of you are thinking: Why didn’t I just come right out and tell him? Why didn’t I explain what I had in mind? Here is the only answer I can give you: If you have to ask, you’ve never been in love. More than that, you’ve never had your feelings hurt by the one you want to trust and cherish you most of all.
So I did not explain why Prince Alexander was so important to me. I would let that be a lesson the tinker’s boy learned for himself.
In time. If all went well.
“There’s a woodcutter’s cottage, not far within the trees,” Harry said. “It’s old, but still well made and snug. I suppose there could be room for more than one. But don’t expect me to wait on him or do his bidding. I wouldn’t get your hopes up too high. He’ll probably give up and wander off.”
“Thank you, Harry,” I said.
“I don’t want your thanks,” he answered shortly. “I’m not doing it for you. I’m doing it for Mr. Jones, and for Melisande. You’re not the only one who knows how to discharge a debt.”
“Thank you anyway,” I said.
But my words were met with silence. Though I stayed on the balcony for many moments, listening with all my might, I heard only the sound of my own heart, and, high above my head, the wind, whispering secrets to the cold, unheeding stars.
“No!” Rue said. “Absolutely not!”
It was early evening on the second day. I had put off telling Rue what had happened for as long as I felt I could, a choice that had given me new sympathy for Melisande. There’s something about knowing you have to tell someone something you know equally well they won’t want to hear that definitely encourages you to hold your tongue.
I had to tell Rue sooner or later, though. The sun was about to go down.
“But it’s the perfect solution. Don’t you see?” I asked. “He already fancies himself half in love.”
“With you” Rue said. “Half in love with you. I’m not a charity case, thank you very much. Besides, what’s he going to do, call me Rapunzel?”
“What does it matter what he calls you?” I asked. “What’s important is that he thinks it’s love.”
“But it would be a lie,” Rue said. “A lie from the very beginning. How can a lie grow into true love?”
It was a good question, I had to admit, and one I had spent most of the day grappling with myself. I wasn’t stupid. I could see the potential flaws in the plan I’d dreamed up so suddenly the night before, but I still thought it was worth a try.
Handsome princes lost in forests, and ones desperate to escape marrying the neighboring kings daughter to boot, weren’t likely to come along very often. Personally, I saw no reason not to take advantage of the one we had, though I had to admit that the phrase “take advantage of” had a somewhat unfortunate ring, given what I was so eagerly proposing.
“The wizard who put you here turned love into a prison,” I said. “That’s not right either.”
“So now two wrongs really do make a right? Is that what you’re saying?” Rue asked crossly.
She was sitting at her loom, her fingers moving the shuttle back and forth in quick, irritated motions. Mr. Jones watched at her feet, his tail switching back and forth, waiting for the opportunity to pounce.
“Of course not,” I confessed. “I’m just trying to point out that it’s not always possible to see the end of something at its start.”
“Very poetic,” Rue said. She gave the shuttle another shove. Mr. Jones’s head followed the movement of the shutde. “But poetry is just words.”
“You see, that’s just what I mean!” I cried. “That’s just the sort of thing I said to Alex, to Prince Alexander, last night. All you have to do is talk to him the same way you talk to me, and he’ll never know the difference between us.
“Just go out and meet him,” I urged. “Please, Rue. We’re running out of time. I know this plan isn’t beautiful and noble, but it’s the only one we’ve got.”
She was silent, frowning at the loom, but I noticed her fingers moved the shuttle more smoothly now.
“You realize this means you’d owe me a favor,” she said. “This is twice you’ve asked for something now. I’ve only asked you for one thing. You’d be in my debt.”
“I don’t think that’s quite the way it’s supposed to work between friends,” I said.
“Friends,” she echoed, and she turned her head and looked at me with those violet eyes. “Friends,” she said again. “Is that what we are?”
“Maybe not yet,” I acknowledged. “But isn’t that what we’re working toward?”
“I honestly don’t know,” she said. “I guess so.” She stopped weaving altogether. The second she stopped moving, Mr. Jones jumped. For a moment I feared he was aiming for the loom. But instead he landed on Rue’s lap, turning around three times, then settling in right where he was. I watched as her fingers absently stroked his fur.
“Waking up is hard work,” she admitted after a moment. “Harder than I thought it would be. I was picturing—oh, I don’t know—something more glamorous and a whole lot easier, I suppose.”
“Sort of like a knight in shining armor?” I supplied.
She smiled at that, a smile that matched her name. A rueful smile. “It’s just a dream,” she said.
“Maybe,” I answered. “Maybe not. Maybe all young men who love us become knights in shining armor when we love them back. Even if they don’t, Prince Alexander comes pretty close all on his o
wn.”
“But he thinks he loves you,” she protested.
“Of course he thinks he loves me,” I said. “He thinks that I’m a damsel in distress, trapped by enchantment in this tower. I’m not, and we both know it. I’m the one who stayed here of her own free will. You’re the one who’s trapped. So which one of us does he think he’s in love with now?”
“You’re giving me a headache, Rapunzel,” Rue said.
“It’s one of my best talents,” I said. “And that was a yes, wasn’t it?”
She bent over then and buried her face in Mr. Jones’s copper-colored fur. “Yes, that’s a yes,” she said after a moment. “I will meet this prince of yours.”
“Of yours,” I said firmly, as I got to my feet. “And remember, he likes to be called Alex.”
She didn’t speak again, not right away, but as we watched the sun go down in a blaze of orange in the river, I could swear I heard her practicing.
“Alex,” she whispered. “Alex. Alex. Alex.”
Sixteen
“I thought you weren’t coming.”
Of course I was coming, I opened my mouth to say. I was standing on the tower balcony, halfway between the windows and the railing, close enough to hear Alexander’s voice but still be out of sight.
I’ve been looking forward to seeing you all day. Besides, it’s not as if I have much else to do. I’m trapped up here, if you recall
But instead, I bit down on the tip of my tongue and said nothing. For now it was Rue’s turn to speak, to put in motion a sequence of events that would awaken her heart, win her a princes love, and gain back her freedom, all at the same time. All she had to do was open her mouth and speak to Alex.
As opposed to what she was doing right this very moment, which was standing in one of the balcony’s big casement windows, neither quite inside nor out, behaving precisely as if she’d just come down with a terminal case of laryngitis.
“Don’t just stand there,” I hissed over my shoulder. “Come out where he can see you. Say something.”
“In a minute,” she hissed back. “I’m working up to it. Don’t rush me.”
“I know you’re there,” Alexander called up. “Look, I brought a torch. Now we’ll be able to see each other.”
And the soldiers, if they re still around, will be able to spot you, I thought. I’ll bet Harry had a hand in this.
“Just walk forward, as slowly as you like, until you reach the railing,” I whispered to Rue. “Go see what he looks like. Trust me, the moment he sees you, matters will start to take care of themselves.”
“You don’t know that,” Rue whispered back.
Oh, yes I do, I thought. “If you don’t come out on your own two feet, I’m going to drag you out by your hair,” I said.
“You wouldn’t,” Rue breathed. “My hair weighs more than you do. You’re not strong enough.”
“Look,” I said, grasping my patience firmly with both hands instead of Rue’s hair. “Just pretend you’re taking medicine. Do it quickly and get it over with. I’m going to count to three.”
“All right. All right,” Rue said. “I’m coming. There’s no need to—”
“Treat you like a child. I know,” I said.
She stepped all the way onto the balcony and began to make her way toward the railing, Mr. Jones trailing along behind. As she passed me, I reached out to clasp her hand, then scooped up Mr. Jones. Five steps. Now eight. Now twelve. Then, at last, she stopped, and I saw her hands come up to grip the railing and hold it tightly. Perhaps it was simply the starlight reflecting off of all that golden hair, but it seemed to me that she glimmered like the last glow of twilight.
For fifteen beats of my heart, the same number of steps it had taken Rue to cross the balcony, she looked down, and the prince looked up.
“You are beautiful,” Alexander said. “Even more beautiful than I spent all day imagining, my Rapunzel.”
No, no! I thought. For, though highly poetical and romantic, it was altogether the wrong thing to say. It accomplished exactly what the sight of Alex had managed to make Rue forget: She was not Rapunzel. She turned abruptly from the railing and took two staggering steps away.
“Where are you going?” Alexander cried, and I could hear the pain and confusion in his voice. “I’ve waited all day, just as you asked. Now you won’t even speak to me. What have I done?”
Without warning, Mr. Jones dug his claws into my unprotected neck. Stifling a cry, I let him go. He bounded across the balcony toward Rue. At the sight of him, her footsteps faltered. She went to one knee and gathered him up into her arms.
“What is it, Rapunzel?” Alexander asked. “Are you unwell?”
Rue lifted her head then, and her dark eyes looked straight into mine. You are a cruel and selfish creature, Rapunzel, I thought. For Rue’s eyes shimmered with unshed tears. Her heart was well and truly awake now. I had forced it out into the open before it was ready, then left it, defenseless, to fend for itself. All it had taken to wound it had been the sounding of my name.
So I did the only thing I could. The only thing my eyes and heart could see to do, in that dark night.
“I’m fine,” I spoke. “It’s just—”
“I know I look a little funny,” Alex interrupted, the relief plain in his voice. “I’m sorry. I meant to say something, to warn you, but when I saw you, every single thought seemed to go right out of my head.”
“There you go, sounding like a prince again,” I scolded. “I thought we agreed we didn’t need so many pretty words. What really happened?”
“I’m not sure I want to tell you,” Alexander said. “It’s too embarrassing. Let’s just say I’ll never make a good forester and leave it at that.”
“Very well,” I said. “If you say so.”
“You’re sure you’re all right?” he asked again.
“I’m fine, Alex.”
“Then come back out where I can see you.”
At this, Rue made a distressed sound and shook her head. “I’m sorry. I can’t do that,” I said. “At least not for a few moments.”
“I don’t understand you tonight at all,” Alexander said. “You seem so different. Don’t you want to see me?”
“Of course I do,” I said. “But this isn’t some courtly game, Alex. You are free to walk away when-ever you want, but I am trapped. It will take more than pretty words to set me free.”
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean to sound false. What would you like me to say?”
“Tell me how you spent your day,” I said.
“I made a friend,” he replied at once, then laughed. Rue’s head tilted toward the sound. “Listen to me,” he said. “I sound like a five-year-old.”
“A friend. That sounds promising. I’m happy to think you’re not alone.”
“His name is Harry,” Alexander said. “I’m not so sure he thinks very much of me. He spent most of the day mumbling about useless princelings who can’t see what’s right in front of them. It has to do with what happened to my face. I think he was trying to be insulting.”
Rue had turned her head to one side now, as if the better to hear Alexander’s voice.
This can still work, I told myself. Just keep talking.
“Yet you call him a friend,” I commented.
“I do,” Alex said, and he laughed once more. “He may not think much of me, but I like him. He’s certainly a change from fawning courtiers and mealy-mouthed ambassadors. He has said that I may stay with him in the woodcutter’s cottage, but not if I expect to be waited on. I wanted him to come with me tonight, so that I could introduce him. But he claims it’s unnecessary, for you’ve already met.”
“I have met Harry,” I said.
“How long have you been in this place?” Alex suddenly asked, and I saw Rue wince.
“I’m not sure I know,” I answered. “I don’t think time has always moved in the same way for me as it has for everyone else.”
“Have you no companions?” A
lex asked.
“I have a cat named Mr. Jones,” I said.
There was a beat of silence.
“I think,” Alexander said at last, “that life in your tower must be very lonely. I meant what I said. I would like to find the way to free you.”
“Because you feel sorry for me,” I said.
“Because I love you,” he answered.
I heard Rue pull in one shaking breath.
“How can you love me?” I asked.” We just met. Do you think love is a first impression and nothing more?”
“Of course not,” Alexander said. “I have seen love. I can hardly claim to be an expert, but I think I know the real thing when I see it.”
“Where have you seen love?” I asked. For it came to me, in that moment, that I had never seen it for myself. Not the kind of love I wished for Rue, anyway. Nor the kind I wished for myself.
“There is a tale in my country,” Alex said, by way of answer. “It is told to old people when they fall ill. Young ones hear it as they fall asleep at night. It tells of the days when a blight hung over our land. Nothing prospered. Nothing flourished. Not even zucchini would grow.”
“It must have been a terrible blight indeed, if that were true,” I said without thinking. Alex laughed, and it was a joyful sound.
“To tell you the truth,” he confided, “I’ve never liked zucchini very much. But it does grow just about anywhere, so you have some sense of how bad things were.”
“I do,” I said. “I’m sorry for interrupting. Please, go on.”
“The king of that time decided there was only one remedy,” Alex continued. “He must marry his son to the wealthiest princess he could find, and hope that her dowry would help provide the means to bring the country back to life. This king’s son was much more dutiful than I am. He met the girl his father had chosen on one day, married her on the second, and on the third, he brought her home to his castle, which was not much more than a pile of drafty stone. The princess took one look at it and said, ‘I am now your wife. I have promised to honor and to cherish you, though I never promised to obey, for I have a mind of my own. Most of all, I have promised that I will find the way to love you truly. This, though I hardly even know you, for our acquaintance is no more than three days old. For these promises that I have made, and the ones you made in return, all on behalf of others, I would like to ask you to grant me one wish for myself alone.’
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