Rescuing Rapunzel

by Candice Gilmer

  I smiled at him as we walked to the window and I lowered my hair. He watched the ells fall.

  “How you manage to control the weight of those tresses is a wonder.”

  I shrugged. “The plaits are easier to manage when they are bound into one braid.”

  He glanced at the last of the hair, sliding from the floor, out the window, until it reached my head, and I stumbled.

  He caught my arm. “The tresses are heavy.”

  I smiled. “The hair is woven into braids, so they are plaits of hair, not tresses. Tresses would signify loose hair.” I twisted my head back and forth, hoping to illustrate my point, anything to distract from my disappointment at the lack of contact with Nick.

  I wondered if he missed the connection as well, for he touched my cheek, his finger slipping into a loose strand, too short to work into the braid. “Here is a tress.”

  I reached for the hair, ignoring the hum my body made, and pulled it from his fingers, quickly braiding it. “It is a plait.”

  “There is a tress over here…” he said with a smile, snagging the hair and twirling it around his finger.

  I growled, pulling the piece away.

  He smiled. “My little Tressey…” He touched my cheek. “Does it hurt?” He stroked one of the short hairs around my face out of my eyes.

  “What?”

  “When I climb. Does it hurt?”

  “No.” My skin prickled as he ran his fingers over my temple, along my jaw, lingering just under my chin. Any frustration I felt from his teasing faded into nothing.

  “Good,” he said, leaning closer and pressing a soft kiss against my lips.

  Lightning flowed through my veins, even though the kiss only lasted a moment. It was barely a touch but it felt singed into my mind and the moment for all time. He slid his lips across mine–the barest of touches–and my body ignited. The kiss ended, too soon, and I was once again separate from him.

  “Good night, Tressey,” Nick whispered, caressing my cheek with his thumb. He turned to the window and started to climb down.

  “Good night.” I watched him move down the braids as though he had done it a hundred times. As he walked through the garden and out the door, I could not help grinning. I watched until I could no longer see him, then I turned to the sky, and the stars twinkling in the night.

  Chapter 20

  The swish of the many layers of a female’s skirt gave Nick pause.

  Damn, he was being followed.

  Again.

  He had considered using the servant’s entrance, but in the end decided to take the main corridor through the castle–it was closer to the stables.

  He had woken this morning thinking he was finally free to do what he had been wanting to do since the moment he left the tower–go back to Rapunzel. Her singing had become a constant melody in his mind and, even now, he could feel the press of her lips against his.

  He needed to see her again.

  Badly.

  It seemed, however, that was not in the stars for his day.

  The rustling behind him closed in on him. Was it his sister again? He hoped so, for at least Kiki could be ignored, regardless of propriety.

  He paused, adjusted his riding boots and glanced back. Drat.

  “Lady Eva.” He stood to greet her.

  She paused–obviously unsettled to be caught in her pursuit–but recovered her coquettish smile in a breath. “My Lord von Hohburg.” Her curtsey was even lower this time, as was the cut of her gown.

  He clenched his hands behind his back and looked away until she rose, which seemed to take an inordinately long time. He barely managed to stifle a sigh of impatience. Not only was she delaying him, he would have to dredge up the proper manner of small talk for her.

  Why had he not kept walking? “How are you this evening, my lady?”

  “Very well, thank you, my lord.” She twisted to the side, pushing out her bosom, a smile on her face. “You seem to be in quite a hurry, my lord. What takes you away from the castle in such a rush today?”

  “I am going for a ride. In the Black Forest.”

  Lady Eva’s face paled for a moment, before regaining color. “Why on earth would you want to go there? It is a horrible place, dark and dangerous. Surely a man of your stature could find somewhere more suitable to ride?” She ran her fingers along the neckline of her dress as she spoke.

  “I find it peaceful.”

  “Truly? With robbers lying in wait for unsuspecting travelers? You are a strange one, my lord, finding peace in such chaos.” She rolled her eyes.

  “The Black Forest is not nearly as dangerous as it used to be. Now if you will excuse me.” Nick started to head toward the main entrance again.

  “I doubt you will find what you seek in the woods. Only in the arms of a wife will you find that.”

  He narrowed his gaze. “You know I cannot do that.” He took a step away from her. “You must put this pursuit aside, my lady. I am not suitable.”

  She stepped forward, pushing out her bosom, yet her eyes turned cold and dark. “It is not me who needs to stop, my lord.”

  “I know not of what you speak. Good day.” He started to walk away.

  “Do not hide behind the claims of duty. Your duty is a joke, and has been for years. You cannot be the martyred son all your life.”

  Nick spun around, glaring at her. “You know nothing of my responsibilities, my lady. Do not profess otherwise.”

  She crossed her arms over her chest. “I know your responsibilities prevent you from seeing what is right in front of you.” She pressed her arms under her breasts, making certain her curves were visible. “Duty is a cold bed partner.”

  Nick froze, unable to speak, as she spun around and walked calmly back toward her rooms. His hands shook and a fire burned in his belly. How could she accuse him of not taking his duties seriously? He devoted his life to the title he would gain upon his thirtieth birthday. He did not gallivant like many men his age. He loved his family and he fulfilled his responsibilities.

  How dare she claim he hid behind them? She did not know of what she spoke. He had responsibilities, and he damn well lived up–

  Nick froze.

  One particular responsibility came to mind. The one he had written about just this morning. Was he living up to that one? Suddenly, he did not think so. He was riding off to a tower, to convince a girl to trust him enough to let him rescue her. Yet in his heart he knew it was no longer that simple. He had kissed her. He…he cared for her.

  He had to stop going. He did have responsibilities. Duties to uphold. That was what men of honor did. They stood by their word. He had to forget about the girl with the long golden hair.

  The letter in his pocket felt heavy as an anvil. His valet had penned a letter to the Duke and Duchess von Stroebel requesting another audience with them, as was required every year. He had given it no thought when the valet handed the letter to him this morning.

  Yet after speaking to Eva, the letter felt twice as sharp, a stab of a sword, right into his heart. The thought of sitting through that audience made him feel ill. Not that the von Stroebels were horrible people, far from it. They were quite kind, but filled with sorrow.

  Yet their sorrow was partially Nick’s, and he felt like the worst kind of person for not remembering that.

  He would have to tell Rapunzel.

  He headed out to the stables. Jess had already saddled Ovet and she was waiting for him, nickering in greeting. He stroked the horse’s brown nose and she sniffed him twice, before he reached into his pocket for an apple. Ovet swallowed it in an instant, thanking him with a toss of her chestnut mane.

  Jess was mucking out a stall when Nick called to him. The boy immediately ran to his side.

  Nick produced the sealed letter. “This letter needs to be delivered to Duke and Duchess von Stroebel.”

  The boy nodded. “Yes, my lord.”

  Nick climbed into the saddle. Glancing back at Jess, he tossed him a coin.

 
; The boy caught it, a grin on his face.

  “You are a fine young man, Jess. Wait for a reply and come straight back. The faster you return, the better the bonus.”

  “Yes, my lord. Right away, my lord.” He dashed off to the rear of the stables to get his own horse ready.

  Chapter 21

  Something was on Nick’s mind. I could tell from the moment he came through the window. Oh, he was quite friendly and very kind, as usual.

  Yet something lingered there, a hidden anxiety that never seemed to leave his eyes. Even when I thanked him again for the beautiful feather, he still seemed lost in thought.

  He seated himself at the table and I got the tea service. The feather lay on the table, near the stones, and as I prepared the tea, he picked it up, stroking each of the stones with it like a painter would stroke a canvas. I set the teacups and pot on the table, and he took my hand.

  “Rapunzel,” he whispered.

  “Yes?”

  He opened my hand and stroked my palm with the most delicate touch, using the soft edges of the feather.

  My breath caught in my throat. He circled my palm, and each caress sent lightning through my body, making my insides light on fire.

  He brushed the feather along my palm, until he reached my pinky finger, and then let it slide to the tip and back to the center. My body felt both tense and relaxed at the same time, like a coil had tightened inside me, yet it was one that wanted to be tightened.

  He repeated the gesture with each of my fingers, sending shudders of delight through me.

  I did not realize I held my breath until he paused, caressed the center of my palm and lifted the feather away.

  “Feathers are so soft.” Nick stared at me as he spoke, his eyelids heavy and his eyes deepening to a darker, midnight blue. The look alone sent a violent shiver through me.

  The tension that had filled the room on his arrival had disappeared, replaced with the passion I saw in his eyes. I stepped backward, grabbing the chair for support, since my hands had started to tremble under his gaze.

  “Are you cold, Rapunzel?” His voice was deeper and more resonating than before. I could not explain it, but those few words sent more shivers through me, and I wrapped my arms around my body. I was not sure if it was cold, but the expression on his face certainly made me feel exposed.

  He stood directly in front of me. “Tressey,” he whispered, sending another shiver through me.

  Everything in the room seemed magnified–the shadows darker, the light even brighter. The crackle of the fire louder than usual. The air, suddenly thick and heavy with anticipation.

  Nick put his hands on my shoulders and the heat burned my skin, sending pulses through my body.

  Rising to meet him, I tipped my head to see his expression, a mix of emotions that I did not understand–both caring and sadness hiding in his eyes. His gaze traveled down my face to my throat. So intense, it felt physical. His breath dusted my skin. His mouth opened, just slightly.

  My lip quivered.

  Nick leaned closer. My heart hammered in my chest and I knew not what to do. I was rooted to the spot, unsure if I should move or stay still. He stroked my cheek with the back of his hand, and it seemed his touch sparked my skin to flames.

  Words burned behind his eyes, so powerful, I could feel them, yet I knew not what they were. I opened my mouth to ask, but he closed my lips with a brush of his finger.

  “I have…”

  I reached for him, wrapping my arms around his neck. Thunder roared through me as I held him, staring into his eyes. As close as we were, he could not hide his torment.

  “Please,” I said, though I knew not what I asked for, except that I craved touching him, if only to ease his burden, to soften the worry that marred his brow. “How can I make it better?”

  His forehead touched mine. “I cannot bear to think of you trapped here, Tressey, but I also cannot force you to leave. I will come to you, every day for the rest of my life, if that is what it takes to convince you.”

  I stood on my toes, pressing my lips to his.

  He let out a groan, and when his lips moved against mine the most delicious sensation rippled through me. The first kiss we shared was nothing like this. It seemed chaste and barren in comparison. I started to sway, and he wrapped his arms around my waist, pulling me tight against his body. My breath was stolen by the beauty of this warmth against me.

  I held onto his shoulders, looping my arm high around his neck. Running my fingers through his hair, I marveled at the texture, so smooth and silky it felt as fine as the most delicate silk.

  Nick’s mouth opened, teasing my lips. He pulled me harder against him, letting out another moan as my hips crashed into his.

  I pulled back, afraid I had somehow hurt him. “Are–”

  He stopped my words with his mouth, running the tip of his tongue over my lips. A sigh escaped me and I sagged against him. With his hand on my jaw, he tilted my head to the side and dipped his tongue into my mouth.

  Fire burned through my body as the kiss deepened, until I thought I might explode.

  Nick slid one of his hands along my back, the other caressed my waist, and I sighed as he slipped his lips off mine to touch my jaw, to slide over my throat. I groaned as his kisses sent more lightning through my body, bringing every sense to life. My knees began to buckle, but he held me firm against him and did not let me fall.

  “Nick,” I whispered, my voice sounding husky and strange to me.

  “My Tressey,” he murmured against my throat.

  As he came up, he began to wobble, his hand landing on the table to balance. A crash of breaking teacups. Nick winced and jerked away from me.

  I shook my head, trying to slow down my humming body, when I saw his hand–a slice down the side, blood pouring out. He pinched his eyes shut, whispering under his breath.

  I reached for my handkerchief to staunch the blood. “Nick, are you all right?”

  “Yes, yes, it is not bad,” he said, though he held his hand curled against his chest.

  “Let me see, please?” I pulled the wounded hand away from him, my head still floating from his kiss, and had to blink several times to focus on his hand.

  The cut was long and deep. Though it did not gape and the blood flow was slowing, it was enough to tempt infection if not properly cleaned.

  I took his other hand and pressed it over my handkerchief. “Hold this to it, while I get what I need.”

  I flicked my hair out of the way and charged into the storeroom. I grabbed the herbs and tinctures I needed, as well as a clean bandage, and had started back to Nick when I noticed the dagger lying on one of the shelves

  I knew what I had to do. The dagger added to my collection, I came back into the room with all my supplies.

  Nick had cleared up while I was gone–the broken pieces of the cup lay neatly in the saucer–so I set everything on the small table and cleaned the cut.

  When that was done, I exchanged my now-soaked handkerchief for a scrap of fabric and pressed his hand over it once more. Placing the herbs into the mortar, I ground them with the pestle until I had a fine powder. I needed one more ingredient.

  “It will heal in a few days’ time, and I shall be good as new,” Nick said.

  I glanced at him. “But it will infect.” I grabbed the dagger.

  He raised an eyebrow at me. “What are you doing with that?”

  I looked around the floor until I found the end of my hair lying near the window. “This,” I said, marching across the room and snatching it up. Gritting my teeth, I took a deep breath then chopped off a small piece, no longer than my thumb.

  I let out a slow breath, releasing the pain as I had done a thousand times with Mother, to hide how much it hurt. This was different though. Before, it had always been to please her. This was because I chose to do it.

  Sweat beaded on my brow and I had to forcibly hold myself upright as I walked back. I slumped into the chair and motioned for his hand. Twisting the hair
together, I placed it directly on the cut. Nick let out a hiss as I applied the herb mixture and wrapped a fresh bandage around his hand.

  When I was done, Nick sighed.

  “Is it still throbbing?” I asked.

  He shook his head. “Why your hair?”

  My head pounded and I wiped sweat out of my eye. “It has healing properties.” I stroked the braids hanging off my shoulder. “Mother said it has something to do with the golden color.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “I have met men and women with golden hair like yours and never once have I known the hair to have healing properties.”

  I shrugged. “It is the way of it.” I nudged the dagger with my hand, shoving the thing away. I did not want to even touch it more than necessary.

  “But how is it possible? I have never heard of such magicks.”

  “I do not know. It has always been this way. Mother has been using it in her healing potions since I was a little girl.”

  “How did your mother learn of it?”

  “Perhaps it had something to do with her healing abilities? She might have taken special herb teas, I suppose, before my birth. The herbs can do many things when taken in the right combination.”

  He shook his head. “I am awestruck.” His eyes went dark. “I can understand why she would keep you hidden.”

  I blinked at him. “Why?”

  “The value of your hair. Herbs that can heal are quite expensive, and very few of them do as they are supposed to.” He rubbed his hand. “Already my hand feels much better. Your hair is a rare prize, Rapunzel. There are many who would pay a great deal of coin to have just a piece.” He glanced around the room. “And you have twenty ells of it.”

  I shivered, for Mother had once told me the very same thing. I raised my eyebrow at him. “I thought that was why you were here as well.”

  Nick let out a breathy laugh. “No, not at all.”

  “Then why are you here?”

  He looked away from me. “I do not know,” he whispered.