Hidden: Rapunzel's Story (Destined Book 2)

by Kaylin Lee

  He sighed. “Zel …”

  “I know, I know.” I leaned back in my chair and tilted my head toward the ceiling. “I just can’t do it.”

  “She’ll be upset no matter what, but she’ll be devastated if you don’t tell her yourself.”

  “But can’t you explain once I—”

  “No! Zel, don’t ask me to do that.”

  I shifted in my chair, my skin tightening uncomfortably as guilt pricked at me.

  “She’s finally trusting me,” he said. “She’s been hurt so much already. Please, don’t make me hurt her like that. Didn’t you say she needed to trust me once you left? Well, if she finds out that I knew you were leaving and didn’t tell her, all that trust we’ve built will be lost.”

  I heaved a sigh. I wanted to plant my forehead on the table, but I held myself upright. “Fine. I’ll … I’ll try. I’ll do it. Not today, but soon.”

  ~

  The next day I paid the tax. When Cyrus saw the thickness of the envelope, he yanked it from my hands and licked his lips like a starving man as he thumbed through to count the marks. It was all I could do to hold myself still in his dark, dirty office and wait for his confirmation.

  “Where’d you get this money?” He peered at me over the thick envelope, watching me with a new fascination.

  I hovered between fight and flight instincts, my power teetering on the brink of wildness once again. I took a deep breath and tried to calm myself. “Ella has a new stall at the Theros Street Market. It’s quite successful.”

  He raised his eyebrows and watched me as though waiting for more information, but I couldn’t speak any more. At the sight of his hungry gaze, my mouth went dry.

  “I see.” He stuffed the envelope into his pocket and leaned back on his heels, a satisfied grin easing across his face. “Be on your way then, Mrs. Stone.”

  I stiffened. He’d emphasized my name like he knew it was a façade. He was rubbing in the fact that he knew I had never been with Ella’s father, and that Ella and I had been hiding something all this time.

  I left, not trusting myself to stay another moment longer. In the bright light of the morning street outside Cyrus’s office, I felt like a fool. I had to get back to the bakery before I was caught. At least this time I hadn’t rushed off impulsively, and I’d managed to hold in my trace in the blocks closest to the bakery. Still, in the back of my mind, the idea of getting taken without having to explain myself to Ella had its appeal.

  I was a coward. That was my problem. I was terrified of confronting my problems head on. I needed to take a cue from Weslan and Ella and be brave, didn’t I? If they had found a way to thrive when they’d both lost everything, I could do the right thing, tell Ella my plan, and set her free from me.

  Tomorrow. I’d tell her tomorrow.

  The next day, I kept watch on the streets around us from the roof, pacing and practicing my speech to Ella in my head. Well past noon, I spied Gregor hurrying down the alley toward the bakery, his face weathered by worry and fear. No. Not again.

  I rushed downstairs and met him at the back door of the bakery. “Gregor? Is it—”

  He nodded helplessly. “Another attack at the Theros Street Market. The Blight … they came in with knives and went after commoners shopping at the market. That’s all I know.”

  His words echoed in my ears, quiet and dim compared to the strange roaring sound that accompanied them. I nearly rushed past him out of the bakery to the market but held myself back. The last time I’d gone off impetuously, I’d almost blown my chance to say good-bye to Ella and the twins. I wouldn’t be so reckless this time. “When?”

  “Mid-morning … that’s what I heard. I tried to go there, but the streets around the market are all gated off by the Quarter Guard.”

  I fought the rush of panic threatening to pull me under again. In the back of my mind, my power rumbled, hungry to take control again and end the Blight myself. I’d find them. I’d find where they were hiding, and I’d—

  Gregor placed a hand on my elbow and ushered me to a chair. “I’m sure she’ll be home soon. I’ll go to the Quarter Guard station now and see if there is any word of who—” He broke off mid-sentence. “Of survivors.”

  I nodded numbly. “Thank you.”

  Gregor must have left at some point. but I didn’t know when. I sat at the kitchen table, my fingers twined in the folds of my dress as I strained to control my breathing. The Blight was ruining Ella’s life.

  If she still lived, she had no doubt been hurt, or she would have come straight home. She’d lose the progress she’d made. She’d go back to the nightmares, the starts of fear in the middle of the day, and the search for nonexistent threats. And if she were dead?

  My power heaved and strained at the thought. If she were dead, I’d destroy the Blight before they even had a chance to beg for mercy. They’d never see me coming. I sat in my chair and squeezed my eyes shut. Stay under control. You can do this.

  The wildness of my power eased slightly, and I opened my eyes. A worn, old book sat on the table beside me, along with a thin stack of papers covered in neatly slanted notes. Ella must have left them on the kitchen table that morning. I craned my neck to read the title—A Theory of Common Commerce. She must have been searching through her old Royal Academy textbooks to find ideas for the market stall’s operation.

  The sight of her innocent attempt at research was simply too much. My self-control snapped like a weakened thread, and I shot to my feet. My sweet, hardworking stepdaughter had never hurt anyone, yet the Blight had tried to steal her future again. I would end them.

  I strode to the door and slipped outside. I’d start with the market, and if any of the Blight dared to linger there, I’d—

  “Zel?” Weslan sent me a worried glance. He and Ella stood before me beside their beat-up handcart with a sad collection of smashed bakery trays piled inside. They were both dusty, disheveled, and—Weslan, especially—covered in dried blood, but they were alive.

  ~

  They went back to the Theros Street Market the very day it re-opened. I couldn’t believe my ears when Ella herself insisted on being part of the opening. She knew it was their stall the Crimson Blight had been targeting, and yet, out of some misplaced loyalty to the city that had been nothing but cruel to her, she wanted to give the market another chance.

  Ella, the girl who had been crying out from nightmares and starting with fright at the glimpse of anything red for weeks now! What was happening to my sweet girl?

  Then the Quarter Guard had piled on so many fines because of the “unapproved use of magic,” the bakery stand had been crushed anyway. And she still wouldn’t give up. Now she was trying to persuade me to go along with her wildest scheme yet—an experiment in using magic to help the other shops on our lane, in order to persuade the Asylian government to change their regulations on mage employment.

  I blamed Weslan for this strong, brave, new Ella. Weslan and his flirtatious smile and his frustratingly loyal support of her schemes. The boy needed to stop thinking with his heart and use his head. Hadn’t I hired him to keep her out of trouble?

  Ella leaned forward and clasped her hands as she rested them on the dinner table. “If we can just convince the government to change the regulation on mages, everything will be different! Imagine, Zel. Yes, Weslan and I could operate the bakery without those extra fines for unapproved use of magic. We’d be profitable again. But it would be so much bigger than just us.” She smiled and shot a sideways glance at Weslan. “Imagine what all those mages could do for the city’s merchants and commoners if they were free to use their powers for profit, instead of living as—well, as little more than slaves for the government and the Procus families.”

  Weslan was watching Ella with completely undisguised longing. I kicked his knee under the table. He squared his jaw and shifted closer to Ella. Weslan …

  Ella continued without noticing our exchange, her words jumbling together as she rushed through her explanation. “All
we have to do is get the initial numbers. I know it’s risky. I’ll admit that. But if we can get numbers to prove that mages working with merchants will help the city’s economy recover from the plague, that should be enough to convince the prince to consider the change.” She stopped at last and drew in a deep breath. “What do you think?”

  I leaned back and raised my face to the cloudy night sky. The twins had taken the dinner dishes down from the roof, but a small luminous lantern remained on the bare table, offering a bit of light against the heavy darkness. I breathed in the familiar scents of the garden—dirt, vegetables, and herbs. “Fine.” I exhaled in a long sigh. “I don’t know what else to say, El. Just promise me you’ll be careful.”

  “I will! Of course I will. And … well, if this works, and they change the regulations on mages, maybe you and the girls could be free too.”

  Oh, Ella. The Asylian government would never let me go free, and if they knew Ella and the girls had helped keep my secret, they’d punish them too. “Perhaps.”

  “Whatever happens, at least we can say that we tried, right?” Weslan leaned closer to Ella as he spoke. “I don’t— I won’t—”

  I silenced him with a glare, and he broke off mid-sentence.

  He met my gaze, and this time, he didn’t look away. The sheer defiance in his eyes startled me. I’d hired him so he would owe me, and his sense of obligation would drive him to take care of Ella for me when I left. He’d done his job too well, and now, he was loyal to Ella first. It would only be a matter of time before she discovered his feelings. And though she tried to hide it, I suspected she felt the same way about Weslan.

  I wanted to grab Ella and pull her away from him. How could I in good conscience seek to protect her from every other threat and do nothing about the danger Weslan posed to her heart? One way or another, Weslan would eventually break her heart, just like Darien’s death had destroyed mine.

  I clenched my fists in my lap and bit my tongue to keep from speaking. Ella was a grown woman now, a nervous, innocent student no longer. She’d survived two attacks by the Blight and been bankrupted by government regulations, but instead of breaking her will, each obstacle had made her stronger, more determined. If I kept trying to protect her from pain and failure, I’d no doubt end up driving her even further away.

  I stood and settled for glaring at Weslan. “It’s on you, then, Ella.” She was probably confused, but I was past caring. I hoped Weslan knew that I’d blame him if anything happened to her because of this. “I won’t stop you. But know this is on you.”

  Chapter 21

  Five days later, I banished the twins to the roof for extra script practice before bed, and I paced back and forth in the kitchen. My daughters were ready. I was the one who wasn’t ready.

  Ella was fine. She was falling in love with Weslan. She was getting ready to attend Prince Estevan’s selection ball tonight, masquerading as a Procus lady. She was risking her life in a wild attempt to change hundreds of years of mage regulations. Why wouldn’t she be fine? A hysterical laugh bubbled out of my throat.

  No, everyone was fine but me.

  I couldn’t bring myself to leave or send Bri and Alba away. Each day, I pushed them to practice a little more, to get their script down a little smoother. I simply couldn’t work up the courage to tell Ella the truth. She’d gone forward with her experiment, and somehow, the Crimson Blight had gotten word. They’d destroyed the shops that had made use of Weslan’s magical tools, and the blast had taken poor Gregor’s life. I’d held her that night as she sobbed and wailed and came apart at the seams. She was only a child, and she’d been forced to bear far too much grief in her short life. I’d been certain this would finally be the end of it.

  But the next morning, she’d woken up even more determined to go through with her plan. Now she was marching into the belly of the beast, armed only with a fanciful dream to change things for the mages in the city, and I didn’t even have the guts to tell her I was turning myself in tonight. Every time I imagined saying good-bye, I thought of her narrow shoulders shaking as she cried in my arms the night Gregor died. I might be a monster, but even I wasn’t sure I could leave her like this.

  I scowled at the ceiling as though I could see through it to where Weslan and Ella were ensconced in my living quarters, making use of my full-length mirror. Weslan was using his powers to prepare Ella for the ball. They’d taken long enough. Just what did he need to do that required so much time?

  What if Weslan had finally declared his intentions?

  I sped up the stairs to the living quarters and stopped short in my tracks.

  Weslan and Ella stood face to face, a mere hand’s breadth apart, with matching expressions of longing on their faces. Ella wore a glowing, pale blue ball gown that spilled off her shoulders and wrapped around her body in an artful way only mage-craft could accomplish. Her dark hair flowed down in perfect, tousled tendrils from the voluminous pile atop her head, caressing her shoulders and framing her face. And her skin glowed like a fine luminous lamp, not from the mage-craft makeup but from the obvious adoration directed toward Weslan.

  Should I step in?

  Ella leaned closer to Weslan, and he mirrored her movement. Weslan wore a common laborer’s brown work pants and white, buttoned shirt, loosely tucked in with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. Yet the two of them looked perfect together, as though the rest of the city had simply faded away and left them alone in their own glowing, magical bubble.

  Weslan’s blond hair fell into his eyes. “Ella … I need to—”

  I couldn’t take it anymore. “Ready?” My voice sounded sharp even to me.

  Ella and Weslan jumped guiltily.

  I narrowed my eyes at Weslan. “Ella, I thought you were planning to be somewhere tonight.”

  Ella flushed and ducked her head. “I was about to leave.”

  I regretted my harsh interruption immediately, but she was already striding downstairs. Weslan avoided my gaze as he helped her down the steps.

  Say something. Apologize. Say good-bye, in case this is the last time …

  But it was too late. Ella sped off to the ball in a gleaming white and silver fomecoach as Weslan collapsed against the side of the bakery in the alley.

  I pressed a hand to my stomach. The sight of Ella’s extravagant dress and the fomecoach had nauseated me. She’d looked just like the old me, the way I used to look when the Wasp sent me on an outing from my tower. But Ella wasn’t going off to murder some poor fool who’d crossed the wrong Draician clan leader. She wasn’t being compelled by her True Name to use her power for evil. No, she didn’t even have a mage’s power or a True Name. She was doing this on her own.

  Ella was free, yet she was laying down her freedom for the Asylian people who didn’t deserve her sacrifice one bit. She was dressing up like a Procus beauty and throwing herself into harm’s way, not to advance her own interests, but to help the city that had always hated her, to free mages who would never give her the time of day. How could one girl be so strong? And why was I so weak?

  I helped Weslan inside and shut the door. He collapsed into a chair in the kitchen, and I poured him a glass of water. He took it but didn’t drink.

  “Weslan,” I said, my voice quiet as a whisper, “I’m sorry …”

  He shook his head, and I trailed off.

  The accusation on his face made my insides twist into knots. “I won’t hurt her. I promised I wouldn’t. But you will.”

  I shrank back and crossed my arms. “No, I—”

  “You will. There are many ways to hurt someone. Ella wants nothing more than to be trusted, to be wanted. And if you leave tonight, you’ll destroy her. It would be the worst thing you could do.”

  “Fine. Then I won’t.”

  He rapped the table with his knuckles. “And you need to tell her. If you don’t tell her tomorrow, I will. I’m serious. This has gone on long enough.”

  I glared at him, but he straightened in his chair and glared right back
at me.

  “I know you think I forced her to form a bond with me when I gave her my True Name, but she’s a grown woman. She forgave me of her own volition, and she’s the one who chose to accept my name. She’s not a child. I’ve done nothing to pressure her or push her to be with me. I’ll give her time and space to make her own free choice, and if she rejects my suit, I’ll leave her be. I’ll never take her choices from her, Zel. I swear it.”

  My face burned, and my pulse raced. Just what was he saying?

  “But you … you’ve never once given her a choice. You decided you had to leave, and you never even discussed it with her. You told me that the evil of using a True Name is to have your choices taken away. But isn’t that what you’ve done to Ella?”

  “How dare you?” I clenched my fists and took a step toward Weslan.

  He stood up and shoved his chair back. “You just don’t want to hear it because you know it’s true. You don’t need Ella’s True Name to take her choices away because you’ve never given her any in the first place.”

  My power sizzled with rage. I inhaled sharply, straining with all my might to keep it under wraps.

  If Weslan noticed my struggle, his face didn’t give it away.

  “I’ve given her everything I could,” I hissed. “Everything!” I stomped out of the kitchen and up the stairs.

  I paced in our living quarters, flipped aimlessly through the faded pages of my journal, and stared at one page of a novel without seeing any of the words on it. Then I gave up and called the twins down from the roof and told them to get ready for bed.

  “Did you see her, Mom?” Alba twirled and flung the skirt of her dress out around her. “She looked like a princess … a fairytale princess. I’ve never seen anyone so beautiful.”

  “I saw her. She was quite beautiful.” Guilt and anger still battered me from the inside, so I didn’t continue the discussion. “Get ready for bed.”

  They washed up and put on their nightgowns, then lay down in bed. Would this be our last night? I sat on my bed, numb and drained.