Rapunzel is trying to feel bored.
She has quite a lot of experience with boredom as there are only so many things a person can do at the top of a small, locked tower day after day. Being bored is horrid, but it is familiar, far more familiar than the odd, oppressive sensation that makes her throat feel tight and her lungs too small. Being bored is better than sitting idly by while her heart slowly drowns in something that feels very much like tears.
Boredom, she decides, is preferable.
She traces an outline of the sun with her big toe on the velvet that covers the floor of the carriage. Her tongue peeks out from between her lips as she finishes the final curve. It joins an array of stars and a crescent moon (because the moon is always most recognizable when drawn as a crescent, not because it is any more beautiful that way… no, Rapunzel prefers the majesty of a full moon, but the crescent is unique, like Eugene is unique: a subtly glowing crescent amongst blazing suns).
Now that she is finished, Rapunzel tucks her foot under herself and admires her work. Pascal would have liked it. Eugene might have made some kind of cheeky comment about her drawing with her toe - “Branching out, are we, Blondie?” he would have asked, resting his chin on her shoulder and breathing into her ear; it makes her shiver when he does that and he takes every opportunity to elicit that reaction from her; over the years, she has discovered that she doesn’t mind so much. Yes, Eugene would have teased her in several ways, but she knows he would have appreciated the design as well.
She tilts her head to the side and, break time over, extends her foot once more. She begins to coax the outline of a mountainous horizon into the weave of the carpet, doing her best to ignore the empty aching in her chest.
“Your grandmother,” the king says softly, as if the mere sound of a voice has the ability to shatter the artwork on the coach floor, “used to paint.”
Rapunzel looks up, her bare toe hovering above the floor. “Did she?”
Her father nods. “The sky, mostly. Sunrise and sunset. Misty dawns. And storms. I remember when I was a boy, how she would throw open the balcony doors during the most terrifying storms and paint. The wind would blow her hair and the rain would splatter the canvas, but when lightning struck in the distance…” His voice trails off and Rapunzel stares at his expression. He looks so much younger, lost in his memories.
“Lightning?” she prompts. Rapunzel frowns, trying to remember ever seeing such a storm either from the tower window or during the last three years she has lived in the castle.
The king sighs. “Sometimes I do miss those storms, but it’s best that they stay away. They cause mischief, you know.”
“What do you mean?” she presses, tucking her leg underneath her on the upholstered seat. “It’s better that they stay away. You make it sound as if they have a choice.”
He chuckles. “They don’t. You’re right, but…” He glances around them and, ensuring that none of the mounted guards are riding immediately beside the coach, confides, “I do.”
“What?” She blinks with confusion as he reaches for his crown and taps its surface with his fingertips.
“You are old enough,” he says, his voice weighted with responsibility and royalty, “to know the truth. The single drop of sunlight which fell to earth and created the magic flower which saved your mother’s life and gave you your golden hair… It was not the only one.”
Rapunzel gapes at him.
“You mustn’t ever tell anyone, my dearest, but there was another plant which grew, many generations ago, long before the magic flower. Legend goes that it wasn’t one drop, but four which fell together in the same place. And there grew a tree, a great, twisting tree with golden leaves and gemstone flowers. Our ancestors took the leaves and jewels and made these trinkets of ours.”
He indicates his own crown and then Rapunzel’s with a regal wave of his hand. “Through these, we command the sun so that it always shines favorably upon our kingdom.”
“This,” Rapunzel finally manages, “is a secret?”
“It must be,” he gently admonishes her.
She considers that, wonders if she can still tell Eugene… Eugene! With a gasp she sits upright.
“Is that why he was to be hanged?” she hisses urgently. “You feared he knew the power of our…?” Her voice trails off as the ramifications of this unfold in her thoughts.
She clutches her father’s sleeve in her hand as she thinks aloud. “That was why you agreed to pardon him? In hopes that he would tell you…? Or that he might try to steal it again and lead you to the person who hired him?”
“My dearest,” the king whispers back, his expression sad. “Do you truly think so little of me? Eugene Fitzherbert was pardoned because he returned our greatest treasure safely to us, because you clearly needed him, because your mother and I wanted only your happiness.”
Once upon a time, Rapunzel might have believed him unconditionally, but she is no longer the naïve child that Gothel had sheltered and kept ignorant of the world.
Perhaps he sees the suspicion in her expression - Eugene is always scolding her for not making a better effort to conceal her emotions - because he admits with a sigh, “The other points you raised were considered. However, he seems very loyal to you.”
She scowls. “Eugene is loyal to me. He died to save me from Gothel.”
“And I will never forget that,” the king replies. “Nor will I ever cease being thankful for it.”
“But you don’t trust him,” she realizes. As she speaks the words, their truth echoes and resonates with the heartache she has been working so hard not to feel. “You still don’t trust him.”
The king is silent. Rapunzel sits back against the coach seat and shakes her head. “I don’t believe this. After all this time… After everything he’s done for me, and you’ve done for him…”
“Do not assume that’s all there is to it,” he cautions her but she fears she may be beyond listening. She glares out the frustratingly small, decorative window and tries not to hear his justifications. “We are royalty and we must guard ourselves against those who would use us. It pains me that Gothel will not be the last of such enemies you will have to face. Your mother and I are doing all we can to protect you from them, but-”
Rapunzel whirls to face him as his words align and reveal a second, previously hidden truth within her. “That’s what this whole tour is about, isn’t it? You and mother decided to leave Eugene behind because-!” She is too incensed to speak the words.
“Eugene will be waiting for you when you return,” the king reminds her. “We only want you to see the world such as it is, for yourself.” He pauses for a moment before venturing, “You know he agreed to remain behind at your mother's request."
“I know…” Confusion enters into her voice. Why had he agreed? Did he really want her to see the world without him?
Almost immediately she dismisses the idea. There must be another reason why he would agree to stay behind while she traveled with her father. Though he had tried to answer her constant questions, Eugene hadn’t been able to fully convince her why it was such a good idea for him to remain with the queen at the castle this year. It had been clear that he was going to miss her but no matter how she’d cajoled and pressed, he had never really admitted why she should go without him.
After he had told her about his intention to stay behind, Rapunzel had noticed that Eugene had suddenly taken an unusually keen interest in her hobbies. Straddling a chair and waiting for her to complete her measurements for a new dress for Pascal hadn’t seemed to bother him in the least. Normally, he would have tried to teach her bawdy limericks or kicked off his boots and beat his heels against the floor in an obnoxious rhythm. “I’m not very good at doing nothing,” he had told her time and time again in the past.But not recently.
And all this week, Eugene had watched her more when he’d thought she was too busy to notice. He had, especially in the couple of days leading up to this trip, been more demonstrative in his feelings for her. His previously unspoken words - so much- drift into Rapunzel’s thoughts. No, she has no doubt that Eugene loves her, but the intense addition of those two simple words had caused Rapunzel to go speechless. They still do. She hadn’t missed the raw emotion that had been attached to the two words.
Perhaps he knew about her parents' reluctance to see past his former ways! Perhaps this was his way of appeasing them and showing them that he was no longer Flynn Rider (though Rapunzel hadn't thought of him as such in years!) and was committed to a Eugene Fitzherbert way of life!
Yes, that is it, Rapunzel decides.
Eugene surely knows her feelings for him will never change, so he is doing everything he can to show her parents that he is not to be feared with their daughter's welfare, but trusted. After all, there is no one who Rapunzel entrusts more with her heart than Eugene.
When she arrives back at the castle she is going to rush into the arms of her waiting Eugene (for there is no doubt in her mind that he will be waiting for her return eagerly) and tell him that she has already figured out his plan to dazzle her parents. He will be impressed with her cleverness and reward her with a sound kiss, regardless if her father is present or not!
Just twenty more days to go before she can do just that.
Familiar equine footsteps approach the coach. She glances at the king who appears to be dozing in his seat before sitting on her knees to peer outside the window. She sees Maximus and his rider, the head of the royal guard, approaching. She gives him a small wave, wishing there was an apple in the cabin for her to give him. He nickers softly.
“Do you think Eugene is having fun at the castle?” she asks the horse, ignoring the curious look on the guard’s face.
The stallion scrunches up his nose briefly. Obviously, she isn’t the only one Eugene had failed to convince of his enthusiasm for party planning. She thinks of parties, of streamer and banner be-decked houses and streets and… she groans. What had she been thinking leaving Eugene behind to tackle the logistics of the annual Festival of the Sun? Why, she doubts he even knows his lilac from his orchid! Who knows what sort of color schemes he could talk her mother into!
Maximus leans in and busses her cheek with his horsey upper lip before once again assuming the proper posture for a proud captain of the royal guard. Rapunzel sits back on her seat, her crown shifting as she does so. Her crown, the Festival of the Sun… She had never guessed - and never would have guessed! - at how closely related they both are. Such power contained in a seemingly ornamental piece of headwear. Power over the sun means control over the seasons which means bountiful harvests and prosperity for years upon years.
No wonder her father had assumed someone had been after it. And now she wonders about the episode that had brought Eugene to her tower. Who had hired him to steal it? Or, conversely, who had he and the Stabbington brothers been hoping to sell it to? Whereas her father had never come out and asked Eugene directly, Rapunzel has no such qualms! But, again, it will be weeks before she’ll have the chance.
Poor Eugene, she thinks with a too-wide grin. He really will be in for it when she returns.
Before she can begin to daydream about the impending confrontation, she hears Maximus snorting at something. Curious, she looks out the window where Max is. As they begin a steep turn, she notices an overt change in Maximus’ demeanor. He looks conflicted for a moment, looking at the coach then back to the front where something is clearly demanding the horse’s attention.
Maximus shoots her a look. Stay here, no matter what.
Rapunzel frowns as she watches him gallop forward, wondering what he had seen that could have bothered him so much. She considers waking up the king, who had been lulled to sleep by the steady pull of the horses, but decides to wait. There are nearly a dozen guards travelling with them. Surely they are well-protected.
It is probably just a rabbit on the road.
Rapunzel is still working on convincing herself that everything is fine and is striving to not think about how much she wishes Eugene were here when the coach begins to slow down until it stops completely.
“Are we there already?” the king asks sleepily.
Rapunzel peers out the window at the scene and scenery around the carriage. She can see the mounted members of the guard, posture rigid, and the lush woodland beyond, but she can no longer see Maximus. “I think… something unexpected has happened?” she supplies uncertainly. She doesn’t particularly like her choice of words. There is a tension in the summer air that hadn’t been there before. Something she hasn’t sensed since she had defied Gothel. Something… menacing. Her hand creeps toward the dagger concealed on her thigh.
A horse snorts. Another quivers. The nearest guard reaches for his sword and then…!
Suddenly the peaceful summer afternoon is shattered by the sounds off clashing swords and men shouting at each other. The air buzzes and throbs, presses in on her and she must do something! Her promise to Eugene, to stay safe, is momentarily forgotten as the guards near the carriage draw their weapons. Other command their mounts forward to meet the unseen assailants. Rapunzel pulls up her dress to retrieve the knife she had brought. She will help them! She will not allow them to put their lives at risk when she is fully capable of defending herself! But the king stills her hand. “Let the guards to their job, my daughter.”
Rapunzel is tempted to argue - she is no damsel in distress! - but, taking in his worried glance, she does as her father requests. If she disobeys him, it will only worry him and the guards. She may have convinced Eugene of her fighting skills, but the king seems to be more comfortable with her taking a less active role in her defense.
She wants to look out the window to see what’s going on, but knows it isn’t wise. Instead, she sits down and listens to the action outside, trying to piece together what is happening beyond the now-surreal comfort of the coach cabin. She stares at the pattern she had petted into the velvet carpet and tries not to count the sounds of potential injuries… or worse.
She doesn’t need to defy Eugene and her father and lean out the window of the carriage to know that the men fighting against their guards are numerous; their footsteps cause the ground to tremble. The clanging and crashing of swords nearly drowns out the insistent demands of the royal guard for the attackers to cease and desist at once! Maximus’ scream pierces the air, slicing through the calls of all other horses.
Oh, how she wishes she could go out there and fight herself!
“Who are they?” she demands of her shaken father, fisting the pommel of her dagger through the fabric of her green summer dress.
He shakes his head, clearly overwhelmed. “I do not know, my dearest,” he quietly admits.
It is clear from the advancing shouts that whoever the unknown men are, they are either more skilled or simply more numerous than the royal guard. Soon, they’ll be close enough to reach the coach. Rapunzel will wait no longer! She ignores her father’s worried glance and reaches for her knife when the most particular thing happens.
Another man, whose voice carries above all others, shouts, “Stop, you fiends! By the command of Prince Banale of the kingdom of Trist, I order you to stand down!”
Almost immediately, the king relaxes. “It would seem that Fate has smiled kindly on us today, my daughter. Prince Banale is a noble man, skilled in swordsmanship. His family has been one of our most trusted allies for generations.”
Trist… Trist… Rapunzel scrunches up her nose as she digs through her memory. What had she learned about the neighboring kingdom of Trist? Oh! That’s right; Trist, a peaceful country of modest standing, is ruled by a king and queen. This fortuitously arriving prince is their only child. She marvels at the odds of such a timely encounter. He had been out and about on one of his adventures, when he’d heard the commotion of the attack? It seems ridiculously lucky.
Judging by the sounds outside now, the tide of the battle is turning. She leans back against the seat cushion although she does not relax. If this prince really can help the guard beat back the enemy, then perhaps all of the comments she had overheard from her parents about him are true. Perhaps he is an excellent fighter, honorable and noble, adventurous and dashing, a bit reckless even. And if those things are facts, then it’s probably also true that her parents had been correct about his age being very near Rapunzel’s. She glances at her father who now looks very pleased indeed as he peers out the carriage window. Although she is curious to meet this person, she is certain her father’s hopes for the kindling of a new romance will be dashed. But there’s nothing she can do about that. Her heart belongs to Eugene. End of story
Rapunzel simply isn’t impressed by a man who runs off to slay dragons or wrestle sea monsters. Those sorts of exploits make for wonderful reading, but… well, really! Couldn’t he find something more… helpful to do within the borders of his own lands? Despite that apparent shortcoming, Rapunzel is truly thankful for his expertise here today; the guard had been clearly unprepared for defending against a serious attack.
From the sounds of the clattering metal hitting the ground, Rapunzel assumes that the unknown assailants have acquiesced to the prince’s demands. The guards release a resounding shout of victory - “Huzzah!” - as the bandits ride off, crashing through the forest. The king lets out a shaky sigh and a wobbly smile.
Nearly a minute passes before the back slapping and sword swishing quiet. Rapunzel tries to listen to what is going on and being said outside in the sudden - almost shocked - silence of a relieved aftermath, but the sounds are too muffled by the coach’s walls. Her father places a hand on her shoulder. “They will summon us when it is safe.”
As if on cue, the door opens and Mandel, their footman, leans inside. “Your Highness, Prince Banale of Trist has requested to speak with you,” he says, bowing slightly. “He says he has news of the utmost importance.”
“Ah, perhaps he has insight into these criminals who have attacked us.” He offers the explanation happily to Rapunzel as he moves to step out of the coach. Turning to Mandel, the king declares, “Of course, I shall speak with him at once.” To Rapunzel, he charges, “Wait here, my dearest.”
“Daddy,” she interjects, her tone one that no one has ever dared to reckon with, “I’m coming with you.”
He hesitates briefly.
If there is unpleasant news, Rapunzel doesn’t want to be protected from it. Hasn’t she been training how to react in certain crises for moments like these? And for another thing, there could still be danger afoot and Rapunzel is better able to defend him than he is himself! Also, she is curious…
Finally, he nods and holds the door open for her. Mandel takes her by the hand and helps her to step out of the coach. When her feet touch the rough road, she realizes that she has forgotten to put on her shoes. Again.
Drat! Where is Eugene when I need him?
The king comes to her rescue; as he emerges from the carriage, he offers her the abandoned silk slippers without saying a word. As she kneels to put the unwanted footware on her feet, she discreetly surveys the crowd for Maximus. When she doesn’t find the diligent horse, she frowns.
If everything is truly fine, then where could he be?
But that question will have to wait. She takes her time standing, getting her bearings. It’s not until her father nudges her gently that she sees their timely rescuer.
A young man - He must be Banale! - stands in front of the royal guards, posture straight, chin lifted, and lips curved into a winning smile. His haphazardly cut blonde hair nearly veils his piercing green eyes. His skin is tanned, in testament to the many days he has spent trekking the land in the sun. His muscular frame rivals the most well-built men in the royal guard.
Uh-huh. Another Flynn Rider. Must be a popular character… Rapunzel regrets never having gotten he chance to read the book. Perhaps she’ll ask Eugene to tell her the story later. I’m sure he remembers.
Rapunzel doesn’t miss the double-take Banale makes when he sees her straightening up beside the coach.
Finally, Banale seems to remember himself. With a blink and a brief shake of his head, he moves his gaze to her father.
“Your Majesty, it has been far too long.” His voice is smooth and overpowering. Kind of like that fish oil her royal physician had tried to make her take. If only Pascal were here, they could have made “burnt cookie” faces together.
“Prince Banale, is that really you?” The king remarks, brows arched upward in surprise. “The last time I saw you, you had not even grown to your father’s knee.” This is the moment, Rapunzel senses, when her father would have closed the distance between himself and the prince in order to clasp hands in greeting. However, the king’s gaze darts from the prince to his rather large company of heavily armed soldiers. When he speaks again, his voice has an edge to it that makes Rapunzel wish for the reassuring weight of a frying pan in her hands. “I was not aware that your caravan was travelling through our borders.”
The prince’s smile falters slightly before the too-wide grin is back. “I was not aware I needed to inform you. Our treaty allows us to travel into each other’s land, does it not?”
“Of course.” Her father doesn’t seem at all perturbed by the prince’s arrogance, but the concerned tilt of his brows lingers. “I was told you had some news to deliver. It must be of great importance for your parents to send you.”
The question is clearly meant for the prince, but Banale doesn’t give any indication of hearing it. Instead, he blithely turns to face Rapunzel. She fights the urge to scowl in response to his frank appraisal of her. “Is this your daughter, your Majesty?”
“It is.” Rapunzel recognizes this tone of voice in her father’s. Usually though, he only uses it around Eugene.
Banale holds his hand out for her to take. Rapunzel simply looks at him blankly. Eugene had warned her about would-be suitors wanting to kiss her hand to a greeting. This prince and his too-perfect hair will not be preforming such an act with her hand!
After a very long, awkward moment, he drops his hand but is, unfortunately, undeterred. “She is beautiful,” he frankly evaluates, irking Rapunzel by both his high-handed manner and indirect address. She is not a horse at auction! “And to think, if she hadn’t had been stolen as a child, she would have been my wife.”
This… is surprising. Rapunzel flinches toward her father. “Daddy?” she whispers questioningly, not taking her eyes off Banale.
She doesn’t care much for the three long seconds that pulse in the summer afternoon as the king clearly weighs his options. Tone both steely and apologetic, he replies, “I will tell you about it later.”
There isn’t much she can do at the moment short of starting an argument in front of Banale, so she nods.
Rapunzel looks at the man in front of her and frowns. A betrothal? Between her and this... prince? When she manages to spare a thought for the idea of marriage (which is an admittedly rare subject of contemplation; there are so many things she has to do now that she had so many responsibilities to Corona!), there is only one man who enters the picture. And he is most definitely not a prince.
“Perhaps, Prince Banale, it would be better to deliver the news of great importance,” the king says in a slightly chiding tone, directing the conversation back to a topic that is far more relevant.
If Banale is disappointed by her father’s implied demand, he makes no outward sign of it. Instead, he nods. “Yes. The news. I am afraid, your Highness, that there is a new band of thieves that have been plaguing the countryside of Trist for the better part of a year now. Robbing travelers, destroying homes, stealing livestock… all in the light of day, no less!” He gestures to the men who are standing noticeably separate from the royal guards. “My men and I have done our best to control them, but it seems as though they have made it through to the borders of Corona.”
Rapunzel frowns, thinking of the Stabbington brothers. Not every thief is a redeemable Flynn Rider, after all…
The king tenses slightly. “I see.”
“I have come to request your permission to be able to use your castle as a base of operations.” The prince takes a step closer to them. Rapunzel resists the urge to fist her hands, ready herself for delivering a right hook to a royal eyeball. There was something about this prince that was decidedly uncharming.
“Of course,” her father agrees. “We will do everything we can to assist you in stopping such a band of brazen thieves.”
Banale turns to look at Rapunzel, his expression hopeful and… something else, “Perhaps, my princess, we will have an opportunity to get to know each other better.”
If skin really could crawl, Rapunzel is sure hers would be doing precisely that, precisely now. Even Eugene’s early attempts at charm hadn’t made her want to… to…! Actually, she can’t quite decide what she would like to do. Other than put this prince back on his horse and send him straight back to his castle!
Borrowing an expression she’d learned from watching Eugene, she pastes a toothy grin on her face. “We shall see,” she replies noncommittally.
He flashes her a quick wink (Ugh! It’s hardly worth the effort of comparing it to Eugene’s smolder!) and bows to the king. “Your assistance is appreciated, your Highness.”
Banale then levels his sword at the half dozen men who tried to attack them. The prince puffs up with self-importance as his men surround the brigands and force them to stand. “You will all pay for your crimes,” vows the prince. “This is a land of peace and beauty.” Rapunzel steadfastly ignores the fact he directs the latter part of the sentence in her direction. “Where is your leader?”
“We ain’t tellin’ ya anything,” snarls one of the bulkier men.
The prince glares briefly at the man, then turns back to face the king. “I do not know if it is prudent for you and your daughter to be travelling these roads with so few men. Especially as there is may be another attack. These men have no respect for royalty. No honor to speak of. I would hate for anything… unfortunate to happen.”
Rapunzel finds herself being contemplated by not only Banale but her father as well. The solution to the problem is obvious and impossible: she and the king should return to Corona, but to show weakness in the face of lawlessness. Well…
Unfortunately, they must move onward. And, unfortunately, they need more guards. Very unfortunately, Banale seems to be waiting for them to invite him and his soldiers along for the tour.
Rapunzel can see the advantages, of course. That doesn’t me she likes the option in general, however!
The king, having considers the prince’s words for a moment, takes a step toward the prince and proposes, “Or perhaps you could accompany us. You and your men have certainly proven your skills today. You might find the tour useful for carrying out your investigation and then, upon our return to Corona, the base of operations you requested could be assembled.”
Rapunzel watches a wide smile spread across the prince’s face. “Just take a look at that smug, bug-eating grin,” Eugene would have said and Pascal would have agreed with wholeheartedly.
The prince sheaths his sword and bows to her father. “I am humbled by your request, but I will only go if it is acceptable by both parties in the royal family.”
Oh, fudge fingers and coffee cakes! Rapunzel nearly growls with frustration. The truth is that she and her father must complete this tour of the country. Another inconvenient truth is that their guard is poorly outnumbered by the linger threat in these woods. And, since Eugene made himself scarce for this year’s journey, Rapunzel sees no other option. The king will need someone more skilled in swordsmanship to protect them if the outlaws return for a reprise. Still, it is very clever of Banale to force this decision on Rapunzel. This man, she decides, bears watching. After careful consideration, she announces, “The king and I would be grateful for your assistance, Prince Banale.”
“I cannot refuse the request of a princess,” he says smoothly, clearly pleased. The prince gestures to eight of his guards. “Go. Deliver these prisoners to the prison in the royal castle in Corona’s capital. Continue to be diligent in your search for their heinous leader. I will return once my duties to the king and his daughter are complete.”
The men before him bow deeply. “As you wish, your Highness.”
As the thieves resist their captors in vain, swearing and scuffing their feet in the dusty road, Rapunzel catches a glimpse of white in the trees out of the corner of her eye.
More thieves!?
For a moment, her heart pounds in her chest and begins to climb up her throat. And then the unmistakable swish of a horse’s tail shows - just barely - through the dense vegetation.
Maximus?
Yes, it is him. She can barely make out the horse’s shape behind the thick trees that crowd the edge of the road.
What does he think he’s doing back there?
Yet another question that must wait. The prince approaches and Rapunzel carefully looks away from Max’s hiding place. Banale genteelly offers Rapunzel a hand to help her into the coach. She doesn’t miss the smile on her father’s face.
She knows why her father is smiling now but he certainly hadn’t when Eugene had helped her into the carriage only hours before. In fact, the gesture had been a bit out of character for him. On previous occasions, he’d rushed into the coach, shot her a false look of annoyance, offered his hand as if reaching out to grab his jacket and said, “Are you coming, Blondie?”
She meets Banale’s intrusive stare with her own and, bracing her hand on his forearm - she has no desire to touch his bare hand! - boosts herself into the coach. Her father enters the cabin next, followed by the prince.
The blonde-headed monarch glances around the cabin with an air of entitlement as his booted feet smash the delicate patterns Rapunzel had spent hours coaxing out of the velvet carpet. His eyes stop on the frying pan and he reaches down to pick up the seemingly out of place object.
Rapunzel scoops it up quickly. I’ll - “Thank you.” - not to touch my things!
“If I might inquire, why is a kitchen utensil in the royal coach?” he asks, mirth entering into his eyes.
She holds it up to her chest proudly. “I use it to fight off ruffians and thugs,” she replies unrepentantly. Let this man mock her. That would be preferable to his greedy gaze.
“A frying pan? Now that is something I must see for myself,” Banale replied. “Perhaps you can show me your technique when we stop in the village for the evening.”
Her father nods at her encouragingly. She forces herself to smile at the prince. Only when she imagines using the frying pan on him does her expression become one of genuine mirth. “Of course.”
Chapter 4