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Exploring the study, Rapunzel’s eyes wandered over the paintings adorning the walls. Among them was a portrait of Emmett, his queen, and their newborn child.

“Even so,” she mused, “my showing up would no doubt stir up all sorts of trouble, especially with your marriage being a little rocky and all.”

“My marriage is fine,” Emmett insisted, but his words rang hollow as Rapunzel sensed a flicker of doubt.

“Fine isn’t great,” she said, sitting on his desk. “Besides, she’s a new queen, and with a newborn baby… I can only assume there hasn’t been much attention given to you.”

“You can exit where you entered,” Emmett retorted bitterly.

“Look around, Emmett.” Rapunzel gestured at the room, and his eyes widened as he beheld that the study had transformed into a nursery. Cribs crowded the space, baby paintings covered the walls, and scattered toys littered the floor.

“What is this?” he said, rising to his feet.

“It’s a mindscape, darling,” Rapunzel explained, her voice dripping with honeyed mockery. “And all that you see… are your insecurities.”

Emmett slammed his fist on the table. “Get out of my head,” he demanded.

Rapunzel inspected her perfectly manicured nails, seemingly unperturbed. “Not until I get what I came for.”

“You are not welcome here,” Emmett growled.

“Oh, please.” She waved him off. “Tell me something I don’t already know.”

“What do you want?” he hissed.

“Some food would be nice.” She touched her stomach. “I am famished.”

He slapped his desk again. “Quit wasting my time, Rapunzel.”

“As I recall, I used to be worth your while.”

“I don't have time for this.” Emmett stormed across the room, but when he attempted to leave through the double doors, he found himself inexplicably back in the same room.

“Release me at once!” he demanded, his patience wearing thin.

Rapunzel smiled slyly. “Give me your sword, and you’re free to go.”

Emmett’s hand instinctively reached for the hilt of his Elven metal sword, hanging on his sheath. “My sword?”

“Yes, that exact one. I need it,” she said.

Emmett laughed incredulously. “And what could you possibly need with my sword?”

Rapunzel shrugged nonchalantly. “I have my reasons.”

“Then maybe the better question is…” He sauntered back into the room, his gaze locked onto her. “What makes you think I will give it to you?”

“Would you prefer I tell your wife about your little unfinished business with Rumple?” she threatened, reaching for a vial of blue liquid on his desk.

Emmett’s eyes widened, and beads of sweat formed on his forehead. “I have no idea what you’re referring to.”

“Oh, but you do,” she assured him, swirling the vial in her hand. “At your brother’s wedding, Rumple told you to put this cure into your brother’s drink. And if you failed to do so, he would come to collect his debt.”

Emmett’s composure wavered, but he refused to yield. “How did you get that?”

Rapunzel set the vial down, her smile chilling. “We’re inside your head, Emmett. Everything in this room holds your most precious secrets, and I have access to all of it.”

“Since when do you do Rumple’s dirty work?” he asked, his gaze darting around the room as if searching for more secrets that might have been exposed.