Page 8

REN

B uttery morning light spills through the window. I lean casually against the wall, arms crossed, watching Rapunzel as she makes tea. I offered to prepare breakfast, but she declined, claiming I’m her guest.

I bite back a grin as her gaze keeps flicking toward me, fast and guilty—like she's trying to memorize me without getting caught.

Little does she realize I’m as fascinated with her as she seems to be with me.

She hands me a cup of tea, and I pretend to study it thoughtfully. “Well, this is rather forward of you,” I muse. “In my culture, tea is sacred. Sharing it is basically a marriage proposal.”

Her eyes widen as I continue. “So, I’ll accept your proposal.” I give her a roguish grin and wink. “But only if there’s honey.”

Without missing a beat, she pushes the small jar of honey across the counter, further away from me.

I burst out laughing, and she does the same. I’m delighted that she feels comfortable enough to joke with me.

“Rapunzel!” A woman’s voice calls out and we both freeze. “Let down your hair!”

Her gaze snaps to the window. “It’s Glinda,” she says in a panicked whisper. “You need to hide.” She grabs my arm. “She can’t know you’re here.”

“Hide?” I echo, but she’s already pushing me toward the wardrobe in the corner of the room. She’s surprisingly strong for someone so small as she practically shoves me into the cramped space.

The scent of wood and lavender fills my nose, and I crouch low as she seals me inside. Through the thin crack between the doors, I see her whirl around the room, tidying up the space and hiding the extra dishes and cups that I’ve used.

“Rapunzel, let down your hair,” Glinda calls out again.

“Just a minute,” she replies before moving to the window and looping her hair around a large hook near the ledge before tossing her very long braid over the side.

Rapunzel’s hair goes taut as Glinda presumably begins to ascend.

I don’t understand why she wouldn’t just use the stairs instead. Perhaps she does this in the hopes of keeping them hidden in the event that a stranger—like myself—happens to stumble upon this place, to make it harder for someone to access the tower.

A human hand appears on the window ledge and my hackles rise as the scent of licorice floats in on the breeze.

Glinda’s shoulder-length golden hair glints in the sunlight. Her features are delicate and flawless. She appears rather young for someone who supposedly was a nanny to Rapunzel when she was a child. She appears human, but her distinct smell tells me otherwise.

Sickly sweet, the cloying scent is unmistakable, and I wonder how I didn’t notice it earlier. Rapunzel said that Glinda visits her every few days, so it should have been all over this tower. It weaves through the air like a warning, setting my teeth on edge.

She’s a Goblin. She must be.

“Hello, my sweet girl,” Glinda croons, her voice syrupy and false as they embrace. “I’ve missed you so.”

“I’ve missed you too,” Rapunzel replies. “You’ve never been gone for so long.”

“It would have been longer,” Glinda replies, “But, thankfully, I managed to cut my trip down to three weeks so I could return to you sooner, my dear.”

She’s been gone for almost a month. No wonder I didn’t detect her scent before now.

Glinda suddenly stills, her nostrils flaring. Her gray eyes narrow, and my stomach twists in a knot as she sniffs the air.

I hold perfectly still. I’m not sure how good a Goblin’s sense of smell is, but I know it’s more acute than a human’s.

“Has anyone been here?” Glinda asks, voice sharp beneath its honeyed exterior.

“No,” Rapunzel denies. She wrings her hands behind her back as Glinda’s gaze travels around the room, eyes narrowing in suspicion.

Goblins are powerful beings; many of them dangerous. Every muscle in my body is coiled, my hands flexing at my sides as my claws extend. I struggle to remain calm and quiet as my inner fox snarls and rages beneath my skin, read to spring forth and tear this creature apart.

After a moment, Glinda relaxes again. She moves to the sofa and motions for Rapunzel to sit on the floor, in front of her. “Now,” she says. “Let’s do something about all this hair, shall we?”

Rapunzel nods and leans back against the sofa as Glinda undoes her braid and then begins to stroke a silver comb through her long silken hair.

Glinda hums a gentle tune, and Rapunzel closes her eyes, relaxed as Glinda brushes her hair. Her movements are slow and deliberate. A faint glow emanates from Glinda’s hands, a deep purple shimmer that pulses at her fingertips.

My protective instincts flare and I bite back a growl. This is magic, but I don’t yet know her intent.

Even so, I don’t trust her. I’m about to push out of the wardrobe when Rapunzel’s eyes snap to mine. Subtly, she shakes her head.

Clenching my jaw, I force myself to remain where I am. Rapunzel trusts this woman, and I do not want to do anything to upset her. Not without definite cause.

And while I suspect, based upon her scent, that Glinda is a Goblin, I’m not entirely sure. Even if she is what I suspect, not all Goblins practice dark magic. I admit to being wary of them because they are so powerful, but I also know that there are many Goblins who only use their powers for good.

Rapunzel yawns, sagging against the cushions as Glinda continues to sing to her.

“Glinda?” Rapunzel’s voice is barely above a whisper. “It’s been almost three years. Don’t you think it might be safe for me to leave the tower now?”

My ears twitch.

Glinda stills for a moment before resuming her slow, rhythmic strokes. “Oh, my dear,” she coos. “What a dangerous thought.”

Rapunzel turns her head back to look up at her. “Surely the Goblin witch isn’t searching for me anymore?”

Glinda shakes her head. “Rapunzel, darling, do you think a creature of darkness simply gives up?” She tuts, clicking her tongue in disapproval.

A slow pulse of light flickers over her hands.

“No. I’m sure the Goblin witch has armies of vile minions who would tear the world apart to find you. You are far too important to her.”

Ice floods my veins.

“Besides,” Glinda continues. “Your power must be kept secret. If people were to find out you had this, you wouldn’t be safe.”

“But you’re safe,” Rapunzel counters. “And you have magic.”

“Mine is not nearly as strong as yours,” Glinda replies smoothly. “So, I am not as much of a target for those who want power.”

A frustrated look crosses Rapunzel’s face. But instead of arguing her point further, she says, “I just want to see what’s beyond this tower. That’s all.”

“The world is a cruel place, child,” Glinda chides. “Besides, you have everything you could ever want here. Why long for the unknown?”

“But I don’t have everything I want. I want my freedom,” she states firmly.

Glinda stills as a tense silence settles between them, a shadow crossing her features. “Do you have any idea the sacrifices I have made to keep you safe?”

Rapunzel flinches as Glinda’s fingers tighten briefly on her shoulder before relaxing again as she continues.

“The world is far too dangerous, full of bandits and all sorts of monsters. You wouldn’t survive out there.

” She brushes her hand along Rapunzel’s cheek.

“You must trust me. I only want what’s best for you. ”

My jaw tightens, and I bite back a growl. The scent of licorice seems to thicken in the room, making my stomach churn. Glinda is keeping Rapunzel here, feeding her fear, trapping her with lies.