Page 23 of Zel (The GriMM Tales #2)

“I don't think that’s it precisely,” Sophie countered. “Well, he is , but he made me promise to not say anything about all he's been doing for us. I think he simply sees it as right to aid us, because like him, we are without our Rapunzel.”

Oh Rudy . He always had been more selfless than the average pickpocket.

Zel missed him. Other than Zel’s parents, Rudy had been his only constant, even without counting their physical dalliances.

For so long Zel had wished he could love Rudy the way Rudy loved him, but dear as Rudy was to him and always would be, he couldn't wish for that any longer, not after knowing Ulrich.

Not after knowing what truly wanting someone felt like.

Gregor sighed, seemingly lost in thought.

“What?” Sophie asked.

“Whether Rapunzel lives as a he or she, if it’s a man our child chooses to marry, we’ll never be grandparents. Does that ever bother you? I’m not saying it bothers me, but—”

“It doesn’t bother me,” Sophie said, “because it isn't a parent's place to want grandchildren.

It's a parent's place to want their child to live freely and happily, better than they did, whether that includes grandchildren or not, and regardless of whatever it does include.

Besides, just because Rapunzel might not father a child and cannot birth one doesn't mean grandchildren are out of the question. We were orphans after all.”

Gregor looked over at Sophie with pure adoration.

“What now?” She chuckled.

“How did I get so lucky as to have a woman as wonderful as you in my life?”

“As I recall, I pursued you, and you were wise enough to let me catch you.”

“Too true.”

They kissed, an act taken as easily as breathing. They loved each other as if no other choice had ever entered their minds.

Zel wanted that too.

“Now,” Sophie said, “let’s play a little something before dinner, shall we? I have had this song in my head all day!” She claimed a violin from one of their displays, while Gregor pulled out his flute.

What Sophie began to play and sing, which Gregor soon accompanied, was the same song they used to play and sing to Zel as a lullaby.

The moon is risen, beaming, the golden stars are gleaming so brightly in the skies; the hushed, black woods are dreaming, the mists, like phantoms seeming, from meadows magically rise.

And lo, there Zel was, so near the Dark Forest, the deep, black woods , far from home, longing for the comfort of his parents beyond just their faces and voices.

He sang the next verse in harmony with his mother.

How still the world reposes, while twilight round it closes, so peaceful and so fair! A quiet room for sleeping, into oblivion steeping the day’s distress and sober care.

Zel had to finish the mission for their sakes.

“I will not fail,” he whispered. “I will succeed. I am ready for this. I am fierce and beautiful and capable… because of you.”

He joined them again by singing.

Look at the moon so lonely! One half is shining only, yet she is round and bright; thus oft we laugh unknowing at things that are not showing, that still are hidden from our sight.

“Zel?”

Zel snapped his hand away from the orb, and the images and sound halted. Ulrich had exited the magical chamber only a few strides away from him.

“You needn’t stop on my account.” Ulrich approached with a soft smile, as handsome and majestic as ever. “May I ask what you were looking in on? What you were singing sounded lovely. I think I might even know that one. But are you all right?”

It seemed unbidden moisture had flooded Zel’s eyes because when he blinked, his vision blurred. It was only a song, and he was certain Ulrich couldn’t hear what came from the orb anyway, so he returned his fingers to it. “I was checking on my parents. I miss them more than I realized.”

Another easy truth, but omission still felt like lying when Zel wished he didn’t have to.

Ulrich stepped closer, watching Sophie and Gregor through the glass.

“Is that your music shop?” he asked.

“Yes. Pied Pipers.”

“Would you often sing and play together?”

“Almost every night. Sometimes for members of the guild too.”

“I am sorry I cannot hear you all together. If I touched the orb, the vision would vanish. It is only intended for one. But… would you perhaps play that song for me from the beginning?” Ulrich produced what appeared to be the same violin as the one Zel had used on their first night and many since.

He looked back at his parents in the orb, bid them a silent farewell, and removed his hand, returning the contents to green mist and stopping the sounds of music in his mind.

But Zel could create his own. “I don’t suppose you know how to play any instruments to accompany me? ” he asked as he accepted the violin.

“I am afraid I never learned, but I do know the words to that song.”

“I thought you wouldn’t sing for me.”

“Not alone ,” Ulrich scoffed. “But in harmony with you, Zel, I can try.”

Once again, Zel was charmed, but for the first time…

It hurt .

Zel moved to the middle of the room, and as he began to play, and then added his voice, Ulrich harmonized with him using his deep, haunting resonance.

He had a lovely voice to be so timid about it, but it surprised Zel that playing and singing with Ulrich filled him with the same joy he used to feel at home with his parents.

Do not mourn your marks. They are already dead.

Zel had to finish this. He had to.

Tomorrow night, he would move forward.

Tonight, he would enjoy what he could.

ULRICH

“ Y ou wish to go to the city? To a tavern?”

“I wish to accompany you to a tavern, my lord,” Zel explained. It was the next night, nearing the evening meal. “Or are we to never leave the walls of this tower other than for strolls through the wood? You did say you leave often. Do you never go into the villages or city?”

Ulrich was no fool and allowed his smile to reveal that he knew he was being goaded. “I sequestered myself in this tower to stay away from others, remember? But yes, I do visit the city from time to time. In disguise, of course.”

Zel had already dressed for the occasion, it seemed, in one of the outfits brought along rather than one made from the loom, complete with bodice, petticoats, and—Ulrich assumed—corset and chemise. The more traditional garb wouldn’t prevent stares, however, pretty as Zel was.

Zel also wore the pendant from Rudy that Ulrich begrudged, but it matched the gold and emerald hairpin Ulrich had given Zel, which helped assuage his jealousy.

“Then tell me, my lord, will you grant your bride-to-be this request?” Zel held out a hand to Ulrich, who had been reading while lounging on the chaise.

Ulrich set his book aside, took Zel’s hand, and stood. “How could I refuse? But I assume you expect some magical transport to get us there promptly?”

“We wouldn’t arrive until nearly tomorrow otherwise. I imagine you have your ways.”

“I do. We will need to gather some of the rapunzel to bring with us, so you do not go without tonight when we have our evening meal.”

“I had a feeling you would suggest that and already have some in my pockets.” Zel opened one to show Ulrich the bursting of greenery.

“And where will we be going?”

“Hessen House. A bit rowdy at times, but it has the best options for food and drink.”

“I do not know it. I can blink us out of existence to arrive somewhere new in an instant, but I can only do so to places I have been before, much like how the orb works. Once in the city, you will have to be our navigator to this rowdy tavern known for its food and drink.” Ulrich took Zel’s arm, and as he did so, his simpler elven guise overtook him, also forming more appropriate attire for a young man of the time.

Sorcerer robes were not the current fashion.

“Do you have everything you require?” he asked.

Zel squeezed Ulrich’s arm and looked up at him with a bat of those alluring lying eyes. “I do.”