Rapunzel: The One With All the Hair Read online

  Since there is nothing I can do about it now, I must try to relax and listen to the jester’s song. He is singing about a great knight riding out at dawn on his trusty steed in search of a missing princess. I am wondering why princesses always go missing, when I notice that my friend Andrew, the page, has come into the room with a tray of mead. He is about to hand one to Mum when he catches sight of us. (Elkin’s hair practically glows, and is thus very eye-catching). I put my finger to my lips, but it is already too late. In his surprise, Andrew lets the goblet slip out of his hand. Mead spills onto Mum’s lap (and, therefore, Annabelle’s lap), the goblet crashes to the floor, the jester stops jesting, the knight stops rescuing, and Elkin and I are caught red-handed (or red-haired, as the case may be).

  We guiltily get to our feet while Andrew and the maids scramble to clean Mum and Annabelle. Mum does not look happy to be pawed at by three different maids and a page. Poor Andrew. He was never very fond of Elkin (who is, really?) but I know he feels bad for unwittingly blowing our cover. I must admit, it is nice having someone else be the cause of a spill now and again. Usually it is my own clumsiness that causes people to have to change their clothes.

  “That’s quite enough,” Mum says, holding up her hand. “I shall retire to my chambers for the night. The hour has grown late.” She shakes her head meaningfully at Elkin and me, and we shrink back toward the wall. She lifts Annabelle onto one hip, picks up her skirts with her free hand, and swooshes out of the room. Then everyone turns their attention back to us. Even the jester is glaring, which truly does not seem necessary. After all, it was not we who spilled the wine. Well, not directly.

  “Explain,” Father says, his deep voice rumbling. He is a king of few words.

  Elkin and I exchange quick glances. This is the part where he would usually blame it all on me, like the time we were ten and got caught putting a live eel in the cook’s lunch sack. Elkin claimed it was all my idea — which it was NOT — and I was made to sweep the floors in the dining room for a week. The cook boiled up the eel and served it for dinner, so no harm was truly done. Except, perhaps, to the eel.

  But now Elkin surprises me and says, “Forgive me, uncle. It was my fault. Benjamin did not want to disobey you.”

  I could not be more surprised if I had just heard that I was going to be allowed to be a knight after all. Father looks from one of us to the other, thoughtfully. Father believes a good ruler never blurts out what he is thinking without fully weighing it from all angles.

  I am banished to my room (again), alone this time. Father has decided that Elkin is not a good influence on me.

  I would turn to the adventures of Roland the Great Knight for comfort, but my book has been taken away from me in punishment. Annabelle runs into my room on her short little legs, flings herself onto the bed, stands and jumps off the bed, then runs out. All without saying a word.

  How I long for the innocence of youth.

  I have been crying and am not ashamed to admit it. I miss my parents even though they traded me for a stinking herb. (Literally, it stinks. Sometimes I can’t get it out of my dresses for weeks, no matter how hard I rub.)

  I am hungry and my bones ache from the miserable sleeping arrangements. I need to get hold of myself. I decide to take inventory of supplies. This is what I own:

  1 wooden chest

  1 scratchy wool blanket that was left on the straw “bed”

  3 pink ribbons for my hair

  4 beeswax candles and 20 wooden matches

  1 sheepskin belt with 6 tiny bells strung on it

  5 dresses

  3 pieces of vellum with which to record my last will and testament

  1 goose quill to write with and a pot of ink that, thankfully, did not spill in transport

  2 white feathers that have wafted in through the window

  1 pair of leather-soled boots

  1 small mirror (in which I can see my pimple growing by the second)

  1 metal comb

  1 tin of healing ointment that Mother concocted from last season’s rampion harvest. (I am tempted to throw this out the window.)

  1 shawl that used to be in my infant crib. Mother knit it for me.

  And that’s all. That’s everything I have to my name.

  I weep some more. When I am done and have wiped my eyes, I suddenly notice a silver plate piled high with food sitting in the center of the rug. Was it there this whole morning? I circle around the food a few times before picking up the plate and taking it to the small table. Ground mutton and onions. Not my normal breakfast, but nothing is normal anymore.

  Once the food is in my belly, I begin to feel better. I’m sure my parents will come for me today. The witch has made her point. How long could she really keep me a prisoner? My father has some stature in the village. She can’t get away with kidnapping me for long. I am sure of it.

  EVENING

  I am no longer sure of anything. It is dark and stuffy in here. I am alone (except for the ghostly breathing that I swear I still hear but am trying valiantly to ignore). I have lit another candle, but it is burning quickly and I have only three left. My hair hurts. I hadn’t known that hair could hurt, but it does. I will soon develop a headache. Normally my mother would have unpinned it from my head and brushed it out after supper. If yesterday had gone as it was supposed to, I wouldn’t have all this hair anymore. It would be a sensible length, perhaps gently gracing my shoulders.

  My tears have run dry. I shall cry no more for now.

  LATER THAT EVENING

  I hear a scurrying sound like fingernails skittering along the stone floor. I am curled up in a very small ball and have buried my head under my shawl. It smells faintly of Mother’s scent. And — ugh — of rampion.

  My punishment has been lifted. Mum has a soft spot for me, her only son, the future king. I might as well have stayed in bed, though, because today was very annoying. This is what I did:

  Fished for eels in the pond with Elkin and was tempted to push him into the water, but did not since, after all, he told the truth for once when we got caught behind the couch.

  Chased a hare across the banks, then felt guilty. Felt wimpy for feeling guilty and chased it some more.

  Discovered a new pimple growing on my forehead. Covered it with my hair until Mum told me that I looked like a tall brown mop and pushed it back to its proper position. Elkin laughed and pointed at the red spot. He is quickly losing any ground he may have gained last night.

  After supper, I chewed some fresh mint and sage to lessen the pimple’s swelling. The herbs might have been rancid, because my belly aches now. Or perhaps I am being punished for chasing the hare. I shall try to find him tomorrow to apologize. I am retiring early tonight with The Adventures of Roland to keep me company.

  Elkin is going home early! My aunt is coming to fetch him today. He was supposed to stay all summer, but it turns out Elkin is to be engaged to a princess from a neighboring kingdom! Mum made the announcement at breakfast this morning. Elkin turned pale, causing his freckles to stand out even more. I choked on my bread and had to be smacked on the back by the closest serving maid. When I was done choking, I asked, “Is his wife three years old?”

  Mum shot me a disapproving look. “The young lady is of suitable age, I assure you both.”

  Elkin’s normally buggy eyes were huge then. He asked gravely, “When is this marriage due to take place?”

  Mum laughed. “Not for a few years, child. Your days of mischief aren’t over quite yet.”

  Elkin let out a huge breath. “Thank goodness!”

  After breakfast, Elkin went to his bedchambers to pack and I went into the sitting room and did a little jig. (When no one is around to make me nervous, I am not nearly as clumsy.)

  Now I am sitting on a bench outside, watching the falconer train the hawks on the Great Lawn. I hear the pounding of horses’ hooves on the rocky path before I see them. A moment later, the royal courier announces the arrival of my aunt’s gilded carriage. Their kingdom