Ravishing Rapunzel (Passion-Filled Fairy Tales, #6)(13)

“I’m older,” Rapunzel said, her tone even. “At this age, we do not get as giddy.”

Gothel frowned again. “You’re too young to stop being giddy, dear. It’s one of my favorite joys in seeing you.”

Rapunzel nodded and leaned toward her mother. From a bag, Gothel pulled out two boxes. One was about the size of a large book, and the other was a small cube, about six inches on each side. Curious, Rapunzel picked up the cube, which was wrapped in pink paper and tied with a ribbon. “What is it?”

Gothel laughed, a sharp but merry sound, and said, “Open it, dear. What fun is there in me telling you the answer?”

Rapunzel obliged, pulling away the ribbon and gently removing the paper to find a carved wooden box, with a hinged lid. When she opened it, music started to play, and out popped a porcelain figure of a girl and a boy dancing. The girl wore a fancy ball gown and the boy was dressed in a fine suit. The melody that played was gentle, yet cheerful and Rapunzel couldn’t help but smile. “It’s lovely,” she said, turning to her mother. “Where did you find it?”

“Oh, here or there,” she said. “In my travels, I’m always running across a shop or two, and I know how much you like those books Giselle sends. I thought you’d like this.”

Rapunzel nodded. “I do, mother. I do.” Rapunzel lifted the box to examine it further and saw it was engraved with her name. “That’s lovely, mother.”

Gothel smiled, a genuine toothy grin that seemed to smooth away some of the wrinkles on her aging face. “I thought you’d enjoy that. Now, go on and open the other one, love.”

Rapunzel nodded and opened the other one, one that was clearly a large book. She took great care in opening it, and not ruffling the fine lacy paper. When it was unwrapped, she saw a thick leather-bound book with only the imprint of a ship on it. For a moment, Rapunzel wondered if her mother had gotten her a book like Giselle. Her heart lifted as she thought, perhaps her mother intended to relinquish her hold on her. She opened the book to the first page and disappointment reared as she saw it was a large picture of a landscape, a place she hadn’t seen before, but just a painting. She turned another page, and then another, and they were all miniature portraits. Not a hint that her mother would maybe let her bloom into the womanhood her aunt had anticipated.

“What’s wrong, child? I thought you would adore it.”

Rapunzel turned to her mother, deciding she would be honest. She looked at the little portraits. They were magnificent views. “I do like it, mother, I just was expecting, hoping for a different gift.”

Gothel raised an eyebrow. “What kind of a gift?”

“To go outside again, mother,” she said, looking towards the window and the evening sky. “I miss exploring, I miss sitting in the grass or wandering until I found a stream.” She looked up at her mother’s white hair, and then reached out and touched it. “Mother you’re getting older, and I can’t count on you forever to bring me things. I want to be able to venture out and try things on my own.”

Gothel shook her head. “The world is dangerous, child,” she said, admonishment in her tone. “The people out there are awful and cruel. I have had to deal with such cruelty in my life, child, yet I’ve spared you from it all. I’ve kept you safe from all that evil. You’re pure and safe here. What more could you want? I bring you everything.”

“I want to go out, mother,” she said, her voice sharp. “You go out.”

“But you’re sickly, child,” she said. “You get ill in the air. Remember what happened last time?”

Rapunzel bit her lower lip. She did remember feeling ill after she’d snuck out without her mother’s permission. “But you have great powers, mother,” she said. “I know you don’t like to discuss your power, but I know you use your power to help people, to vanquish the evil ones. Surely, you can use your power to help me, so I can go out at least a bit.”

Gothel shook her head. “I am powerful, child, but not in the ways that you desire. My magic can tame the villain, but I can only punish the wrongdoers with my magic. The only aid I can provide the innocent is to put my protective arm over them and help them to safety, as I have done with you. I have kept the evil away. I have kept you safe from the wickedness.”

Rapunzel frowned. “But you help so many, mother. Surely there must be something you can do.”

“It is true that I am a rescuer of young maidens, Rapunzel,” she said, patting her daughter’s hand. “When I leave, I often help them, keeping them chaste, keeping them away from lewd and suggestive men who would hurt them. I protect them because no one else in their lives does. Like with you. Your parents abandoned you, and I saw you there and knew you needed love and care. You, my child, I make the most efforts to protect. I have kept you safest of all.”

Rapunzel sighed and looked at the floor. She had to remember that she was lucky to have Mother Gothel, that if it hadn’t been for her, she’d have died. She gritted herself against the bitterness trying to take hold. She had to accept that this was a losing argument. Mother Gothel had her own opinions about the world. It shouldn’t matter that Mother Gothel’s opinions didn’t jibe with Aunt Giselle’s. It shouldn’t matter that every tale Giselle told of the world at large was filled with kindness, joy, or humor. Gothel and Giselle saw the world differently, but did they truly live in different worlds?