Ravishing Rapunzel (Passion-Filled Fairy Tales, #6)(33)

She sighed as she washed and dried their breakfast dishes. She would put all the mess away, and mother Gothel would be none the wiser when she got back from her trip. She was almost finished tidying when she heard her mother call out. “Rapunzel, Rapunzel, let down your hair.”

Rapunzel startled. It had to be just shortly after noon. Her mother was early. She usually came home in the early evening.

Rapunzel wiped her wet hands on her dress and went to the window to look out. Dressed in the cloak, smiling up at her, was Mother Gothel.

“You’re early,” Rapunzel called out.

“I know,” her mother called back.

Rapunzel slipped her braid through the iron loop and let it flow downward. She felt the old woman grab hold and begin the climb. Mother Gothel was quite agile for a woman of her age. She was to the top in no time and greeting Rapunzel with a smile.

“I came early, hoping you’d decided to join me,” she said with glee in her voice. “Well not just me, all the FaeRisen.”

Rapunzel forced herself not to grimace. She tried to look neutral. She didn’t want to join the group, but her mother’s glee at the prospect seemed to be a good way to appease the woman long enough that she and Bradyn could escape. Surely, if they had enough of a head start, her mother would lose their trail. She would let Rapunzel go.

“Rapunzel dear, what’s wrong with you?” her mother shouted.

She stared at her mother, who looked furious. “Nothing, mother.”

“I’ve been talking to you and you haven’t been listening a bit. What’s the matter?”

Rapunzel put a hand to her forehead, and said. “I’ve not been feeling well, mother. Just a little tired. Perhaps too much air. I’ve been sitting in the garden for longer periods, trying to see if I might be getting better.”

Gothel eyed her closely. “The garden is magic. It’s protected. It’s always been a safe place for you, love. Sitting out there will not help you, nor will it make you ill.”

Rapunzel forced a smile and shook her head. “Then maybe I’m just taken ill. Do you mind if I lie down in my room, mother?”

Gothel stared at Rapunzel and finally nodded, saying, “You do look a bit peaked.” Rapunzel went upstairs to her room and lay down. She actually wasn’t feeling the best. She hoped it wasn’t because she’d been out. The idea that her mother could be right, that she’d misjudged her illness and it was simply coming later, disturbed her. If her mother was right, then all her plans, to explore the world, would not come to pass. She would be forever stuck here in this tower.

No, she told herself. She couldn’t think that way. She just wasn’t feeling well. It wasn’t related to her time out of the tower, nor was it related to her acts of love with Bradyn. Had it not been for her aunt Giselle, she might have been more chaste with Bradyn. But the stories her aunt had sent her, they’d been tales of love, deep love. A kind, mature love that demanded the physical to bring it to completion. It is what she had with Bradyn, and she adored it.

She lay in her bed and closed her eyes. What seemed like moments later, Mother Gothel was shaking her awake. “You’ve been sleeping all afternoon,” Mother Gothel said.

That couldn’t be right. Rapunzel opened her eyes and could tell by the orange glow pouring into the room that the sun was setting. “Oh mother,” she said, apologetically. “I didn’t mean to sleep so long. I’m so sorry. She sat up and started to climb out of the bed. “I’ll go start dinner.”

“No need, Rapunzel,” Gothel said. “I’ve already made us dinner. I made a special something that I hoped would make you feel better.”

Rapunzel nodded. That was nice of her mother. She was always most solicitous and kind when Rapunzel was sick. The few times Rapunzel had gotten sick from being out too long, her mother had babied her and nursed her back to health. They were some of Rapunzel’s fondest memories, especially since her mother spent so little time with her otherwise.

They went to the lower level of the tower and there on the table were two fresh salads. As she got closer, she realized what was on her plate. “Mother, is that rapunzel?”

Gothel nodded. “Yes, it is. You seem fatigued, and I think this mix of greens from my garden will give you just what you need.”

Rapunzel sat down in her chair, and looked up at her mother. “But you don’t have any rapunzel. Aren’t you going to have some, mother?”

Gothel sat across from her, her own plate filled with greens but no rapunzel. “I’m not ill,” Gothel replied. “The rapunzel will help you, I think. Eat up.”

Despite her feelings of unease at Mother Gothel’s behavior, Rapunzel ate her salad. And after eating, she felt better. Immensely better. Her energy had returned. She cleaned the dishes and offered to tidy up a bit. Her mother was still sitting at the table sipping on tea. Rapunzel fluffed a pillow for one of the chairs, as she said, “Mother, that rapunzel did the trick. I feel so much better.”

It was with that last phrase that she heard the dish shatter. She turned to see that her mother was standing there over a broken tea cup, her eyes filled with pure hate. They were turning violet, and beginning to glow. She was angry.

“Mother, what’s wrong?” Rapunzel asked, walking toward her.

“Whore,” she spat, her voice filled with quiet rage.