Ravishing Rapunzel (Passion-Filled Fairy Tales, #6)(41)

“What’s happened to you, my love?” she said. “It is I, Rapunzel.”

He opened his mouth, but only that mournful wail emerged.

Rapunzel stared at him, and she realized his eyes were blistered shut. He was blind, and his voice was gone. It finally hit her that this is what Mother Gothel had done to him. He was blind and unable to speak, and it was all her fault. She cried. Tears of joy for finding him, tears of pain for the sorrow she caused him, tears of relief that he was alive, even if in this condition. She wept and wept, the tears running down her face and onto his, the tears coating his eyes, and running down his cheeks and into his mouth

And after she had tears no more, she just wrapped her arms around him and held him, for he was hers, and he was back, and that was all that mattered to her in the entire world.

“Rapunzel,” Bradyn said, his voice a croak.

She released him and stared. His eyes were open now and he was speaking. “What happened? You were blind. You couldn’t speak.”

He shook his head. “I don’t know,” he said. “I felt a tingling when your tears hit my eyes, and when they dripped onto my lips. It felt like I was cured.”

“Cured? But how?”

“I don’t know,” he admitted, but a huge smile was on his lips. “I don’t’ know, but I don’t care. All I know is that after all my wandering, I’ve finally found you. I wanted only to hear your beautiful voice once more before I died.”

She frowned. “Don’t say such things. I don’t wish you to die.”

“My heart was lost without you, and I was ready to give up,” he said.

“My heart was the same, almost,” she said. “I would have given up long ago were it not for our children.”

Bradyn’s eyes widened. “Children? You mean …”

Rapunzel nodded. “My mother cast me out when she realized I was with child. It turned out I was with two children.”

“Two,” he said, still astonished. “Our children?”

Rapunzel nodded, pulling his hands into hers. “Yes, our beautiful children. Thank God, I’ve found you, finally.”

“She blinded me and made it so I couldn’t speak. I wandered, and scrounged for food. Sometimes people took pity on me and gave me food, while other times I had to use my sense of smell to find a berries and plants that were edible.”

Rapunzel felt a fresh wave of tears trying to break free. “I’m so sorry,” she said.

“It’s not your fault,” he said.

“She was my---” Rapunzel shook her head. “She wasn’t even my mother. She stole me from my parents. But, she only knew you because of me.”

“Let’s talk no more of her,” Bradyn said. “I want to see my children. Where are they?”

Rapunzel, smiled. “Not far,” she said. With that, she stood, and helped him up. “Let’s go home, my love,” she said.

“Yes, we have a lot of lost time to make up for.”



*

Rapunzel and Bradyn lived briefly with her parents, and were married in a local church. Then they returned to his kingdom, bringing her parents with them. There, they lived happily ever after.





Epilogue


Giselle had just finished putting on the kettle to make herself some tea when there was a knock at the door to her apartment. This was strange, because it was late at night, and Giselle lived in an apartment above her quiet shop, which was closed for the evening. She wondered at how anyone could even get in to knock on the upstairs door.

And that’s when she had an inkling of who might be there. She pursed her lips, walked over to the door and opened it. Gothel stood there, low and stooped, a frown on her face. Giselle folded her arms across her chest. “I’ve told you the condition upon which I’d see you again.”

Gothel’s violet eyes glimmered with a humility Giselle hadn’t seen in a long time. “I’ve been thinking,” Gothel said, her voice soft, thoughtful. “I’ve been thinking that maybe the magic, maybe the good I’ve thought I’ve been doing isn’t so good.”

Giselle breathed out and unfolded her arms, motioning for her sister to come in. The woman hobbled in, looking worse for the wear. It was amazing, Giselle thought, that Gothel was her younger sister. She looked far, far older than her years. But perhaps all that magic had taken too much of a toll on her.

Giselle’s apartment was one floor, with a bedroom in the back and in front a large room for her entertainment and cooking, a stove in the corner, a table nearby and some chairs and a sofa in the remainder of the room. She motioned for her sister to sit at the table while she readied two mugs and tea leaves, and soon enough the pot was ready and the tea poured.

Gothel wrapped her hands around the cup, seeming to take pleasure in its warmth, held it to her lips, blew and then took a sip. She set the cup down and finally spoke, “I’m sorry, Giselle.”

“It’s not me you should apologize to, Gothel,” she said. “Your daughter is the one who needs apologizing to. And those people, Rosalind and Eldon. You told me they didn’t want the child.”

Gothel’s eyes stared at the table, unable to look at her sister. “I wanted a child, someone to love and protect.”

“She wasn’t yours,” Giselle said, trying not to sound too harsh. She’d been appalled when she’d heard from her niece, gone to visit, and learned the truth. Her niece had understood Giselle knew nothing of her sister’s deceit, but she still felt partly responsible for not having seen more. She’d been too caught up in her own life, her own husband, who’d died a few years ago, and her own daughter, who was now happily married out in the country.