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Tower Of Thorns

Page 3

by Laura Greenwood


  Chapter Four

  "You're to split off into pairs and set off through the woods following the directions on your piece of parchment," the instructor says.

  I look around for one of my friends, forgetting that Ella, Marigold and Helena aren't in this class. During one of our many tea sessions, they told me they'd all done it before.

  "If you don't have anyone else, perhaps you might want to be my partner, Lady Rapunzel?" Gavin's voice says in my ear.

  I jump a little from surprise, but the warmth that spreads through me is enough to make up for that. "I'm not a lady," I point out.

  "To me, you are," Gavin assures me. "Will you do the honours of being my partner?"

  I laugh softly. "Of course. Though I don't think I understand the concept of the class."

  Gavin shrugs. "I think it's a way to make sure we're all getting enough exercise."

  "And all the jousting, dancing, and archery don't do that?" I raise an eyebrow. The lessons here seem particularly energetic sometimes, more so than I expected when I first arrived.

  "Have you ever jousted?"

  "Of course not. They highly recommend the girls don't do it." I roll my eyes. I don't feel the need to get up on a horse and ride at people with sharp sticks, but that doesn't mean I like being told I can't.

  "If you want to, I can take you out on the jousting field," Gavin says.

  "I thought you said you didn't like it?" I ask, recalling one of our earlier conversations.

  I glance over at the teacher, checking he isn't too close. The last thing I want is for one of the staff to overhear what we're saying about the classes. He's talking to two of the other girls, and nowhere near us yet though, so it's fine.

  "I don't, but that doesn't mean I won't take you out there," Gavin assures me.

  An easy smile stretches over my face. "I appreciate it. But don't worry, I don't want to start jousting. It sounds like a good way to get myself injured."

  "Oh, it is. Someone ends up in the medical wing at least once a week."

  I shake my head. "Why do they do it if it's going to hurt them?" It baffles me how anyone can be that foolish.

  Gavin shrugs. "Most of them think it'll impress girls."

  "I can assure you, it doesn't."

  He's saved from responding by the teacher approaching us. "Here are your instructions." He hands me the thin piece of parchment.

  "Thank you." I resist the urge to dip into a curtsy. The teachers don't really expect us to do that unless we're in an etiquette class where everything we do counts.

  The teacher moves on before we can ask him any questions about the aim of the exercise, but I suppose that doesn't matter. Everything is on the paper.

  "I guess they don't pay him enough, then," Gavin mutters under his breath.

  I snort. "Or he hates teaching."

  Gavin slips an arm around me and looks over my shoulder to read the words. "It's a treasure hunt?" Amusement shines through his voice.

  "Apparently. And the others have had a head start."

  "Then isn't it tempting to go find somewhere nice to sit in the woods and talk instead?" he suggests as we set off.

  "Isn't that cheeky, given that we're supposed to be doing what the lesson asks us to?"

  "They'll never know. We could say we got lost," Gavin suggests.

  I smother a giggle. "All right. But if we get caught, I'm blaming you."

  "Deal." He slips his hand into mine as we move further away from the clearing we started from.

  I can vaguely hear the chatter of other students around, but it's distant enough for me not to worry about them stumbling across us and ruining our moment. I swing our hands back and forth, feeling as if I don't have a care in the world, even if that isn't strictly true. Mother sent a message earlier that she's visiting tomorrow, and that's always stressful. It always feels like she doesn't like anything I say or do, and it's only gotten worse since I came to Grimm Academy. Just one more reason I find it odd that I'm here at all.

  "There's a ball next week," Gavin says offhandedly.

  "Mmhmm. Isn't there at least a ball a month?"

  "Two," he responds, then clears his throat. "But I was wondering if you wanted to go with me."

  My heart skips a beat. We've been spending more time together, but part of me worried that he didn't feel the same way. I always dreamed of love, but I never expected it to fall this quickly. We can dance the night away, and perhaps we can kiss. Though there's nothing to say we can't do that right now. How can I make it so that he wants to kiss me now?

  "Rapunzel?" he prompts.

  His words startle me out of the thoughts in my head.

  "Oh, sorry," I begin. "I was just thinking."

  He laughs nervously and rubs the back of his neck. "That's not a good sign if you don't know the answer."

  I stop in my tracks and tug on his hand so he turns around. "Not like that. I definitely want to go to the ball with you."

  His eyes light up, as if he hadn't been expecting me to answer that way. Guilt floods through me. Have I not been giving him the right impression? I want to spend as much time with him as possible. He makes my heart race. Especially when he treats me as an equal. Gavin is everything I dreamed of and more.

  "Dare I ask what you were thinking about, then?" he asks.

  Should I tell him? I don't know how he feels about the two of us kissing, and I don't want to pressure him into things. Perhaps he'll think I'm too pushy if I ask him about it.

  "I was thinking about what kind of dress I was going to make for the ball. I want to look good on your arm, I know it's important to make connections here."

  Gavin chuckles. "You could wear a sack from the kitchens and you'd look beautiful."

  "Somehow I don't think that'll be socially acceptable," I tease.

  The two of us start walking again, but at a slow pace that means we can make the most of the late afternoon sunshine coming through the trees. It's beautiful right now, but I suspect it'do be creepy at night. I hope I'll never find out.

  "Perhaps not. But you can wear whatever you want. Wouldn't the dress you have on now be good enough?"

  A snort escapes me, but I cover it quickly. "I take it you've never learned anything about fashion despite the desire to sew," I tease.

  "Sadly, I don't. I take it that dress isn't right for the occasion?"

  "Definitely not," I admit. "But I enjoy making dresses, so I'll have something."

  "You'll be beautiful no matter what," he assures me.

  I shake my head. "Should I worry about how much you use your charm?"

  "Not at all. You're the only one it ever seems to work on."

  "More shame on me," I respond with a small laugh.

  A horn blows in the distance, and the two of us to stop walking and look at one another.

  "Is that something to do with the treasure hunt?" I ask, scanning the paper again for any information about it.

  "Yes, here it is," Gavin says, pointing to a line at the bottom of the page that said horns would sound when there are fifteen minutes left to find the treasure.

  "If we're going to find the treasure, then we're going to have to get a move on," I point out.

  "Then let's go. We'll have lots of time to spend together at the ball anyway," he says.

  I nod. We will. And I hope it'll lead to the kiss I've been thinking about since we started walking.

  Chapter Five

  I pace back and forth. How am I going to tell Mother about Gavin? She's always cautioned me that I should be careful and watch my heart, and now I have to tell her I'm losing it. I know it's still early days for Gavin and me, but I'm sure there's something between us.

  Plus there's the whole thing where Mother hates me talking to anyone, and making friends is a big no-no.

  The door opens, and Mother sweeps in. Her demure dark gown is a complete contrast to the deep jewel red of my own. Perhaps I should have changed into something she approves of.

  No. I'm not going to be
that girl any more. She wants me to do everything her way, and I know it's mostly because she wants to keep me safe, but it doesn't do me any good. I like to have my own space, and my own chance to grow. I don't need her to be hanging over me and telling me all the things I'm doing wrong.

  "Rapunzel, you look well," she says, eyeing me up and down in a way that suggests she doesn't agree with her statement completely.

  "I am, thank you, Mother," I respond. "Would you like some tea and cakes? I had the maids bring some." I gesture to the two comfortable chairs by the fire, trying not to think about the many conversations Gavin and I have had there already, lest it show on my face.

  "Hmm." She sits on one of them, and begins to pour the tea. She's probably unimpressed that I haven't done it for her.

  With nothing else for it, I pull my skirts to the side so I can take a seat on the chair opposite. "The cakes are delicious," I supply, trying not to let my nerves seep into my voice. I'm sure Mother knows how much she gets to me already, I don't need to let her have more control over me.

  "You should be careful with those cakes, Rapunzel. Your interest in them is starting to show."

  I wait for the sting I know is coming, but to my surprise, it isn't as painful as I expect. Perhaps I'm starting to gain more control over how much she can hurt me with words.

  Instead of saying anything that disagrees with her, I pour my own tea and wait for her to get to the point. Mother never visits without a reason, and I've learned to wait for her to the point or she'll only get angry.

  "How are your studies going?" she asks after a moment.

  "Well, thank you. It's been illuminating coming here." I glance at the floor, hoping she sees it for demureness.

  "Good. You've been sent here to better yourself, Rapunzel. I hope you're not wasting my money."

  I grind my teeth together, trying not to respond sarcastically. Of course, I'm not wasting her money. I don't want to spend my whole life with her, and for that not to happen, I have to learn and become more. "No, Mother," I say instead.

  Something I can't name flits across her face as she studies me. I'm not sure she believes me, but I don't know what to do about that. This is what I hate about being around Mother. I never feel like I can be a good judge of my own destiny. It's just like the prophecies. Another way for me to not have control over my own destiny.

  "I hope you're paying particular attention to the womanly arts and not spending all of your time on politics." She's fishing, and I know it, but it doesn't help. After multiple failed attempts to get my timetable changed, she's relying on me to maintain her rules.

  "Of course," I lie. I'm not sure why she's so focused on me learning things like sewing and cooking. I could have learned those things at home with her. If she wants to talk about a waste of money, then sending me here for those skills is one. Luckily for me, one conversation with the Headmistress and I know Mother isn't learning about the real lessons I'm attending here at Grimm Academy.

  "You should show me some of your work," she says offhandedly.

  "I made this dress," I say instantly, hoping she likes it and approves.

  She purses her lips as she looks me up and down.

  Oh no. Wrong choice. I know this. I have a simple and old-fashioned dress in the closet I'm supposed to answer this question with. I should know better than to draw attention to anything fashionable.

  "The neckline is too low."

  I raise my hand to the edging of my bodice. "It's higher than most of the girls' here," I counter. Why can't I simply stop talking? I'm making things worse for myself with every word I'm saying.

  "Then their Mother's should be here telling them to cover up more," she snaps. "Do you have something you can wear beneath that, or am I going to have to do it for you?"

  I bite my tongue, trying not to let the tears fall. I'm stronger than this. I don't need her approval. Sometimes, I wonder about that. It's almost as if she never wanted a child but somehow ended up with one. I don't like to think about it too much, especially now I'm living here and not at home.

  "I can change before I leave the room," I promise. Though I'm not going to do that when she's not here. My dresses are fine, especially compared to some of the more revealing things the others wear. Of course, some of that is to do with the mix of cultures attending classes here.

  "Good," Mother says.

  I take a sip of my tea to cover up my lack of anything to say.

  "Have you made any friends yet?" Her tone tells me all I need to know. If I say no, she'll admonish me for not being more useful. If I say yes, then she'll demand to meet them to make sure she approves, though she invariably won't.

  I take a deep breath. This is where I can tell her about Gavin. I'm sure she won't approve of him, but if I don't tell her about him, then there's no chance of her proving me wrong.

  "No, but..."

  She sighs dramatically. "Sometimes, I'm not sure you're the same girl I raised. You need to start taking more of an initiative."

  "But, I..."

  "How are you going to get anywhere in life if you don't start talking to people."

  I frown. Why is she saying that? She hates it when I get to know anyone. Once, I tried to make friends with one of our neighbours, and she locked me in a cupboard for a week.

  "Mother, I'm trying to tell you..."

  She holds her hand up to stop me from talking. "It doesn't matter. I have to go." She gets to her feet.

  "You only just got here," I protest, all thoughts of telling her about Gavin gone. There's no point when she's already decided she's leaving me.

  "I was only passing through."

  I wince. How could I forget I'm nothing more than a stopover for her? I'm such a fool.

  "Oh."

  "Make sure you change the dress before you leave the room," she admonishes.

  There's no goodbye as she sweeps from the door. It slams shut behind her.

  I close my eyes and lean back in the chair. One of the tears finally escapes and slides down my cheek. I'm never going to be good enough for her. I should know better than to think I can be.

  "Pull yourself together, Rapunzel," I whisper to myself.

  I sniff away the tears, then open my eyes. The untouched plate of cakes sits on the table in front of me. I lean forward and pick one up, taking a bite. No matter what Mother says, I know there isn't a problem with my weight. Not when I go riding almost daily, and go up and down all the stairs to my room.

  I rise to my feet and move over to the small oval mirror standing on the dressing table. My eyes are a little puffy from the threat of tears. No matter, I have time. I expected Mother to stay longer, so I have time to bathe before my next lesson. I pull the chord that'll summon one of the maids so she can draw a bath in the dedicated room on the floor below. I wish I could bathe in the comfort of my own room, but I can appreciate why that isn't possible.

  I pile all the things I'll need on my bed, and skip finding something new to wear. This dress is still clean, and it's perfectly acceptable attire in the academy, even if Mother doesn't think so.

  Besides, it doesn't matter what she thinks. I'm going to be my own person whether she likes it or not. I hate how weak I feel when she's around, but there's only one person who can make me strong. And that starts now.

  Chapter Six

  "Lord Gavin and Lady Rapunzel," the announcer calls.

  Nothing happens within the ballroom, though that doesn't surprise me. No one cares who enters and when. Out in the real world, I imagine they do, but here at Grimm, it's simply other students coming in, and as everyone knows everyone, it's the least exciting thing imaginable.

  Ella waves at me from across the room, wearing one of her signature blue dresses. I don't think I've ever known someone who stuck to the same colour quite as much as she does. Though I can see why, it looks good on her.

  I wave back at her, we've had tea a few more times, and I get along well with her other friends too. It's almost strange how seamlessly I've slot
ted into their group, though I appreciate it. I want to have connections here.

  "Is she a friend of yours? We can go over if you'd like?" Gavin offers.

  I frown. "You'd do that?"

  "Of course. Why wouldn't I?"

  I don't have an answer for that. I'm not sure there is one. Not when I don't want to admit things about Mother to him.

  "Sorry, I've not had a...whatever this is before," I say instead. "I'm not sure how it works."

  He chuckles. "It's a courtship," he points out.

  Oh. I suppose that makes sense. We spend a lot of time in my room talking and drinking tea, and now we're at one of the academy's balls together.

  "I don't think I realised," I mutter sheepishly.

  "That's my fault," he insists. "I never asked you formally." He rubs the back of his neck.

  I turn around to face him, my ball gown swishing along the floor as I do. "It's not your fault," I insist. "We could both have said something about it."

  His hand trails around my waist as I turn, but he doesn't stop touching me. A small thrill runs through me at the contact. He always makes me feel as if I'm the most important thing in the room. With him, I feel strong like I want to. A complete contrast to how I felt when Mother last visited. Or when she visits at all.

  "That's true," he says. "I love that about you. There's no pretence that we're not equals."

  I beam up at him. And not just because he's used the word love, though it is partly that. But he gets it. He understands that I don't want to play second best to anyone. That I won't do that.

  "We are equals," I agree. "And that means that if something like this is your fault, then it's my fault too."

  "In which case, would you like to ask me to court you?"

  I laugh lightly. "Gavin, would you do the honour of officially courting me?" I ask.

  "I would love nothing better," he responds. "In honour of this moment, may I have this dance?" He steps back, his touch vanishing and leaving me feeling surprisingly cold.

  He bows flamboyantly and holds out a hand. I place mine in it. The smile is starting to make my cheeks hurt, but I can't stop it. This night is far too perfect.

 

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