by Kaylin Lee
A guard jumped out of the fomecoach and opened the door to help the Wasp inside. I followed at her heels, too compelled by her command to keep a reasonable distance. The guard hissed and yanked his hand back as I slid past him and onto the velvet seat beside the Wasp.
I busied myself spreading the flimsy gold skirt over my bony knees. The guard huddled against the far window of the fomecoach, his hands clasped between his knees to hide the tremors. I smiled to show I wasn’t a threat, but he flinched. My smile faded. With the strange gold paint on my lips, I probably looked more frightening than usual.
The fomecoach sped through the city streets, swinging wildly this way and that around gaping potholes and tight corners. Draicia was dark these days, even darker than when I was a starving, miserable child in the slums. The luminous streetlamps had all broken or died by now, and there was no one left from the city government to fix them. A hazy cloud of wood smoke covered the city, making it impossible to see the stars or the moon. Perhaps they no longer bothered to shine over Draicia at all.
When I curled up in my cozy chair in the tower, I read stories of smiling families and chubby, giggling toddlers in cities like Lerenia and Asylia, where mages grew vegetables with their powers and provided magical fuel so no one needed to burn wood to cook. The silly stories fueled my daydreams, but I knew they were too fantastic to be true. Draician mages only served the clans, and their magic had but two purposes—pleasure and power.
We sped past flimsy shacks interspersed among grand mage-craft villas that belonged to clansmen. Children begged on the street corners for coins from the rich, dangerous clan youths who roamed at night.
I’d hated living in Draicia as a child, never knowing what danger lurked in the shadows or where my next meal would come from. Now, I lived in an even darker shadow—now, I was the shadow myself.
I fingered the gold dress and pressed my lips together, careful not to smudge the gold paint. This was no kind of life. Impossible or not, I had to escape tonight. At least, I had to try.
~
We reached the far side of the city before the fomecoach slowed to a stop. From the armed, black-clad guards lurking on every corner, I surmised that we were in Wolf clan territory. My old tutor, Master Oliver, had taught me about the clans in my tower, and I’d learned whatever I could on my outings with the Wasp.
The Wasp Queen leaned close, her lips near my ear. “Rapunzel,” she whispered, so softly I could barely hear her. “Obey the manager of the staff in everything. You may speak only when necessary for the success of this outing. I will find you inside and give you further instruction.”
Her command washed over me, and I relished the relaxation of my throat muscles as her previous command faded. When I opened my eyes, the coach door was open, and she was glaring at me.
I climbed out, and the fomecoach sped off before the door was even fully shut. I wobbled on my high heels across the cobblestones. The alley ran along the side of a grand, fenced-off estate packed with massive stone villas—the Wolf compound.
A door in the fence swung open, and a frazzled looking man beckoned to me. “Quickly,” he hissed. “Get in here. You’re late.”
This must be the manager of the staff. My feet propelled me through the gate, and I entered the villa through the servants’ entrance.
He looked over his shoulder at me, and his expression soured even more. “You’re far too thin. It will be a miracle if you pass as one of them.”
I kept quiet. What could I say to that?
The portly manager guided me through a dim maze of hallways and staircases. At last, we reached a large, crowded anteroom with a set of tall, closed doors at one end. The room was full of women in gold shifts like mine. No one spared me a glance.
“Another one for you, Magda. She was late. I’ll dock her pay, of course.”
The tall, olive-skinned woman named Magda looked me up and down and curled her lip. “We’re so desperate to save funds, we must dress up urchins now? She’s lucky the crowd is so thick tonight. We need every pair of hands. Even the skinny ones.”
The sharp-tongued woman gestured over to the far wall, where a line of gold-clad girls balanced trays piled with overfilled wine goblets and small, piping-hot meat pies. The pies looked deliciously greasy, and my stomach ached at the sight. “Over there, girl. If you can’t carry your trays, then you’re back on the streets without pay. We only need girls who can do the work tonight.”
“Yes, ma’am.” I dipped my head in acknowledgement before scooping up two trays from the serving table and joining the line of gold girls. The trays were heavy, but my arms were stronger than they appeared. I hadn’t missed a day of old Master Oliver’s training exercises in years, even when food was scarce and my strength was waning.
The room buzzed with conversation until the manager let out a piercing whistle. The other servants fell silent as we all faced the tall, double doors.
One of the doors opened, and a tired-looking girl in a gold shift slipped into the anteroom with two empty trays. “There are more guests every minute,” she said to Magda, wiping sweat from her forehead. “Best send the fresh ones out, rather than wait.”
Magda tapped the first girl in line, and after an awkward pause, the girl tottered toward the door. “Keep your eyes open,” Magda said as we filed through the door. “No serving one clan over another. No denying any of the guests.”
I crossed the threshold into a cacophony of noises, sights, and smells in the crowded ballroom. Wine splashed over one glass’s rim, and I nearly laughed aloud. No one would notice a bit of spilled wine in a mess like this.
Hundreds of guests filled the Wolf clan ballroom. Luminous chandeliers dripped haphazardly from the ceiling, looking like they’d fall down at any moment. Guests laughed and swayed, some dancing, some fighting, and all drinking heartily.
I kept one eye out for the Wasp Queen as I offered drinks and pies and fended off the occasional swipe at my rear.
The biggest Draician clans had gathered here tonight. I recognized the Wolf clan brothers, the hosts, by their slick, dark hair and barbaric necklaces. Draician legend held that the Wolf clan ancestors had ventured out into the Badlands to hunt during lean times and returned with the teeth of the wolves they’d killed. The clansmen still wore the teeth on straps around their necks, the frightening necklaces at odds with their crisp, black suits, handsome builds, and impeccable grooming.
Wasp clan members in their signature, deep-red garments circulated in twos and threes, but the Wasp Queen was not among them. Members of the Snake clan, with their bronze serpent necklaces, mingled tentatively with the Hawk clan members, easily identified by the feather-covered jewelry they draped on their necks, wrists, and ears. All the dominant families in Draicia were represented except the Tiger clan. Perhaps the Wolves were attempting a show of unity.
No wonder the staff manager worried about showing too much favor to one clan over the other. It was a miracle the clans were all gathered together without bloodshed.
Of course, I corrected myself, my presence ensured the evening would end in murder. Just not yet. I didn’t even know my target, but the Wasp’s command to do no harm kept everyone safe for now.
I served meat pies to a group of boisterous young Hawk clan women. Their warm bodies and perfume made my head ache, and they pressed against me from all sides, jostling against me to snag pies and wine from my trays. I’d been ensconced in my tower for three weeks, lonely and untouched. Now, the crowd was simultaneously too much and not enough. My absorbent power stretched as though waking from a long sleep. I couldn’t help but be aware of the life pulsing around me, the invisible magic that rushed through every living form, putting breath in their lungs and pumping their hearts.
My conscience knew these lives were not mine to take. But my magic? It wanted to absorb every last bit of life it could find.
A man slid his hand around my gold-clad waist. I gritted my teeth but managed to ask, “Would you like some wine, my lord?”
He was a young Wolf, and clearly, he was already quite drunk. One heavy strand of black hair fell into his eyes. He leered down at me as his grip tightened on my waist. “I’d like a little something else,” he mumbled.
My magic pulsed. His life flowed against my skin. If only he knew who he was touching. But I would do him no harm. I couldn’t, thanks to the Wasp’s command. Even if I could, I didn’t want to. I couldn’t resist the Wasp Queen’s control, but at least I still had a conscience. Perhaps a bit of food to absorb the drink in his stomach wouldn’t be a bad idea.
I sidled out of his grip and gave him a meat pie instead. “Have something to eat, my lord.” Then, I made my escape.
The Wasp Queen stepped into my line of sight. She raised one eyebrow at me, and I made my way over, my feet moving of their own accord across the crowded ballroom floor. I held out a glass of wine.
She took it and leaned in close. “Rapunzel, he’s the one. There, with the gold-topped cane. Kill the one I speak to.”
She flitted through the crowd and approached a man with a cane, waving her hand in greeting.
He was an elderly Wolf with salt-and-pepper hair slicked back from his forehead, and his belly was soft and paunchy under his crisply pressed, white shirt. He rubbed his thumb on the top of his cane—a carved, wolf’s head made of gold—as the Wasp Queen approached him.
He bowed over her hand and kissed it. They exchanged words, and she walked away, hips swaying as though she hadn’t a care in the world.
I could only gawk as the pieces fell into place. My target was no lackey. He was the head of the Wolf clan, the host of this gathering. She’d just ordered me to start a clan war.
Click to keep reading Hidden: Rapunzel’s Story
Acknowledgements
Thank you so much to my beta readers, Michelle, Natasha, and mom. Your candid feedback and encouragement made this book what it is today—no question!
And thank you to the many dear friends who believed I could do this and cheered me on the whole way, especially Jenn, Katy, and Megan.
Extra special thanks to my amazing editor Kathrese for seeing the core of this book and putting in incredible work to help it become what it had the potential to be. I don’t know what I would have done without you!
Thank you to my parents, who always think I can do anything I set my mind to. Your confidence means the world to me.
Thank you to my sweet, fearless, strong-willed daughter—my very own princess. You gave me a reason to write a different kind of story about a different kind of fairy tale princess.
Thank you to my husband, for going above and beyond to make sure I get my writing time, and for embracing my nerdiness with only a modest amount of teasing. Love you, babe.
Most of all, thank you to Jesus, the Author of the greatest story in the world and the Creator of creativity itself. I would be nothing without You.
About the Author
Kaylin Lee is an Army wife, mama, and white cheddar popcorn devotee. She lives in the Pacific Northwest with her real-life hero husband and sweet toddler girl. After a lifetime of staying up too late reading stories, she now wakes up too early writing them. It was probably inevitable.