“She will love it,” Nick said. He held out his hand, and the blacksmith shook it. “It is wonderful. You have done a marvelous job.” He reached into one of the desk drawers and pulled out the bag of coin he had set aside for the box. “Is the price the same as we discussed?”
The blacksmith nodded.
“Good,” Nick said, tossing him the bag. “And for your speed, sir.” He handed him another bundle of coins.
“I thank ye, my lord.” The man grinned. “If ye need anything else, my lord, please do not hesitate.”
Nick grinned. “I may just do that. I might be needing jewelry soon.”
“As ye need, my lord.” The blacksmith smiled and ducked his head as he left. Nick picked up the box, wrapping it back in its linen.
Rapunzel’s birthday present was ready. He needed to take it to her.
Chapter 25
From where I lay in bed, I could see the moon hanging low in the sky, crouched over the horizon as if making ready for its race with the sun. Which meant the torment of the day had passed. Finally passed. I had not been able to force myself from the bed that morning and had spent the entire day curled there, running the end of my braid through my hand.
My birthday was in two days, which meant Mother…Gothel would be returning soon. Unlike any of her other trips, I knew that, this time, she would not be late. I could almost feel her coming back, like the change in the air before a storm.
I still felt sick to my stomach thinking of what Mother…what Gothel had done. She was no more my mother than the wind. I wished I could believe love or desperation had driven her to such lengths, but it could not be so. M…Gothel had never shown me warmth or affection, never acted like I was anything other than a burden.
The night crept upon me, more imposing than it usually seemed, and I turned from my window, no longer willing to brave the dark. Something was coming. I could feel it in the air, and it gave me chills. I forced the thoughts back, afraid suddenly for Nick–what if something happened to him?
It did not stand thinking about. I could not bear his loss on top of all the others. He had come to me when I was lonely and been my friend. He had woken me from a nightmare I had believed real. I ran my fingertips softly over my shoulder and, for a moment, was trapped in the memories of his touch. Heat rushed through me until I felt my skin would burst into flame. Still, I could not keep from reaching around my body to touch the mark.
It was the proof of my identity. That I was not Gothel’s child, but a missing daughter. My birthday was no longer a day of even meager celebration, for it was the day I was stolen from my proper family.
What would they be like? Would I resemble them? Would they believe that their missing child had been found? I found it beautiful, sad but beautiful, that they had never given up and had continued to look for their child for so long. I could not imagine such determination, such hope.
Hope. Something I rarely had. Now it seemed so possible and so abundant, I knew not what to do with it. I could not read the letter Nick had left. Not all of it, in any case. But I had seen the last few lines.
From our hearts to yours, we thank you, Nicolas.
For you continue to bring us hope.
Perhaps someday, we all will find what we seek.
Hope seemed something that Duchess von Stroebel had never lost. I wished to find her, if only to hug her and thank her for never giving up on her stolen daughter. It was still hard to sew the pieces together. Rapunzel with Katherina. A burdensome, foolish female, with a longed-for, sought-after daughter. I tucked the letter into my pillow with Nick’s other letters.
Nick…
He had promised to return today. I hoped he came soon, for I truly did wish to see him. My thoughts were so patchy and loose, maybe he could help me pin them down again. Or at least distract me.
He could touch my arm, as he had before. Run his fingertips so softly over the skin there. Maybe even kiss me…
I let out a giggle, thinking about the feel of his lips against mine. It seemed an eternity since he had kissed me. Another lifetime ago, when I was still Gothel’s daughter…
I growled and got off my bed, pacing around my room.
“This is ludicrous,” I muttered.
I tugged at my braids and noticed they were beginning to unravel. Tufts poked out along the lengths. They needed to be rebraided very badly. If Gothel returned and my braids looked so terrible, she would immediately wonder what I had been doing all this time and I did not wish to arouse her suspicion.
Sitting on the edge of the bed, I grabbed the bottom of the plaits and unfastened them. Carefully, I combed out the ends, slowly working my way up the strands.
I had not made much progress, when I heard Nick’s call.
“Rapunzel, Rapunzel, let down your hair, so I may ascend thy golden stair.”
I ran to the window, stumbling over my braid and thumping into the windowsill. Nick stood below, his blue riding cloak shining in the moonlight.
I smiled at him, and threw my braids over the sill. Bracing myself on the window, I watched him. For a moment, he stroked the loose ends where they brushed the ground, then began his ascent. He looked strange today–like his cape had bunched on his back.
“Are you all right?” I asked as he climbed.
“Could not be better, Tressey,” he said, glancing at me. “Your hair is unbraided at the bottom.”
I smiled. “I know. It is braiding day.”
Nick reached the top and eased through the window, holding my hand for balance. “The ends are most lovely,” he said, kissing the back of my hand. Goose bumps rose all over my body.
My cheeks burned and I bowed my head. “Thank you.”
He reached for me, stroking the hair around my face. “So today is braiding day?”
“Yes,” I whispered.
He took no notice of my answer. Instead, he caressed my temple with a finger. “Hmm?” He let his finger wander down my cheek, sending shivers through me.
“Braiding day,” I murmured. “Every few days, I must undo, brush, and rebraid my hair.” Pulling away from him, I started bringing in the rope of hair, letting it pool on the floor between us.
He studied the pile. “It must take hours to rebraid all of this.”
I nodded as I dropped the last of the hair on the floor. “It is a process.”
He caressed my arm, sliding along to the exposed flesh just above my wrist. “Perhaps I can help you.”
I tugged my lower lip into my mouth, biting it. Nick’s eyes did not move from my mouth as my lip slid back out, sending ripples through my body.
“It is a difficult task,” I managed.
His eyebrow rose. “I am ready for the challenge.”
I was not certain he truly meant to help me with my hair. He ran his hands over the braids, separating the ends I had already unfastened. He followed the soft S shape of the braid like a caress.
I could hardly move as he touched my hair–it was so intimate yet also strangely matter-of-fact.
“Tressey,” he murmured, stroking apart the braid.
“Yes?”
“Where is your brush?”
It broke my fascination, and I retrieved a couple of my brushes from my dresser.
“Before we start,” Nick said. “I have something for you.”
I blinked. “Oh?” Only then did I realize he had not taken off his cloak. When he unfastened it, I saw what looked like rope strapped to his shoulders.
“What is that?”
“This,” he said, untying the rope, “is your birthday present.”
He handed me a bundle of linen wrapped around something hard and square. Taking it to the bed, I settled onto the mattress to open it. I was so excited to see what he had brought me I could not get the knots undone.
Nick sat next to me. “I see knots are a particular problem of yours,” he said with a smile.
“Oh hush, you.” I fiddled with the first one and was finally able to get it loose, then went to work on
the second.
Nick tried to help, but I slapped his fingers away.
“You are just as eager as me,” I said with a grin.
“Of course I am.”
I got the second knot undone and unwrapped the fabric around the present. When I opened it to reveal the gift inside, I had to take a breath.
It was the most beautiful box I had ever seen. Carved of wood, it was encased in elaborate metal filigree that had been worked to look like angels and flowers. A delicate silver angel stretched wide wings over the front of the box like a crowning jewel. It was so exquisite I was almost afraid to touch it.
“If you…” Nick began.
“No, no,” I said. “Hush. Let me explore.”
Stroking the front, I felt the niche in the center. Hooking a finger into the groove, I pulled on it to reveal a drawer lined with green fabric, smooth and silky to the touch.
“This is lovely.”
I turned the box back and forth in my hands, admiring the intricate designs, when I noticed the faint line near its top.
“It opens here too?” I asked, my finger grazing the angel.
Nick nodded, a grin on his face.
I touched the angel–just enough to make a tiny popping sound as the latch released–and lifted the lid. A sweet, chiming music echoed through the tower. I did not recognize the tune, but liked it immediately. Inside the box were cunning nooks tucked next to the covered center–perfect for storing my treasures.
While I ran my fingers over every detail, the music stopped. “Oh, what did I do? Did I break it?”
“No,” Nick said. “Here.” He took the box and turned it to show me the small knob in the center. “You twist this knob here.” It made little clicking noises as he did. “And then open the box to hear the music.”
Taking it from him, I opened the lid. The music began to play again, and a smile spread over my face. “This is beautiful, thank you.” Glancing at Nick, I caught the look of satisfaction and pleasure on his face and suddenly everything was too much. This was the first gift I had ever received from someone who truly wished to please me. Gothel had stolen eighteen years of birthdays with people who loved me. Eighteen years of gifts given with an open heart. Tears had sparked in my eyes and I wiped them away, forcing a smile.
I would never forget this moment, for it was truly mine.
“No more tears,” Nick said. “This is a happy thing. A happy day.”
I grinned, letting the tears run unchecked down my cheeks. “I am happy.”
He took my face in his hands and wiped away one of the tears with the ball of his thumb. “You like it?”
“Very much,” I replied.
Nick leaned over, kissing me softly on the lips. “Do you know, the first day I saw you, I thought you were an angel?”
I shook my head as I closed the lid. “You never told me that.”
He nodded. “I did. You were singing, leaning out the window, and I was mesmerized. I truly thought, since I saw no door, no way into your tower, that you had flown down from Heaven to sing.”
I blushed all the way to my toes, smiling away the tears. “Thank you.”
“You are very welcome. And thank you.”
“For what?”
He kissed my temple. “For letting me in.”
More tears prickled my eyes, but these were happy ones. I had read about a girl in a book who cried happy tears, but I had never imagined what that must be like. I finally knew. I laid my head against his shoulder and he wrapped his arm around me.
He brushed a hair away from my face. “Perhaps we should get back to your braiding.”
I nodded, and opened the music box again, letting the tinkling melody dance around us as we sat on the floor, and began to work on the braids.
“I must admit I am surprised you know how to do this,” I said.
“I have a sister,” he replied.
“You braided your sister’s hair?”
“Sometimes. Mostly, I would unbraid it for her,” Nick said, and his cheeks seemed darker–though in the uncertain light I could not be sure.
“Why?”
“Her governess was not gentle with her. Kiki would always cry when her hair had to be unbraided. We shared a common room then and I hated the sound of her crying, so one night I offered to help Kiki take down her braids.”
I smiled. “That was very sweet of you.”
He shrugged. “I keep waiting for the day she tells my friends. I shall never hear the end of it.”
“Then I suppose you should keep your sister happy.”
“That is more of a challenge than you know.”
We both laughed. We spoke of nothing. Of everything. He made me laugh with stories from his youth. I made him smile with my own misadventures with my hair.
The work flew by quickly, and it seemed mere moments before we had everything unbraided. Nick sat behind me, stroking the brush through the hair near my scalp.
His body was warm and firm, and with each methodical stroke, I wanted to lean into him, to feel him touching me with more purpose than just brushing my hair.
“I think we have it,” he finally said.
I turned to look at him. “I need to braid it again before it becomes tangled.”
He pulled a strand no wider than a finger from the rest and started braiding it.
“What are you doing?” I asked as he continued.
“Wait and see,” he said, his fingers moving deftly as if it was nothing to him to braid twenty ells of hair. The piece was not quite as long as the rest of my hair–although it was still well past my waist in length–and it seemed to take him only a moment to finish plaiting and securing it. I could not begin to imagine what he was going to do with it.
He leaned closer to me. “Hold up your hair,” he whispered.
I did as he asked, holding the loose locks away from my neck. He reached underneath and brought the thin braid around my head and across my brow. Around and around he wound the plait, his fingers grazing the back of my neck with each pass, sending shivers along my spine with every touch.
By the time he had finished wrapping the braid every bit of my skin tingled with anticipation. He seemed completely unaffected by the contact, standing and crossing the room to fetch my small hand mirror.
When he came back, he handed me the mirror. “A crown for a princess.”
I stared at my reflection. The hair made a wide band of tiny braids over my hairline. I brushed my fingers over it. “It is beautiful.”
He leaned forward, stroking one of the braids at my temple. “You are beautiful.” He slid his hands into my hair at the nape of my neck. “A princess.”
“I am not a princess.”
“To me you are.” He slid his fingers over my neck, his thumb caressing the underside of my ear. My body lit on fire.
Nick pulled me into his lap and wrapped his arms around me, my hair a curtain around us. He placed a kiss on my shoulder.
“I should…” I sputtered, wiggling against him, but he touched my chin and I turned to look at him. My stomach dropped as I saw the passion in his eyes.
Nick leaned forward and grazed my lips with his, pushing away any words I might have babbled to break the intimacy. His mouth was so soft, so barely there that I could not have explained why the lightning was suddenly right under the surface of my skin. The next instant it took control and I wrapped my arms around his neck and pressed my body to his.
The gesture must have caught him off-guard because he fell backward. We tumbled to the floor but he only tightened his hold on me and deepened his kiss. My hair lay like a blanket over us as we kissed, hiding us from the world. He ran his hands over my back and I arched into him instinctively.
He moaned, and his hips rose slightly, pressing something hot and hard against my stomach. The intense heat shocked me, and I pulled my hips away from him.
Nick broke away from the kiss, going very still beneath me.
“Did I do something wrong?” I asked.
I leaned forward to kiss him again, but this time, he did not press his lips against mine as feverishly as before. I wrapped my arms around his neck, trying to deepen the kiss, but he held back.
“Tressey,” he said, his voice thick and heavy. He rolled to the side so I lay on the floor next to him.
The veil of hair let in only miniscule shimmers of light but, even with that, I could tell something had upset him. I put my hands in his hair. “Why do you hesitate?”
Even though he was next to me, I suddenly felt cold without his warm body pressed against mine.
He sighed. “I...”
I shivered as my exposed flesh touched the stone beneath me. Nick slipped his arm under my head, pulling me to him, and I tucked myself into his chest and draped an arm across him.
“If you fear discovery, it is very unlikely,” I said, nuzzling his chest. “If anything, we can hide under my hair.” I giggled as I fanned the loose hair over our bodies.
The warmth of him was fantastic, and I needed as much of it as I could get, it felt so strong and tangible. I wanted something, yet I could not name it.
“Gothel will be back in a day or two,” I said, absently stroking his chest with a finger.
“I thought as much,” he said. He pulled me more into his arms, caressing my hip. “And I fear that if we do more, I might not be able to leave.”
“Before she returns?”
He murmured an affirmation as he kissed the top of my head. He knew as well as I, when Gothel returned, we would not be able to see one another. The thought made my heart ache.
Nick pulled me on top of him. “So,” he said, stroking my shoulder, “how will we get you out of here?”
“I know not,” I replied. “I cannot go down my hair myself.”
“There has to be a way,” he said, glancing around in thought. “She had to have gotten you up here somehow.”
I blinked. “There are stairs.”
Nick froze. “Where? Where are they?”
“In the storeroom,” I said.
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