Rapunzel and the Griffin Prince

by Savage, Vivienne

  “Captain Milo.”

  The captain cleared his throat and stepped back into view at her call, making her wonder what everyone else had seen.

  “Yes, Your Highness?”

  “Please gather up our men and have the wounded tended to. Then take the rest and free any slaves we might have missed during our initial sweep. Check the outlying buildings. Lord Gergain can remain under watch until I choose to mete out his fate.”

  “As you will it, Princess.”

  * * *

  Golden sunlight shone over the estate grounds and bathed everything in a surreal glow. Looking at it now, Rapunzel could almost believe there had never been a battle. Then the wind shifted and carried the bitter notes of smoke across her senses.

  It had taken them most of the night to clear away the bodies. After having her wound cleansed and healed, she had walked through the piles bound for the pyre and made herself look at every face. Made herself see how many people her mother had cursed with her magic. She had recognized many among them, not all soldiers, but merchants and craftsmen from the city too.

  Had she even slept? She couldn’t recall. Moments here and there, she supposed, between all the other duties she assigned herself. Over a hundred slaves freed, all in need of food and care. She had tended to many herself.

  “Your Highness, shall I bring him out now?”

  She turned toward the door where Captain Milo stood, watching her with his solemn eyes.

  “In a moment. I want everyone here first.”

  Everyone knew what was to come this morning, and no one wanted to miss the occasion. With the exception of the wounded and those on watch, the surviving members of her loyal resistance gathered in the wide lawn spread out before the estate. Even the townsfolk made their way up the hill.

  Captain Milo brought out their prisoners. Lord Gergain stumbled forward and threw himself at Rapunzel’s feet.

  “Mercy, Your Highness, I beg you.”

  Rapunzel looked down at the quivering man kneeling before her. Lord Gergain’s bright orange hair contrasted with his green overcoat and powder blue trousers, a far different look than her memories recalled. She remembered a smiling man willing to dirty his own hands in his vineyard, with grass stains on his trousers and modest attire. She’d always thought him to be kind when she was a child, but the years under her mother’s deceitful rule had either changed him or brought out his true nature. Rapunzel wasn’t sure which was worse.

  “Where was your mercy for the hundred slaves who felt your lash?” she asked.

  “But, Princess, the king himself allowed it. Admiral Teach delivered our first workers personally.”

  “Workers?” Her trembling voice raised. “Workers?” Rapunzel drew in a deep breath through her nose and steadied her emotions before continuing in an even tone. “These were not workers, and you know it. You took slaves, paid them nothing, treated them as disposable property, and you put those who had worked years for you out of their jobs. You ruined families—not only those of Eisland blood, but these people as well.”

  Gergain’s freed slaves were all in attendance, and Rapunzel looked to them. It broke her heart to look out at so many young faces. Over half were barely in their teens.

  “Parents lost. Children dead. Children, Gergain. I had never thought you to be a man to stoop so low.”

  “This vineyard has never produced so much. This town has filled the royal coffers!”

  “At what cost?” she snapped. “This town hasn’t prospered, Gergain. If you’d bothered to look beyond your lavish banquets, you’d have seen that Verais suffered. You failed the people you were meant to guide and govern. Worse, you betrayed them.”

  Gergain swallowed and dabbed at his sweaty brow. Color flushed his cheeks. “What will you do with me? Kill me?”

  “No, enough families have been ripped apart by death, but you will answer for your crimes. For now, the cellar will be your home and prison, until you can be moved to the palace dungeons.”

  “And my family?”

  Her gaze shifted to the plump matron and muscled young man standing to the side between Sòlas and Faolan.

  “Complicit as they were, they shall share in your crime and punishment. Your family will be stripped of its title and lands. This vineyard is no longer yours, the town below no longer under your leadership.”

  Gergain’s face drained of all color. “But my son’s legacy—”

  “Forfeit. Please take them to the storage cellar, Sòlas. See they are given blankets, food, water, and a light. No more. It’s more than they gave their slaves, and more than they deserve, but we aren’t heartless. Where they tread low, we will go high.”

  “At once, Princess.”

  She watched the three being led away and struggled to maintain her calm mask. It was her armor. Her shield. They couldn’t be allowed to see how much it broke her heart to discover how far her country had fallen. They couldn’t see her cry.

  “Princess?”

  The voice drew Rapunzel’s attention away from the estate door, back to the people gathered in the lawn. A young woman stepped forward from the crowd and dipped into a clumsy curtsy. Dirt smudged her gaunt cheeks and dried blood stained her pale brown hair.

  Rapunzel reached out and touched her arm. “None of that, please. What’s your name?”

  “Candra, Your Highness. Please, what will happen to us?”

  “For now, all I can do is offer you shelter and what protection we can muster. When this war is over, should you wish to return to your homelands, I will do everything in my power to see you there safely.”

  “Many of us come from Ridaeron and have no home. What if we wish to stay?”

  “Then we will help you find homes and honest, paying work.”

  “And if we can help you fight?”

  Taken aback by Candra’s offer, Rapunzel looked her over again in quiet scrutiny, admiring her muscled arms. “We would welcome your aid, but I will not compel any of you to fight. This battle isn’t yours.”

  “But it is. We were brought here against our wills, and many more of us are out there still. I have a brother…. He was put to work elsewhere. Many of us have family or friends suffering somewhere in your kingdom. I would like to help free them as well, and I know many others who feel the same.”

  Murmurs went up behind Candra, and several people stepped forward in a show of support. Even some of the children. Rapunzel’s chest tightened. These people had lost everything—everything but their hope.

  “Faolan, will you please assist Candra in organizing anyone with a desire to fight? I trust your eye and judgement in assigning them where they are most suited.”

  “Gladly.”

  “Muir?”

  Her husband had been standing at her side the whole time, silent but supportive, his mere presence keeping her steady when she felt anything but confident. He turned to her and set his hand against her arm, cupping her elbow in his warm palm.

  “What would you have me do?” he asked in a low voice. The gentle, deep thrum made her curl her toes inside her boots. Unbidden, a dozen images of what she’d like him to do flitted through her mind, and none of them had anything to do with Verais and its necessary defense.

  “I….” She cleared her throat and shook the visions away. “We’ll need to assess defenses. Verais was built around this winery. It was never meant to be a stronghold. Could you oversee that for me?”

  “Of course. What will you be doing?”

  “I’m going to go through Gergain’s storehouses and see what I can do to aid everyone. He has more than enough food here, that’s for certain. I’ll make sure everything is divided fairly.”

  Chapter

  It felt silly to pine after new garments when there were people across the town who had lost everything, but Rapunzel couldn’t help herself when she gazed at the beautiful gown displayed in the window. An hour ago, she’d set out on foot from the vineyard estate, hoping to clear her mind. Hoping to get Muir out of it.


  Why was fate so cruel that it would wed her to a man as handsome, courageous, and compassionate as him, and he’d lack even an ounce of feeling for her in return?

  Crisp and cool mountain air wound through the streets even though the scent of ash remained, a whiff of it occasionally blowing toward her on a southern wind.

  Verais had changed since she’d last visited thirteen years ago while on holiday with Sebille, but even the ravages of war couldn’t disrupt its beauty.

  Several of Milo’s soldiers bowed to her as she passed. They had set up patrols and watch rotations, and others had been assigned to assist the locals with damages. It brought Rapunzel some comfort to see the townsfolk smiling.

  “Princess?” a gentle voice called.

  Her attention snapped to the left where an older man leaned against the rail supporting a pale pink shop overhang. There were dresses in the window designed for different social functions, casual, brunch, dance, and evening dinner, each unique and varied from the last.

  “Hello, kind sir.”

  “I almost didn’t recognize you, dressed as you are, but there’s no mistaking that hair.”

  She touched the thick braid slung over her shoulder while looking down at her scuffed boots and rough trousers. “I’m afraid current times haven’t allowed for court attire.”

  The old man’s gray brows drew together. “Ah, Princess Rapunzel, such things do not suit you, my dear.”

  “I have nothing else. My every possession is locked within the castle. I was able to take nothing when we fled, nothing but myself, and I consider that a great fortune and worth the inconvenience of wearing secondhand clothes.”

  “You truly have nothing to call your own?”

  Rapunzel smiled. “Not even a hairbrush. But that’s fine because I’m free now, and I’m alive, and I’m here.”

  “Well, that won’t do at all. Come, follow me. We’ll see you set up properly.”

  “Oh no, please, I couldn't,” she protested. “I can’t even pay you.”

  The man scoffed and pointed toward the estate with his cane. “Pay me? Your Highness, you liberated Floren. You ousted that greedy lord of ours and sent food into the town.”

  “I did what anyone should have done.”

  “Your Highness, forgive me, but you and Prince Muir are more than our saviors. You are symbols of hope. And hope cannot walk through our town in ill-fitting trousers.” The old man shook his head and beckoned again with his wrinkled hand. “Please, come inside my shop and allow me to outfit you as a lady of your station deserves. As the hero of Floren and Verais deserves.”

  Hero. They thought her a hero. A flush of warm appreciation heated her cheeks. “As you wish.”

  A welcoming sort of warmth surrounded Rapunzel the moment she stepped inside the boutique, as if the shop had its own soul. Rolls of silks and satin shone from displays on the wall, each pattern unique and different from the last.

  “Forgive me, I never caught you name, sir.”

  “Halric, Princess.”

  “A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Halric. Do you run the shop alone?”

  The old man blinked rapidly a few times. Moisture swam in his pale eyes, and his smile crumpled. “My wife fell ill with the wasting sickness only two years ago, and my son… he was caught stealing bread for us. It wasn’t like him to take to thievery, but the taxes hit us hard and no one was buying clothes. Rather than fine him, Gergain took his life.”

  “I’m so sorry.”

  “It isn’t your fault. That was close to a year ago, now. I had planned to leave him the shop when my time came.”

  “And you’ve had no one with you here since?”

  “There was a lass who helped mind things, but she and her family left two moons ago. They went to Jonquilles, and I know not what their fate is now.”

  Rapunzel had a good idea, but she kept the thoughts to herself.

  “Enough sad talk. We’re here now, you and I, so let us see you in something befitting a Princess—no, a Queen. For that is what you shall be.”

  Halric clapped his hands together and moved around his shop with a liveliness in his step. At his direction, Rapunzel moved to a low dais with a long mirror set against the wall beside it. She stood there awaiting further instruction.

  “The prince is quite the catch, Your Highness.”

  “He is.”

  “Tell me, what colors does he favor?”

  “I—” Rapunzel faltered. She didn’t know. Didn’t know even the simplest things about her new husband, because their marriage was a farce to him and he’d made no effort to learn anything more about her either. “I couldn’t tell you,” she finally answered.

  “Then… let us try to outfit you in colors complimentary to that handsome garment he wears. It is a mark of his nation, is it not?”

  “His clan I believe. Those are his clan colors.”

  “Then we shall fashion you a beautiful dress worthy of Cairn Ocland nobility. If you will.”

  “I think that would be lovely, thank you.”

  “Good. Now, you’ll need fresh undergarments of course. I have a new design I’ve been anxious to release, and I can think of no one better to don the first pair.”

  “What is it?”

  He pulled a slender, gold box from a cabinet and crossed over. “Stockings, but lighter than air and soft as a sigh.”

  Rapunzel raised the lid and gasped. Inside lay a pair of silk-trimmed stockings. She carefully lifted one, marveling at the translucence of it. The fabric shimmered rose gold when the light caught it just right.

  “How do such things even stay on? They’re so light they would slip.”

  “Garters, Princess, with white satin ribbon.”

  With each box he brought over, the old man’s expression brightened and his eyes warmed, sadness forgotten for the moment as he displayed his deep love for his craft. The fripperies he brought her were true things of beauty and finer than anything she’d ever had before.

  “And now, the dress. We haven't the time to craft a piece unique to you, but I have a few finished gowns I’ve never put out, and I think…. Yes, yes. A moment, please.”

  Halric disappeared into the back only to return within moments with his arms full. With the utmost reverence, he offered it out to her on his bony arms. “It may require a few alterations, but I believe this is the perfect gown for you, my princess.”

  It had to be one of the loveliest dresses Rapunzel had ever laid her eyes on. As if made for her—meant for her—the bodice matched the color of Muir’s tartan to perfection. The dusky purple silk was trimmed in rose velvet across the modest squared neckline and plunging back. Layers of lilac, pink, and purple fabric as airy as the stockings made up the long trailing skirt.

  “I couldn’t possibly accept this.”

  “Please. This was my son’s design—his first, finest, and final work. I would be honored, and I know he would be as well, to have you accept it as your own. To wear it before our people.”

  Tears she couldn’t hold back trickled down her cheeks. With nothing to say that could ever express the building emotions inside, she leaned forward and kissed Halric’s weathered cheek. It was as damp as her own.

  “Then I shall wear it proudly.”

  * * *

  Muir had been lurking around the estate for an hour instead of hunting with Faolan and Sòlas, irritable ever since he’d discovered Rapunzel had ventured into Verais without an escort. He didn’t expect Gothel to send another wave of her black-eyed soldiers, but he despised taking risks with her life.

  But her absence did grant him time to contact Anastasia. The queen answered his call within moments of him activating the mirror. There were dark circles under her eyes, her red hair an unkempt mess around her shoulders.

  “More news, Muir?”

  “Are you all right, my queen? Has something happened?”

  She shook her head. “Nothing more than the usual. Now, don’t keep me in bloody suspense, you furry chicken. What news
do you have? Have you sighted more of those black-eyed soldiers?”

  Muir blinked. “There hasn’t been another sighting, Anastasia.”

  Her shoulders relaxed. “Apologies for snapping. I’ve been awake the entire night trying to find any information in the palace library about this spell she cast. It’s hopeless. I can’t find anything, and my grandmother doesn’t seem willing to provide one of her helping hands.”

  “Blast.”

  “So I’ve decided it’s time to contact Joaidane. There has to be some benefit to becoming allies with a grand enchanter.”

  “Let us hope he can find the answers we lack. But please, get some rest, Anastasia. If Alistair were present, he’d want you to do the same.”

  “He’d have dragged me to bed,” she agreed, “but research is my only value to the lot of you now. I’ll contact you again once I have word from Joaidane. Send Rapunzel my thoughts.”

  “And send the king mine.”

  Once the mirror dimmed, he put it away and sighed, given no choice but to await the princess’s return. Over and over, he told himself she was an adult, a formidable sorceress with great powers of her own, but that didn’t settle his unease.

  Just when he planned to go seek her, his princess came into view.

  Her hair was liquid moonlight, stardust given physical form and spun into silk. It flowed loose around her shoulders and down her back, glossy waves against the purple and pink silk hugging her curves. She paused at the steps and looked up at him, but words stuck in Muir’s throat. He offered a hand instead. Her palm settled over his, her skin petal soft, and she joined him on the veranda.

  “Your dress….”

  “Do you like it? Is it too much?”

  “No. I mean, the dress is lovely. It suits you. More than the any other dress I’ve seen you in.” Not that he’d seen her in many dresses. He felt like an inept child, words tumbling from his mouth without thought or consideration. Much to his relief, Rapunzel smiled up at him.

  How was it possible for a woman’s smile to be so appealing? To make him forget all thoughts and all words? To forget everything and everyone that had come before her?