At his command, the crowd of two dozen courtiers applauds me. The sound is vulgar when, even now, my thoughts drift to Blithe. I’d rather listen to the husky echo of Rapunzel’s voice resonate in the sterile glade. Stare up at her flawless face instead of the garish visages of John’s courtiers. With their fine clothing, irrelevant conversations, and false laughter—all of it is…nothing.
Rapunzel is everything.
This ceremony… This honor. This meaningless position John appointed me… I’ll use it to become a better…me. To become stronger. Quicker. More stealthy.
Lethal.
To prepare me for when it becomes my responsibility to protect Rapunzel. Because despite her protests, the day will come when I visit her, and I won’t leave that glade alone.
7
WREN
Twenty-One Years Old
“Rapunzel!” My roar echoes across the glade. It reverberates off the gray stone of the tower. Weaves between the freezing rain pelting Blithe. I wait a long while before I snatch a rock and whip it at the windowpane. Of course, it lands short, falling to the saturated ground. “To hell with you, then,” I snarl.
I turn to leave, fury and frustration and…anguish…ripping through me like a violent tide.
“Wren.”
I skid to a halt.
Squeeze my eyes shut.
My heart batters my sternum.
I haven’t heard her voice in months.Months. After our last argument, I came thrice. Thrice she stubbornly refused to come to the window. And pride kept me from begging for just one moment of her time—until my father lay dying. I screamed up to her empty window that he was sick. Came here once a day for six days needing just a glimpse of her to help me through the worst moments of my life, but she denied me.
But now she’s at the window, and her voice—the loveliest sound in all the wretched world—resonates around me.
The rain stings my face as I turn. My God, she’s so damn lovely. A drop of beauty on this ugly day. “Now you show yourself?Now, after all these days?”
She bows her head, that glorious golden hair tumbling forward. Then she looks at me and gathers her yellow blanket around herself like a shield. It’s the same blanket she’s had for years. I swear, I think I see a tear slip down her cheek. Or it could be the rain. Right now, I neither know nor care.
“I’m sorry,” she rasps.
“Fuck yoursorry.” I step backward, shaking my head. “Poor, lonely Rapunzel, locked in her tower, too much of a coward to help herself. Poor Rapunzel, too afraid of her terrible secret to share it with her best friend.” I spit at the tower as I inch farther away, toward the mouth of the glade. “You never trusted me. I gave you everything. But you couldn’t even give me a moment of your time when I needed you. And why? Because we fight? It’s what we do now, Rapunzel. Because you won’t leave, and I can’t watch you throw your life away.”
Rapunzel’s hands uncurl from the blanket. It drops away, and when she grabs the ledge, her fingers bite into the frame as if to steady herself against the battery of my words. “It’s not like that, Wren.”
“He’s dead!” My bitter shout slices through the wind and rain sharper than a blade. “My father is dead, and there’s nothing left for me here. I would have stayed. For you, Rapunzel. I would have done anything for you. Torn down this tower, stone by stone, for you. But you don’t want freedom, and you don’t want me. I hope you rot in there, you selfish bitch.”
My boots sink in the mud, with the sodden ground wrapping around the black leather like fingers to keep me from walking away. I have to fight for each step. My longbow and quiver are a comforting weight against my back as I go, with Rapunzel’s desperate calls echoing behind me as I leave.
“Wren, wait!” she cries. “Please don’t go. Not like this.Please. Please come back. I’m sorry.Wren!”
Her plea bounces off my fractured heart. Not once as my father lay dying was she there to comfort me through the loss. Not once did I have her to console me while I watched his body rot from within. Each time I came to Blithe over the last six days, I risked missing my father’s last breath for the consolation found only with her.
Her rejection struck deep.
So deep, it severed something that can’t be stitched back together.
I was Rapunzel’s sole breath of freedom. I’ll take that with me when I go, and I hope my memory suffocates her.
8
WREN
