Chapter One

Braids and the Beast (A Rapunzel Meets the Beast Fractured Fairy Tale) by Amanda Torrey

Rapunzel may have spent her life hidden from the world, but the world could not hide from her.

She stood at her easel by the tower's sunniest window, bare feet cool against the stone floor, and dragged her brush through a streak of warm colors. Below, the forest she used as muse stretched toward the horizon. 

Someday she’d wander through that pine-scented heaven to the village full of people she’d never met, but whom she vowed to help in any way she could. Someday.

Sighing, she painted first one deer, then another. No need to create loneliness in a make-believe world.

"Happy twentieth birthday to me," she sang, adding twenty songbirds to the canvas to mark the day. “Thank you for joining me for this celebration.”

She cleaned her new birthday brush in the jar of murky water on the windowsill and leaned out to peer below. The prince wouldn't come until sunset, as she’d warned him her guardian wouldn’t approve of her speaking to someone from the outside world, and Dame Gothel never visited once the sun descended.

And though Dame Gothel could never know she’d befriended the prince, Rapunzel trusted him. Besides, it wasn’t as though she’d ever let her hair down for him. She wasn’t naïve.

But it was nice to have a friend. 

Rapunzel clutched the locket she only wore when Dame Gothel wasn’t present. She’d found it tangled in her hair long, long ago, after Dame Gothel had climbed down from the tower. Though the correct thing to do would have been to give it back, as it had obviously slipped from her pocket, Rapunzel couldn’t give it up. Not after opening it and seeing the faces of two people who felt like people she should know.

So even though it made her dishonest and possibly criminal, she slipped it off every time Dame Gothel called out the words that summoned Rapunzel to the window. Rapunzel, Rapunzel, let down your golden hair!

“Away with you, pesky thoughts!” She waved her hands in the air as if to cast all negativity out the window. “‘Tis a day for celebration!”

A whistle floated up from below.

Rapunzel twirled in her pretty pink birthday dress all the way to the window and peered down, down, down. Past the tower's mossy stones, past the ivy that clung to the mortar, to where a familiar figure stood at the base with his hands cupped around his mouth.

"Happy birthday, Rapunzel!"

"Alden! You remembered."

"Of course I remembered." The prince swept into an elaborate bow, one leg extended and both arms flung wide, as if performing for an audience of thousands. His dark hair fell across his forehead when he straightened. "I come with news of your continued success."

He shook a leather pouch, grinning as the coins clinked. "Sold to a merchant’s wife who cried and said it reminded her of her childhood home. She paid extra when she heard who would benefit from the coin."

"How tremendous!" Rapunzel exclaimed, imagining how much ease this boon would bring to her targeted family this week. She'd been running this system for two years now, thanks to the prince’s partnership. She’d paint a scene, lower it on her braid to the prince so he could sell the art, then funnel the money to the nearby village where poverty ran rampant. Of course, Dame Gothel didn't know. Couldn’t ever know. Rapunzel knew Dame Gothel to be a kind, giving woman, but perhaps not generous to those outside her inner circle.

“Have you news of Jory? I pray his fever has broken.”

“I wanted to see you before bringing the funds to his parents.” He shook the pouch once again, a giant smile lifting his cheeks. “This will provide the new roof for their cottage and plenty of meals while they focus on healing Jory.”

Rapunzel clasped her hands over her heart. “Marta and Felix will be so grateful, Alden.”

“I only wish I could tell them who the blessing was from.”

“You mustn’t ever do that.” Anonymity was necessary if they were to continue, though Alden often expressed his dismay. “Give me one minute, if you would. I’ll retrieve today’s painting.”

"Take your time." The prince settled himself on the base of the tower, chewing on a mint leaf he’d plucked.

“I hope this one fares well in the market! I’m also sending down yarrow and angelica to help with Jory’s illness. Please add some mint to the pouch.” She rolled the canvas, wrapped it carefully in cloth, tied it to the end of her braid, added a pouch of herbs from her window garden, and lowered her bundles through the window. The braid unspooled, and she braced herself against the sill as the weight shifted. 

“Your kindness knows no bounds.” The prince caught the bundle and unrolled the cloth while holding the pouch under his arm.

He was quiet for a moment as he studied her work. She chewed on the side of her fingernail.

“Marvelous, Rapunzel. I feel as though I’m walking along the shore.”

“Truly? I’ve never seen the ocean, of course, but sometimes I swear I can hear the crash of the waves. And some nights the scent of salty air drifts through my window and awakens me from my slumber as if I’d fallen asleep on a bed of driftwood.” She rested her elbows on the sill and her chin on her hands, sighing dreamily. 

He gave a gentle tug on the end of her braid, sending tender sensations to her scalp. “You have a rare talent. Thus, the ease in finding buyers.”

“Thank you for keeping my secrets, Alden.”

Alden stared up at her, his brow furrowed. "Rapunzel, can I say something? About your birthday?"

She smiled to reassure him. “You may always be free with your words, Alden. Are we not best of friends?”

He nodded, but his eyes were more somber than usual. "You're twenty years of age today."

"Why, yes, that’s true! And I shall eat twenty pastries to celebrate. I’ve already baked several, and have the dough prepared for several more. Oh! I’ve been remiss! I’ll pass you some for your travels!"

Before he could respond, she bolted to her kitchen to wrap apple pastries in a cloth. She lowered them in her hair, and he accepted with gratitude.

"Rapunzel, your heart is as fair as the rest of you. But I’m saddened you've yet to venture from this tower."

"I know my circumstances seem strange, but this is for the best."

His smile was meant to reassure her, but at the moment she felt judged. 

"Don't you think the best gift Dame Gothel could give you would be your freedom?"

Rapunzel straightened. The stone sill pressed into her ribs, solid and familiar. "I could leave this tower if I wanted, Alden. I’m not a prisoner. She keeps me here because the world is dangerous for me. You know this."

"The world is a lot of things."

"You speak as a man who can wander to and fro with little threat." She kept her voice light, but her breath hitched. "Gothel saved me from abandonment as an infant. She provides all I need. I’m content, Alden, I swear it."

The words hung in the air between them, and she didn’t like the tension. They’d never quarreled.

Why wouldn’t he respond?

“If you could see all I have here, you wouldn’t pity me so. So many fine books to learn from, quality supplies for my art, seeds for sowing in my window boxes… and I wonder if your palace has as comfortable a bed as mine? Or a tub that fills with rose-scented water through enchanted pipes my devoted guardian installed?” She closed her eyes and inhaled. “Heavenly.”

His voice was wry when he replied, “Imagine if she were as generous with the villagers in her kingdom.”

Rapunzel stiffened. “Alden, you mustn’t speak ill of Dame Gothel. I fear she doesn’t know how to extend her generosity to those outside her inner circle, but that doesn’t make her evil. She’s…complex.”

Alden held up both hands and smiled, but this time pity contorted his face. "Forget I said anything. Happy birthday, truly. The painting is extraordinary, as always. And these pastries will carry me through the long journey home."

“Thank you.” If only the strain behind her ribs would ease.

He tucked the painting under his arm. "Same time next week?"

Don’t go yet. If only she could be brave enough to let him climb her hair and join her for tea. To spend more than a few minutes between enchanted sentry rounds once a week. 

That was not the life she was granted, and she’d never risk Dame Gothel, powerful fairy of the forest, punishing him for simply being her friend. 

She plastered on her brightest grin and threw a kiss out the window. "I shall count the sunsets, my friend."

He disappeared into the trees, his dark coat swallowed by the shadows. The forest closed behind him, and the heavy weight of solitude returned.

The silence vibrated in her temples, but being alone wasn't so bad. Filling her time was easy enough when she had so many interests to explore.

Did she believe she had to remain sequestered in a tower to be safe? Well, no. Not really. She’d taught herself plenty of skills and was confident she could hold her own in the world, but she’d never betray Dame Gothel after she’d given Rapunzel this beautiful life. 

She had enough. She had more than enough.

Rapunzel popped the last batch of pastries into the oven and set water on for tea, inviting her imaginary guests to please make themselves comfortable while she began her next project. She picked up her brush and swirled the tip in pink paint to match her dress while focusing her mind on what to paint next. Restlessness stirred in her until she channeled her feelings through the hand gripping the brush.

The brush moved as if possessed. Green treetops. A mysterious river. A winding path trailed off the edge, disappearing to a place she’d never see. A foreboding castle, partially hidden behind fog, beckoned her closer…

Adventure. Curiosity. Enchantment.

She painted with a heavier hand, almost as if she were…angry? Had she ever experienced anger? Alden was wrong about her life, but he’d planted weeds in her carefully tended garden.

She was so absorbed that when a tremor began, low and deep, she almost dismissed it as thunder. But thunder had never rumbled on her floor before.

Glass jars rattled. Tiny ripples spread across the surface of her water. Rapunzel set down her brush and pressed her palm flat against the curved wall. The stone vibrated beneath her fingers like a plucked string. Energy spread through her, making the tiny hairs on her arms stiffen.

“Odd.”

Her hands flew to her ears when a loud boom resonated. Her knees shook and nearly buckled. Was Alden safe out there in the forest? Had Gothel discovered her deception and cast a curse?

Before the whirling thoughts could take root, the floor buckled beneath her, dropping her into a freefall. 

“Oh!”

Her belly dropped as she struggled to grab something, anything, but her hands passed through colorful clouds and shimmering mists. She spun in the air and expected to see the constellations she’d painted on her high ceiling, but the air rushed over her body, whipping her hair into a frenzy of escaped tendrils as her braid wrapped protectively around her. Everything was a blur, and when she expected to hit the ground, she didn’t. The rushing air made it impossible to drag air into her lungs, and she couldn’t even scream. 

Her muscles tensed, and her pulse raced. She became acutely aware of every rushing sound rampaging in her ears. Of the scents that transitioned from familiar to new, from her pastries baking to chimney smoke, and the coppery taste of blood where she must have bitten her tongue.

Light flashed and sizzled as her fall continued. Was this a dream? An illness? A breakdown? 

Freedom?

How far would she fall? Surely she should have reached the bottom by now.

Peace settled over her, and terror left her body as quickly as it had come. She relaxed her muscles and surrendered to the weightlessness of floating through space and time and whatever magic had been inflicted upon her. Her body spun, her hair tangled, and her mind released any fear that would have made this harder.

Cool stone floor rose to meet her cheek at last as a distant rumbling growl replaced the earlier tremor.

And then, absolutely nothing.

*To keep reading, please purchase the book here :)