Peridot

She knew it wasn’t polite—Cassandra would never let her live it down if she noticed—but how could she possibly look away? Across the sun-drenched courtyard, Cass sat with an ease Rapunzel barely recognized, her usual sharp edges softened into something unfamiliar. It wasn’t just the way she laughed—head tilted back, unguarded, free—it was everything.

It was her.

The girl.

Rapunzel had caught her name in passing—Maeve. A traveler from a distant kingdom, she had arrived in Corona months ago to assist with an artistic project, though by now, she seemed to have found something, or someone, worth staying for. She was striking. Long black hair cascaded down her back in thick, silken waves, and her eyes—Rapunzel had never seen eyes like that before. A brilliant, electric blue that seemed to shimmer in the sunlight, especially when they locked onto Cassandra.

Rapunzel’s chest ached as she watched Maeve reach up, fingers brushing a stray strand of hair from Cassandra’s face. A simple gesture. Intimate. Thoughtless, even. But what made Rapunzel’s breath catch was Cassandra’s reaction. She didn’t flinch, didn’t pull away like she so often did with unwanted touch. Instead, she smiled. Not her usual smirk, not the sharp-edged amusement Rapunzel had grown used to, but something softer. Something private. Something Rapunzel had never seen before.

"Earth to Raps?"

Eugene’s voice cut through the haze of her thoughts, warm and teasing, yet edged with concern. She blinked, startled, realizing only then that he had taken her hand in his. He was watching her, head tilted, a small smirk playing at his lips—but his eyes gave him away.

"You’ve been zoning out a lot lately," he observed.

Rapunzel forced a smile.

"Just… a lot on my mind."

Eugene studied her for a moment, his usual easygoing demeanor faltering just slightly.

"If you say so. But you know you can talk to me, right? About anything."

Her heart clenched, guilt creeping in like ivy through the cracks. Eugene was perfect—steady, thoughtful, always knowing exactly what to say to make her laugh when she needed it most. She should feel safe with him. She should feel whole.

So why did it feel like something was missing?

Almost against her will, her gaze flickered back to Cassandra. She was leaning in now, her voice low, whispering something Rapunzel couldn’t hear. Whatever it was, it sent Maeve into laughter, her eyes crinkling at the corners, her hand briefly resting over Cassandra’s.

Rapunzel swallowed hard.

Her heart twisted, and she hated herself for it.

The afternoon sun bathed the castle gardens in golden light as Rapunzel sat with her parents, the scent of fresh blooms mixing with the crisp autumn air. A long table stretched between them, covered in swatches of fabric, delicate sketches of floral arrangements, and lists upon lists of wedding details.

Her mother, Queen Arianna, smiled warmly as she placed a gentle hand on Rapunzel’s.

"We want this to be everything you’ve dreamed of, sweetheart," she said. "Your wedding should be perfect."

"And it will be," her father, King Frederic, added, his voice carrying the steady reassurance Rapunzel had always known. "Which is why we thought we’d bring in someone who could help with something special."

Rapunzel tilted her head, curiosity piqued.

"Someone?"

Before her mother could answer, a familiar figure appeared at the garden entrance.

Maeve.

Rapunzel’s stomach twisted.

Dressed in a simple yet elegant tunic, her long black hair tied loosely over one shoulder, Maeve walked toward them with effortless grace. Even in the warm glow of the setting sun, her sharp blue eyes sparkled, reflecting the light like waves on the ocean.

"Maeve has an incredible talent for embroidery," Queen Arianna continued, clearly oblivious to Rapunzel’s sudden discomfort. "She’s been working on intricate designs inspired by Corona’s history. We thought she could create something unique for your wedding—perhaps the veil or some embroidery on your gown."

Maeve bowed slightly, her expression warm yet poised.

"It would be an honor, Your Highness," she said, her voice smooth, steady. "I’ve been working on a few designs already, if you’d like to see."

Rapunzel forced a smile.

"Oh! That’s… really kind of you."

Kind. Talented. Elegant. Of course, she was.

Rapunzel swallowed down the irrational frustration bubbling inside her. This was ridiculous. Maeve had done nothing wrong—if anything, she was offering a beautiful gift, something personal and meaningful. So why did it feel like another reminder that Maeve was—what?

Perfect?

She shook the thought away, forcing herself to meet Maeve’s eyes.

"I’d love to see what you’ve come up with."

Maeve nodded and set down a small leather-bound folio, flipping it open to reveal delicate sketches of embroidered patterns—golden sunbursts, twisting vines, tiny hidden stars woven between intricate florals.

They were breathtaking.

Rapunzel clenched her fingers in her lap.

"These are… incredible."

"Thank you," Maeve said simply, her smile soft but unreadable.

Before Rapunzel could think of anything else to say, another voice interrupted.

"Hey, what’s going on here?"

Cassandra.

Rapunzel didn’t need to turn to know it was her. She knew the sound of Cass’s voice better than her own heartbeat.

Maeve’s expression instantly shifted, brightening in a way that made Rapunzel’s chest tighten.

"I was just showing Rapunzel some designs for the wedding," she said, closing the folio.

Cassandra grinned, stepping beside her. "Your Highness,” she said to Queen Ariana, “ I told you she was talented, didn’t I?"

"You did," said Rapunzel’s mother with a warm smile.

Cassandra smiled back, and just like that, her attention was entirely on Maeve.

"Did you have a chance to work on that other thing we talked about?" Cass asked.

Maeve smirked.

"Maybe. You’ll have to be patient."

Cassandra huffed dramatically, but there was warmth in her eyes.

"I hate patience."

Maeve chuckled and, without hesitation, leaned in to press a kiss against Cassandra’s lips.

It wasn’t long. It wasn’t dramatic. Just a brief, casual, familiar kiss.

Rapunzel looked away.

She pretended to admire the embroidery sketches again, though the patterns blurred together as a lump formed in her throat.

"Well," she said, forcing her voice to stay light. "It looks like everything’s coming together perfectly."

Maeve and Cassandra were too wrapped up in each other to notice the way her hands curled into the fabric samples on the table.

Rapunzel swallowed hard.

And she hated herself for it.

The castle corridors were quiet this late in the evening, save for the occasional flicker of torchlight casting long shadows against the stone walls. Rapunzel walked briskly, trying to shake the restlessness that had settled in her chest ever since the garden meeting earlier that day.

She told herself she was just tired. That wedding planning was exhausting. That seeing Cassandra and Maeve together was… fine.

Perfectly fine.

But her hands curled into fists as she rounded a corner.

She wasn’t fine.

She knew it the moment she stepped onto the balcony overlooking the courtyard. Below, illuminated by the moon’s silver glow, stood Cassandra and Maeve.

Alone.

They were talking in hushed voices, standing closer than necessary, their fingers brushing in casual, effortless familiarity. And then—Maeve laughed. That same melodic, lighthearted laugh Rapunzel had heard earlier. The one that had made Cassandra smile in a way Rapunzel had never seen before.

And then Cass did it again.

That soft, private smile.

Rapunzel gripped the railing so hard her knuckles turned white.

A strange, unfamiliar feeling coiled in her chest, hot and sharp, winding its way through her ribs like ivy. It wasn’t sadness. It wasn’t frustration.

It was something worse.

Her stomach twisted as she watched Maeve tuck a loose strand of hair behind Cassandra’s ear, the gesture so simple, so natural, as if it had been done a hundred times before.

And Cassandra let her.

Rapunzel’s breath hitched.

Oh.

Oh.

The realization hit her like a storm crashing against the cliffs.

She was jealous.

For the first time in her life, truly, painfully jealous.

She had spent her whole life celebrating love, encouraging it, painting murals of grand romances across the castle walls. She had always believed love was something pure, something that should be cherished, never envied.

But now?

Now, she wanted to be anywhere but here.

She turned away before either of them could notice her standing there, heart pounding, pulse ringing in her ears.

Jealousy wasn’t something Rapunzel knew how to handle. It was ugly, selfish, wrong.

And yet—

She had never felt it so fiercely before.

She swallowed hard, pressing a hand to her chest as if she could quiet the ache inside.

She didn’t understand it.

She didn’t want to.

But as she walked away, one thought echoed in her mind, louder than the rest.

She had never wanted anything the way she suddenly wanted Cassandra to look at her like that.

A day later, Rapunzel found herself in her studio, staring blankly at an unfinished canvas. The paints sat untouched, the colors blending into a chaotic swirl that mirrored the mess in her head.

Jealousy wasn’t something she was used to feeling—not like this. She’d felt it before, in fleeting moments, when she saw Eugene charm a crowd or when Cassandra bested her in a sparring match. But this was different.

This was deeper, sharper.

It wasn’t just that Maeve had Cassandra’s attention. It was the way Cassandra looked at her, the way her walls came down when Maeve was near.

Rapunzel had seen Cassandra vulnerable before, but it had always felt like... their thing. A rare bond between them, forged in the quiet moments when they let their guards down. Now, Maeve had slipped into that space, and Rapunzel felt like an outsider looking in.

The knock on her door startled her.

"Raps? You in there?"

It was Cassandra’s voice, muffled but unmistakable.

Rapunzel’s stomach flipped, and she debated pretending she wasn’t there. But before she could decide, the door creaked open, and Cassandra stepped inside.

"Thought so," Cass said, crossing her arms. "You’ve been weird all day. What’s up?"

"Nothing," Rapunzel said quickly, too quickly.

Cassandra raised an eyebrow.

"Uh-huh. Sure. Because zoning out during the council meeting definitely screams 'nothing.'"

"I wasn’t—" Rapunzel started, but Cassandra’s knowing smirk stopped her.

"Raps," Cassandra said, her voice softening. "What’s going on?"

Rapunzel hesitated, her throat tightening. She couldn’t admit it—not to Cassandra, not to herself. But the words tumbled out before she could stop them.

"You seem... happy," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

Cassandra blinked, clearly taken aback.

"Well, yeah. I guess I am. Is that... a problem?"

"No!" Rapunzel responded quickly, shaking her head vigorously. "No, of course not. I just—" She bit her lip, trying to gather her thoughts. "It’s just... strange, I guess. Seeing you with someone else."

"Strange?" Cassandra laughed, as if she couldn’t believe what Rapunzel had just said.

Rapunzel felt a wave of guilt wash over her. She shouldn’t be jealous. Cassandra deserved all the happiness she had with Maeve. They’d been through so much together, and now it seemed like everything was falling into place for her.

“Do you… love her?” Rapunzel asked, her voice barely more than a whisper.
Cassandra blinked, and Rapunzel quickly lowered her gaze to the paint on the floor, unable to meet her friend's eyes.

“I do,” Cassandra admitted softly, a warm smile spreading across her face. “I really do. Maeve is amazing, she gets me, and…”

I get you too.

“...I don’t know, it just feels right.”

Rapunzel felt a sting in her chest, the words almost too much to bear. It took everything she had to force a smile, turning her head toward Cassandra.

"I’m happy for you," she lied, the words tasting bitter on her tongue.

Cassandra's expression softened, her concern evident in the way her gaze lingered on Rapunzel for a moment. Then, gently, she spoke.

"Raps," she said, her voice quiet, "You’re happy with Eugene, right?"

The question hit Rapunzel like a punch to the gut.

"I—" she started, but her words caught in her throat.

The image of Eugene flashed before her: his easy smile, his unwavering support, the way he made her feel seen. But something was missing, wasn’t it?

"Sure," Rapunzel managed to say, her voice shaky as she forced a smile. "I’m deeply happy. Can’t wait for the wedding day."

Cassandra’s eyes narrowed, a hint of disbelief in her expression, but she nodded slowly, turning away and heading for the door. She paused just before it closed, giving Rapunzel one last lingering look.

As the door clicked shut, Rapunzel crumpled to the floor, the weight of her tangled emotions almost too much to bear.

She was happy for Cassandra. She knew she was.

So why did it feel like her heart was breaking?

Rapunzel and Eugene sat side by side on the couch, the soft golden light of the setting sun spilling through the window. The excitement of their upcoming wedding was supposed to fill the air, but Rapunzel couldn’t shake the gnawing feeling in the pit of her stomach.

Eugene smiled as he adjusted the stack of wedding plans on his lap.

“I think we’re almost done with everything! Just a few more details to go, but we’re in the home stretch, Raps.” His voice was warm and enthusiastic, full of optimism.

Rapunzel forced a bright smile, nodding along, though her mind was far from the wedding details. She couldn’t stop thinking about Cassandra—about the way she had looked at her with that soft, knowing gaze, how Rapunzel couldn’t look her in the eye, how she’d lied about being happy. Was she? Really?

“Yeah, we’re getting close,” Rapunzel said, her voice coming out a little too softly. She shifted, trying to muster more enthusiasm, but her mind kept circling back to the same place. To Cassandra. To the way everything felt off lately, like something was slipping through her fingers.

Eugene glanced over, sensing the shift in her mood. He tilted his head, a frown tugging at his lips.

“Raps… Are you alright? You’ve been a little… distracted today.”

Rapunzel blinked, pulling herself back into the present. She didn’t want to seem ungrateful. The last thing she wanted to do was hurt Eugene. He was everything she needed, everything she had ever dreamed of. He loved her. She loved him, didn’t she?

“I’m fine,” she said quickly, her tone a little too sharp as she forced herself to meet his eyes. “I just—” She paused, searching for the words. “I’ve just been thinking about all the little details, you know? There’s so much to do before the wedding, I just... want it to be perfect.”

Eugene smiled, clearly reassured, but there was still a flicker of concern in his eyes.

“Of course, we’ll make it perfect. I can’t wait for our day.”

Rapunzel nodded again, her heart tightening as she tried to push away the image of Cassandra, her laugh, her bright eyes, and the way she had looked at Rapunzel with an almost apologetic tenderness. Cassandra had seemed so happy with Maeve, so sure of what she wanted.

But did Rapunzel know what she wanted?

“I’m so lucky to have you,” Eugene continued, gently taking her hand in his. “We’ve been through so much, and now… we’re going to start a whole new chapter. Together.”

Rapunzel smiled, but the guilt in her chest wouldn’t leave.

“Yeah, we are,” she whispered, though her voice felt hollow.

She squeezed his hand, trying to feel the warmth of his touch, to ground herself in the life they were about to begin together.

Eugene leaned in, his eyes soft with affection as he cupped Rapunzel’s face in his hands.

"You know, I don’t think I could ever love anyone the way I love you," he said, his voice low and tender.

Rapunzel’s heart fluttered at his words—she should have felt that familiar warmth, that deep connection. But instead, a strange emptiness settled over her, a quiet voice in her mind reminding her that something didn’t feel right. She couldn’t explain it, couldn’t name it, but it was there. Like a shadow she couldn’t outrun.

Eugene’s lips found hers in a gentle kiss, soft and sweet, just like every kiss they had shared over the years. His touch was comforting, familiar, like coming home. And yet…

Rapunzel’s chest tightened. She kissed him back, but the feeling wasn’t the same. The fluttering in her stomach wasn’t the excitement she’d always felt—it was a dull ache, something that weighed her down. She tried to push it away, to ignore the nagging sensation, but it wouldn’t leave her.

When they finally pulled apart, Eugene held her close, wrapping his arms around her. He pressed a kiss to her forehead, his voice a gentle whisper against her skin.

"You’re my everything, Raps. You always will be."

Rapunzel swallowed hard, the lump in her throat threatening to choke her. She leaned into his embrace, pretending to feel the same certainty she had always felt. She wrapped her arms around him, burying her face in his chest, just to hide the tears that threatened to spill.

“I know,” she whispered, forcing the words out even though they didn’t feel like her own.

She could feel Eugene’s heart beating steadily against her, a rhythm that had always made her feel safe, loved. But now, it felt like something was missing. Something she couldn’t name.

“I’m so lucky to have you,” she added, the lie tasting bitter on her tongue, but it was what she was supposed to say. Eugene had saved her from the tower. He was her prince, her love, her everything. He was supposed to be her “ever after.”

But as she stood there, wrapped in his arms, her mind kept drifting back to Cassandra—the way she had smiled at Rapunzel, the way she’d said “I do” with such ease, with such certainty, about someone else. How could Cassandra be so sure, when Rapunzel felt like she was standing at the edge of a cliff, unsure of which way to jump?

“I’m so lucky to have you, Eugene,” Rapunzel repeated, her voice barely a whisper, as she clung to him, desperately trying to convince herself that this was the truth.

But even as the words left her mouth, she couldn’t shake the feeling that somewhere, deep down, she was lying to herself.

And to him.

Rapunzel stood in front of the full-length mirror, her hands nervously twisting the edge of her wedding dress. The fabric shimmered, the lace detailing catching the light as she turned, inspecting herself from all angles. The gown was beautiful, perfect even, just like she had always imagined. The kind of dress that made every moment feel like a fairytale.

But as she stood there, she couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off. The reflection staring back at her felt distant, like a woman she didn’t quite recognize. Her smile was forced, the excitement she should have felt nowhere to be found.

The seamstress carefully adjusted the dress, pulling the fabric tighter at the waist, ensuring everything was flawless. Rapunzel barely noticed her movements, her mind drifting in a haze. Was this really her life? Was this really the path she was supposed to take?

Her mother’s voice broke through her thoughts.

“Rapunzel… Oh, my dear. You look so beautiful. So grown-up.”

Rapunzel glanced at her mother, her heart aching. She saw the pride in her eyes, the love, and it made her want to smile. But there was a tightness in her chest that made it difficult.

"Thanks, Mom,” Rapunzel said softly, though the words felt hollow.

Her mother stepped closer, wiping a tear from her cheek.

"It’s like I’m seeing you for the first time, my little girl, about to start a whole new chapter."

Rapunzel nodded, her fingers nervously playing with the lace of the dress.

"Yeah... It’s hard to believe." But it didn’t feel like the fairytale ending she had always pictured. She should be happy, she knew that. She was supposed to be happy. She was marrying Eugene—her love, her partner in everything. He was a good man. He was kind and patient and had always stood by her side, especially after everything they had been through.

But when she thought about their wedding day, when she imagined walking down the aisle to him, something inside of her twisted. The thought of standing there in front of everyone, making promises she wasn’t sure she could keep... it made her feel like a fraud.

There was a knock at the door, and Rapunzel’s heart skipped a beat. Three gentle taps.

Her mother smiled, waving her hand.

"Come in!"

The door creaked open, and Rapunzel’s breath caught in her throat. Standing in the doorway was Cassandra, dressed in full knight’s armor, the gleam of her chest plate almost blinding in the light. Rapunzel’s heart beat faster, her chest tightening. She hadn’t expected her to be here today, not like this.

Cassandra stepped inside, standing tall, her usual confident aura a little more softened than usual. There was an unexpected tenderness in her eyes when they met Rapunzel’s, like she was trying to read her.

"Well, well," Cassandra said, her voice a little teasing but warm. "Look at you, Rapunzel. All ready to marry the love of your life."

Rapunzel blinked, suddenly feeling exposed. She had never expected to feel this way about her friend showing up at such an intimate moment.

"Cassandra," Rapunzel murmured, surprised. "What are you—?"

"I invite her," her mother said quickly, but there was an edge of pride in her voice. “I mean she is your dearest friend, after all. And I have a good news…”

Rapunzel glanced at her mother.

"Cassandra’s been promoted to knight," she said warmly. "She’s a part of the royal family now, Rapunzel. I thought it would be nice if she joined us today."

Rapunzel’s eyes widened, taking in the full extent of what Cassandra had become. A knight. She’d always been so strong, but seeing her like this—it made her feel small, unsure of the choices she had made.

“That’s awesome Cass, you achieve your dream,” she breathed sincerely happy for her friend.

Cassandra was smiling softly now.

"Yeah, what a journey, right?" she said, her voice quieter this time.

“I’m so happy for you Cassandra. You were meant for this."

Cassandra’s expression softened, and she stepped forward just a little, her armor making a soft clinking sound.

"I’m proud of you, Rapunzel. I really am. I know Eugene’s a good man, and I know you’ll be happy with him."

Rapunzel’s heart clenched at the mention of Eugene’s name. She should feel the joy that came with it. He was everything she had ever wanted in a partner, everything she thought she needed. But now, standing here in her dress with Cassandra in front of her, it was hard to shake the nagging feeling that she wasn’t ready for this. That maybe she didn’t feel as certain as she was supposed to.

Her mother had tears in her eyes as she looked at the two of them, pride and love in equal measure. But Rapunzel couldn’t help but feel like something inside of her was missing.

She turned back to Cassandra, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Cassandra, I... I’m glad you’re here," she said, her heart aching. "I just—" She trailed off, unable to finish the thought. There was too much she couldn’t say. Too much she wasn’t ready to face.

Cassandra didn’t let her finish.

“God, I didn’t even tell Maeve yet—I can’t wait to see her reaction!”

Rapunzel’s heart cracked. Just like that.

“Oh, Maeve, your sweet girlfriend,” her mother chimed in. “I can’t wait for the day you two have a beautiful wedding like my daughter, a stunning bride.”

Cassandra blushed furiously. Rapunzel forced a smile, trying to make it seem real, even as she felt herself unraveling inside.
She had never really thought about this—about Cassandra getting married one day.

Not to you.

“I don’t know if I’d make a good wife,” Cassandra admitted, rubbing the back of her neck. “For now, just being a knight—and a decent girlfriend—is enough.”

“That’s not true,” Rapunzel blurted before she could stop herself.

Oops.

Silence fell. All eyes turned to her. Heat crept up her cheeks.

“I mean… I was just thinking that—”

“It’s okay, Raps,” Cassandra cut in smoothly, her tone teasing. “Seeing you struggle to call me a good wife says plenty.”

Her mother laughed, like it was just a joke.

Cassandra glanced at her one last time, a soft, knowing smile on her lips, before turning to leave.

“I’ll be around if you need me,” she said gently. And then she was gone, leaving Rapunzel alone with her thoughts.

She stood in front of the mirror, staring at the woman in the dress. Her heart twisted painfully, the weight of something unspoken pressing down on her.

Maybe this wasn’t where she was meant to be.

Maybe she wasn’t ready for the future everyone else had already decided for her.

But it was too late to turn back now.

Wasn’t it?

The golden lanterns bathed the castle’s grand hall in warm light, their glow reflecting off the polished marble floors. Soft music filled the air, weaving between the voices of the small gathering. King Frederic and Queen Arianna had arranged a quiet celebration—just a handful of close friends and nobles—to honor Rapunzel and Eugene’s engagement.

Rapunzel stood at the center of it all, resplendent in a flowing lavender gown embroidered with golden threads that caught the candlelight. Eugene, ever the charmer, was by her side, his hand resting lightly on the small of her back as he exchanged witty remarks with a visiting diplomat.

It should have been a perfect evening.

But then she arrived.

Cassandra.

Dressed in her knight’s armor, she strode into the hall with effortless confidence, the familiar weight of her sword at her side. And beside her—Maeve.

Tonight, she wore a fitted, dark green dress that complemented her sharp features and long, dark hair. She was breathtaking. And Cassandra—stoic, strong, steady Cassandra—was at her side, her usual gruffness softened in Maeve’s presence.

Something twisted in Rapunzel’s chest. A deep, ugly thing that curled and coiled in the pit of her stomach.

Jealousy.

She hated it.

She hated herself so, so much for feeling it.

She had Eugene. Wonderful, loyal, infuriatingly handsome Eugene, who loved her more than anything. She was happy. She was .

So why did the sight of Cassandra looking at Maeve with that rare, gentle fondness make her feel like she was unraveling?

The laughter, the music, the warmth of the room became suffocating. Her chest tightened, her breath came short, and before she knew what she was doing, she turned on her heel and fled.

She barely made it to the garden before she collapsed to her knees, heaving as nausea overtook her. The cold night air was a sharp contrast to the heat of the party, but it did nothing to soothe the storm inside her.

And then—

"Rapunzel?"

Her heart stopped.

She turned slightly to see Cassandra standing a few feet away, arms crossed, concern flickering behind her sharp blue eyes.

"Are you—?" Cassandra hesitated. "Do you need help?"

Rapunzel wiped at her mouth, her hands shaking.

" Go away ," she whispered, her voice barely audible.

Cassandra didn't move. "You ran out so fast, I thought—"

"I don’t want to talk," Rapunzel cut in, curling her arms around herself. "Just...leave me alone, Cass."

Silence. A heavy, unbearable silence.

And then, so quietly it almost broke her:

"You know I won't do that."

Rapunzel squeezed her eyes shut, her throat burning. She couldn't do this. Not now. Not with Cassandra standing there, looking at her like that, like she cared .

Because that only made it worse.

"Cass, please ," she choked.

A pause. Then the faintest sigh.

"Okay," Cassandra said, her voice softer now. "Okay, Raps."

She didn’t leave. But she didn’t push, either. Instead, she took a quiet step back, giving Rapunzel space.

Rapunzel hated that it only made her want to cry more.

She had lost count of how many times she had stood like this—taking deep breaths, wiping away tears, hoping that maybe, this time, Cassandra would finally get tired of her.

But when she turned her head, Cassandra was still there, watching her with quiet concern.

"Sorry," Rapunzel murmured.

"Raps, you don’t have to apologize," Cassandra said gently. "What’s going on?"

Rapunzel blinked.

"I’m… fine."

Cassandra rolled her eyes, clearly doing her best to be patient.

"Rapunzel," she sighed, "you know I don’t like being lied to."

Rapunzel crossed her arms over her chest, holding herself together.

"Something’s wrong, I can tell. You’ve… changed," Cassandra observed.

Rapunzel’s blood ran cold.

"Changed?" she echoed.

Cassandra shrugged. "Yeah. You’re different."

"Different how?" Rapunzel whispered.

Cassandra hesitated, then finally said it. "Distant."

The word cut deep.

She didn’t mean to be like this. She didn’t.

But the weight of everything—the guilt, the fear, the doubt—was crushing her. And no matter how hard she tried, she just couldn’t seem to be better.

"I’m fine, really," she said, voice steadier than she felt. "It’s just the wedding. It’s a lot, you know? Planning, expectations, everything."

Cassandra didn’t look convinced. She crossed her arms, tilting her head slightly.

"Raps…"

"I swear," Rapunzel pushed on, her smile tightening. "It’s nothing. Just stress."

Cassandra exhaled through her nose, clearly trying to be patient.

"Right. Because you always shut down and start crying when you’re just stressed," she muttered, eyeing Rapunzel carefully.

Rapunzel forced out a small, breathy laugh.

"I—okay, maybe I’m a little overwhelmed. But it’s nothing I can’t handle." She straightened her shoulders, pretending the weight on her chest wasn’t crushing her. "Anyway, we should get back. They’re probably looking for us."

Cassandra didn’t argue. She let out a quiet sigh and nodded, turning toward the door.

But then—just as Rapunzel reached for the handle—Cassandra caught her hand.

Rapunzel froze.

Cassandra’s grip was warm, steady.

"You know I’ll always be here for you, right?" she said, her voice softer now, serious in a way that made Rapunzel's chest tighten.

And just like that, Rapunzel hated her.

Hated her for being so kind . For making it so damn hard to keep pretending. For making Rapunzel realize—far too late—why she felt this way.

Why the thought of Cassandra’s girlfriend made her stomach twist.

Why the idea of Cassandra marrying someone else felt unbearable.

Because she was in love with her.

And there was nothing she could do about it.

The sun hung low in the sky, bathing the kingdom in golden light. Rapunzel sat on the windowsill of her chamber, watching the villagers bustle below. Everyone was excited about the royal wedding. Everyone except her.

She clenched her hands into fists, digging her nails into her palms. She had mastered the art of pretending. Smiling when she felt like screaming. Laughing when she wanted to cry. Loving Eugene when her heart belonged to someone else. To Cassandra.

A sudden knock at the door jolted her from her thoughts.

“Come in,” she called, forcing brightness into her voice.

The door creaked open, and there she was—Cassandra, dressed in her knight’s armor, her blue eyes shining with something unreadable.

"Put on some riding boots, Blondie. I have a surprise for you," Cassandra said, smirking.

Rapunzel blinked. "A surprise?"

"You’re getting married in four days. Consider this my version of a bachelorette party," Cassandra said, leaning against the doorframe.

Rapunzel’s heart twisted painfully. She nodded and forced a smile. "Alright, let’s go."

Minutes later, they were galloping through the open fields, the wind whipping through Rapunzel’s hair. For the first time in weeks, she felt… free. Cassandra led them toward a quiet meadow by a lake, where a blanket and a basket of food awaited them.

"You planned all this?" Rapunzel asked, astonished.

"Of course. You’re my best friend." Cassandra grinned. "Now, sit down and enjoy it."

Rapunzel sat, her hands trembling slightly. They ate, they talked, they laughed. And for a moment, Rapunzel let herself pretend. Pretend that this was her life. That Cassandra was hers.

But the weight of reality crashed down on her like a storm. She wasn’t Cassandra’s. Cassandra had someone else. And Rapunzel… Rapunzel was about to marry Eugene.

Tears welled up in her eyes. She bit her lip, willing them to disappear. But they didn’t. The dam broke, and before she knew it, she was sobbing—loud, uncontrollable, heartbreaking sobs.

Cassandra’s face fell.

"Whoa, hey—Rapunzel, what’s wrong?" She reached out, placing a hand on her shoulder.

Rapunzel shook her head violently.

"It’s nothing. I— I’m just overwhelmed. The wedding, the pressure… It’s all too much," she lied.

Cassandra frowned.

"Are you sure? You can tell me anything, you know that."

Rapunzel choked back another sob and nodded, the lie settling like poison in her throat.

"I’m fine," she whispered.

Cassandra didn’t look convinced, but she didn’t push. She simply pulled Rapunzel into a hug, holding her as she cried. And for a moment, Rapunzel allowed herself to be selfish. To melt into Cassandra’s warmth, to cling to her just a little too tightly.

Because in four days, she would be gone.

And Cassandra would never know the truth.

Rapunzel tried to compose herself, wiping at her tears with trembling hands, but Cassandra wasn’t letting this go.

"Rapunzel," Cassandra said firmly, her voice laced with concern. "This isn’t just wedding stress. You’ve been acting… different for a while now. And I’ve never—never—seen you cry like this. Just talk to me. Please."

Rapunzel shook her head, avoiding Cassandra’s gaze. If she looked at her, she would break.

Cassandra exhaled sharply, frustrated but patient.

"Is it Eugene? Did something happen? Or—" she hesitated, her voice quieter, "is it something else?"

Rapunzel squeezed her eyes shut, her breathing ragged. She couldn't do this. She couldn't lie again. Not to Cassandra. Not when she was looking at her like that, with so much care, so much worry—

And before she could stop herself, before she could think about the consequences—

She kissed her.

It was desperate, fleeting, a collision of lips that carried every unspoken word Rapunzel had swallowed over the years. Her hands clung to Cassandra’s armor, pulling her closer, just for a second—

Then reality crashed down on her like a wave, and she pulled away, gasping.

"I—" Her voice caught in her throat. "I’m sorry," she whispered, eyes wide in horror.

Cassandra was frozen. Completely, utterly frozen. Her lips were parted slightly, her expression unreadable. Shock. Confusion. Disbelief.

Rapunzel felt sick.

"I’m so, so sorry," she said again, her voice breaking as fresh tears spilled down her cheeks.

Cassandra finally blinked, snapping out of her stunned silence. She opened her mouth, closed it, then finally found her voice.

"Rapunzel," she said carefully, like she was trying to make sense of what just happened. "I— I have a girlfriend."

"I know," Rapunzel whispered.

"And you’re engaged. To Eugene."

"I know." Her chest ached with every word.

Cassandra ran a hand through her hair, exhaling sharply. "Then what the hell was that?"

Rapunzel let out a broken sob, shaking her head.

"I don’t know," she lied. "I— I wasn’t thinking, I—" Her voice wavered as she buried her face in her hands. "I’m sorry," she whispered again.

Cassandra didn’t say anything.

The silence between them was unbearable.

Rapunzel couldn’t bring herself to look at her, to see the expression on her face. Disgust? Pity? She didn’t know which would hurt more.

All she knew was that she had ruined everything.

And she had no one to blame but herself.

The silence between them stretched, thick and suffocating. Rapunzel couldn’t bring herself to look at Cassandra, her heart pounding so hard it hurt.

Cassandra shifted uncomfortably. “Rapunzel… we need to talk about this.”

“No,” Rapunzel said quickly, her voice barely above a whisper. She shook her head, wrapping her arms around herself. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

Cassandra frowned. “Rapunzel—”

“Please,” she choked out, her voice cracking. “Just—please. Forget it happened.”

Cassandra looked like she wanted to argue, but after a long pause, she simply let out a sharp breath and ran a hand through her hair.

“Fine,” she muttered.

Neither of them moved.

The air between them felt different now, charged with something heavy, something Rapunzel wished she could erase but couldn’t.

Cassandra was the first to break the silence. “…We should head back.”

Rapunzel just nodded.

They packed up the picnic in complete silence. No more laughter, no more easy conversation—just the sound of the wind rustling through the trees and the occasional clink of dishes being put away.

The ride back to the palace was unbearable.

Cassandra kept a careful distance, her posture stiff as she guided her horse. Rapunzel rode behind her, staring at the ground, her hands gripping the reins too tightly.

She wanted to say something—anything—to make things less awful. But what was there to say?

Sorry I kissed you?
Sorry I love you?
Sorry I ruined everything?

So she said nothing.

By the time they reached the palace gates, Cassandra barely looked at her.

“I’ll… see you later,” Cassandra said awkwardly, avoiding Rapunzel’s eyes.

Rapunzel swallowed hard. “Yeah.”

Then, without another word, Cassandra turned and walked away.

Rapunzel stood there for a long time, watching her disappear into the castle.

Her chest ached. Her hands shook.

She had never felt more alone.

Rapunzel hated herself,

so,

much.

She had ruined everything.

She had ruined them .

Rapunzel sat on the edge of her bed, her fingers trembling as she held a crumpled letter in her hands. She had written it for the hundredth time, never finding the right words. Apologies, explanations, things she never thought she’d have to say.

There was a knock on her door, soft but persistent. Rapunzel’s heart skipped a beat. She recognized the knock—gentle but with a firmness that only belonged to one person.

Her breath hitched in her throat, and before she could stop herself, she whispered, “Cassandra.”

The door creaked open slowly, and there she was, standing in the doorway—Cassandra, her expression a mixture of determination and hesitation.

"Can I come in?" Cassandra asked, her voice low.

Rapunzel nodded, unsure if she was ready for this conversation, but knowing it was inevitable. She could feel the weight of Cassandra’s presence in the room, the air thick with unspoken words.

Cassandra stepped inside, and for a long moment, neither of them said anything. Rapunzel looked at her, unsure how to even begin, but Cassandra beat her to it.

“Raps,” she began quietly, her voice steady but filled with something softer, something vulnerable. “I need to say something.”

Rapunzel met her gaze, her heart pounding in her chest. She nodded, her breath shallow, waiting for Cassandra to speak.

Cassandra exhaled slowly, her eyes flickering with uncertainty.

“I’ve loved you for a long time, Rapunzel,” she said, her words almost too quiet to hear. “A really long time. But when you were with Eugene, when you were happy, I couldn’t—” She paused, looking down at the floor as if gathering the courage to continue. “I couldn’t ruin that. I couldn’t be the one to get in the way of your happiness. I told myself it didn’t matter, that I could just... let it go.”

Rapunzel’s chest tightened as her heart ached with the realization of what Cassandra was saying. She wanted to say something, to apologize, but the words caught in her throat.

“I never said anything because I knew you were happy,” Cassandra continued, her voice thick with emotion. “And that’s all that mattered to me. But that doesn’t mean it didn’t hurt. It hurt a lot. Watching you with him, pretending I was okay with it when I wasn’t. I kept my distance because I thought... well, because I thought it was the right thing to do.”

Rapunzel’s heart pounded in her ears, her breath coming faster as she watched Cassandra. She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. She had never even considered this possibility—that Cassandra had loved her all this time, and had been silently suffering, waiting in the shadows.

“I didn’t want to ruin what you had with Eugene,” Cassandra added, her voice cracking with raw honesty. “And now, I’ve... I’ve found someone. Maeve. She’s good for me, Raps. And I don’t want to break that. I don’t want to be the one to do that to her, just like I didn’t want to do it to you before. But it doesn’t mean I don’t still feel this... this ache, this want, for something that maybe I can’t have.”

Rapunzel’s breath caught in her throat. Her mind was reeling. She didn’t know what to say. She wanted to reach out to Cassandra, to tell her she was sorry, to tell her everything she had been feeling—how confused she was, how she’d messed up everything with Eugene. But this? This was something different. Cassandra had kept her feelings bottled up for so long, and now, hearing it all come out—it was overwhelming.

"I didn't mean to hurt you," Rapunzel whispered, her voice shaking. "I never wanted to hurt you, Cassandra. But I... I didn’t know." Her eyes filled with tears. "I didn’t know how much you were suffering. I just... I didn’t understand."

Cassandra met her gaze, her eyes soft but resolute.

"You couldn't have known. But now you do, and I just... I need you to know that I’m not going to ask you for anything, Rapunzel. I’m not going to ask you to choose me, or anything like that. I have Maeve now, and I’m happy with her. I just... I needed you to hear this. I needed you to know that you’ve never been alone in this."

Rapunzel’s heart broke as she watched Cassandra, her mind a storm of emotions. There was a part of her—deep down—that still longed for something with Cassandra. But now, after everything, she wasn’t sure if it was too late.

Cassandra had already moved on. She had Maeve. She had someone who made her happy. And Rapunzel had... broken everything.

The silence stretched between them, thick and uncomfortable, but it was also filled with a sense of finality. Cassandra had said what she needed to say, and Rapunzel could only sit there, her heart heavy with regret.

“Do you... do you still want to be friends?” Rapunzel finally asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Cassandra gave a small, bittersweet smile.

“I’ve always wanted to be your friend, Raps. Nothing’s going to change that.”

Rapunzel nodded, tears brimming in her eyes, but she didn’t let them fall. Not yet. She wasn’t sure what to feel, but she knew that whatever came next, it wouldn’t be easy.

Rapunzel stood at the entrance of the grand hall, the weight of her wedding gown suffocating, its heavy fabric clinging to her like chains. Her hands trembled at her sides, fingers cold despite the warmth of the castle. She could hear the murmurs of the crowd, feel the hundreds of expectant eyes locked onto her, waiting.

Her father sat on his throne, shoulders squared, his expression unreadable but his meaning clear: This is your duty. Do not falter.
Her mother, radiant and composed, clutched her hands together, eyes shining with unshed tears—not of sorrow, but of pride.
And then there was Eugene, standing at the altar, looking at her with so much love, so much trust, that it nearly broke her in half.

But none of them mattered. Not really.

Because Cassandra was there.

Buried in the sea of nobles and dignitaries, dressed in formal armor, her dark hair tied back with meticulous precision. Her expression was unreadable, her posture rigid, her hands clenched into fists at her sides. As if she were holding something back. As if she were bracing for impact.

Rapunzel’s heart slammed against her ribs, the sound of it filling her ears like war drums. She took a step forward, her breath shallow.

She could do this.

She could smile.
She could say the vows.
She could play the part.
She could be the queen they expected her to be, the perfect daughter, the devoted wife.
She could bury the part of herself that screamed for someone else.

But then—

Her eyes met Cassandra’s.

Everything inside her collapsed.

The air was suddenly too thick, the walls pressing in, the scent of flowers and candle wax turning her stomach. Her vision blurred at the edges, and her throat tightened until she could barely breathe.

The priest began to speak, but the words were nothing but distant echoes, drowned out by the pounding in her skull.

This is wrong.

Eugene reached for her hand, his grip warm, steady, grounding.

“Rapunzel?” he whispered, voice lined with concern.

Her hands shook harder. She tried to steady herself, tried to find something to hold onto, but everything—everything—was slipping.

"I—" Her voice cracked.

The room stilled.

Gasps rippled through the crowd, whispers surging like waves against stone.

Eugene’s hand tightened around hers, fingers like iron. “Rapunzel?”

Tears burned her eyes, her throat, her chest. She tried to swallow them, tried to shove them down with all the other things she had buried for years, but they clawed their way free.

“I’m so sorry, Eugene,” she whispered. “I can’t do this.”

For a moment, there was nothing but silence. Heavy. Suffocating. Absolute.

Then—

Her father’s jaw locked, his knuckles white against the arms of his throne. Her mother’s lips parted in stunned horror. Somewhere in the crowd, someone muttered a curse.

And Eugene.

Eugene stared at her, his face frozen, the hurt sinking in like a knife.

Then he let out a slow, trembling breath and—smiled. But it wasn’t the smile she knew, the one that made her feel like the sun was rising inside her.

It was small. Hollow. Resigned.

"You can’t do this to me," he murmured.

Rapunzel broke.

A sob tore from her chest, raw and desperate, and she hated herself for it. Hated herself for hurting him. For ruining everything. For wanting someone else.

The silence that followed was suffocating.

Then, movement. A shift. A breath before the storm.

A rustle of fabric as her mother slowly rose from her seat, her face pale, lips pressed into a tight, trembling line. Her father’s hands curled into fists against the arms of his throne, his knuckles white. Whispers slithered through the crowd, scandalized gasps laced with shock, confusion—rage.

Eugene still stood before her, still held her hand. But his grip was looser now, slipping. She could feel his heartbreak in the way his fingers twitched, as if part of him still hoped she would take it back. That this was some cruel, fleeting moment of panic, that she would look at him and realize her mistake.

She couldn’t.

She wouldn’t.

Rapunzel took a step back.

The murmurs grew louder.

Another step.

Gasps.

The weight of every gaze in the room pressed against her, scorching, heavy, unbearable. The faces blurred together—shocked nobles, disappointed friends, betrayed subjects. The perfect princess unraveling before their eyes.

She turned.

And ran.

The skirts of her gown tangled around her legs as she stumbled forward, past the stunned guests, past the horrified gasps and the barely whispered how could she? The golden embroidery on her dress, once beautiful, now felt like shackles, dragging her down, slowing her escape.

"Rapunzel!" Eugene's voice rang through the hall, no longer soft, no longer pleading—sharp, wounded, furious.

She didn’t stop.

She couldn’t.

The grand doors loomed before her, impossibly far, the space between stretching like an eternity. Her breath came in shallow, frantic gasps, her vision swimming. She could feel it—the disappointment, the fury, the betrayal, all of it clawing at her back, begging her to turn around, to fix it, to do what she was supposed to do.

She reached the doors, grasping at the cold handles with shaking hands.

One last glance.

Her father, rigid with silent fury.
Her mother, tears shimmering in her eyes—not of sadness, but of shame.
Eugene, his jaw clenched, his hands curled into fists, his eyes burning with something Rapunzel had never seen before.

And Cassandra.

Still frozen. Still unmoving. Still silent.

Rapunzel’s breath hitched.

Then she pushed the doors open, and the world outside swallowed her whole.

Rapunzel barely remembered making it back inside the castle.

Her body moved on instinct, her feet carrying her through the endless hallways, each step heavier, slower, suffocating. The grand corridors blurred around her, the golden candlelight casting long, shifting shadows, distorting the world into something too big, too much.

She couldn’t breathe.

The dress was choking her.

Layers upon layers of silk and lace clung to her skin, a gilded cage wrapped around her ribs, squeezing tighter with every breath. The embroidered bodice pressed against her chest like iron, her lungs struggling to expand. The delicate golden threads itched against her skin, the weight of the gown dragging at her like an anchor, like a sentence she could never escape.

She reached her bedroom door with trembling hands, forcing it open before stumbling inside.

The second it shut behind her, she ripped at the gown.

The delicate buttons at the back, the pristine lace sleeves—all of it had to go. Her breath came in shallow, frantic gasps as she struggled against the fabric, her fingers clawing at the seams, at the silk, at the thing that had nearly crushed her beneath its weight.

The dress pooled at her feet in a crumpled heap of white and gold.

She stood there, bare feet on the cold floor, her heart hammering, her body shaking. The room felt impossibly quiet now, the silence pressing in on her ears, but at least— at least she could breathe.

She barely had time to grab the nearest gown—something simple, something light—before the knock came.

Hard. Sharp. Unforgiving.

She froze.

Another knock. Louder. Impatient. Her father.

She swallowed the lump in her throat, her hands curling into fists at her sides.

“Rapunzel.” His voice was like a blade—steady, restrained, but furious. “Open the door. Now.”

She didn’t move.

Her mother’s voice came next, softer, but laced with something colder. “Please, Rapunzel. We need to talk.”

She shut her eyes. No.

She couldn’t face them. Not like this.

“Rapunzel.” Her father’s voice sharpened. “You will not ignore us.”

The handle rattled.

Her breath hitched. The walls of her bedroom suddenly felt too close, too tight, suffocating in a way the dress had been, trapping her in a space that no longer felt like hers.

She just wanted them gone.

“Go away,” she whispered.

Silence.

Then, her father’s voice, lower now, colder. “We will not—”

“I never wanted this.”

The words ripped from her throat before she could stop them, raw and shaking, heavy with every feeling she had swallowed down for years.

The hallway outside the door fell silent.

Her heart pounded in the quiet, but now that she had started, she couldn’t stop.

“This—this life,” she choked out. “I never wanted it. I never wanted to be queen. I never wanted—” Her breath trembled. Eugene. The wedding. The life they had all mapped out for her. “I never wanted any of it.”

She waited for something. A reaction. A word.

Instead, silence.

When her father finally spoke, his voice was slow, careful. “Rapunzel,” he said, as if speaking to a child, “you’re upset. But you don’t mean that.”

She let out a hollow, breathless laugh.

“I do.”

Another beat of silence.

Then her mother, still quiet, still unreadable, murmured, “We don’t understand.”

Rapunzel squeezed her eyes shut. Of course they didn’t.

Of course they never had.

For the first time in her life, Rapunzel’s parents had nothing to say.

She could feel them lingering outside her door, could picture the stunned look on her father’s face, the way his hands would be clenched at his sides, his shoulders squared in barely restrained anger. But it was her mother she braced herself for.

The quiet one. The calculating one.

And then—softly, carefully—her mother spoke.

“Rapunzel,” she murmured, her voice barely more than a breath, “I know today was overwhelming. I know how much pressure you must be feeling. But…” A pause. A calculated pause. “It was always meant to be this way.”

No.

Rapunzel’s hands trembled at her sides.

Her mother’s voice remained gentle, soothing—practiced. “I remember my wedding day, you know.” A soft laugh. “I was nervous, too. It’s a lot, stepping into this kind of responsibility. But you were born for this. You—”

“I wasn’t,” Rapunzel cut in, her voice hoarse, her throat raw.

Silence.

For the first time since this conversation began, she heard her mother’s breath hitch.

Rapunzel swallowed against the knot in her throat. She wasn’t supposed to say that. She was supposed to keep it in, supposed to pretend like she always had, supposed to accept her fate like a good daughter, like a perfect princess.

But she couldn’t. Not anymore.

Her voice cracked when she spoke again. “I know you think I’ll change my mind. I know you think I’m just scared or confused or—” She let out a bitter, shaking laugh. “Or just being selfish. But I know what I feel.” She gripped her arms, nails digging into her skin. “And I don’t want this.”

Another pause. Longer this time.

Her father exhaled sharply, muttering something under his breath before his footsteps retreated down the hall.

But her mother didn’t leave.

Rapunzel could hear the hesitation in her breathing, the way she lingered just beyond the door. Then, softer than before, like she was speaking to the little girl Rapunzel used to be, her mother whispered, “You will, one day.”

And then she was gone.

The second their footsteps faded, Rapunzel collapsed.

Her legs gave out beneath her, and she barely caught herself against the edge of the bed before her body hit the floor. The breath she had been holding finally broke free, shattering into a sob so deep, so raw, so aching that it felt like it had been building for years.

Tears streamed down her face, hot and relentless, as she buried herself in the blankets, curling into herself like a child. The walls of the castle had never felt colder, emptier.

She was alone.

For the first time in her life, truly, completely alone.

And she had never felt more lost.

The pounding at the door shattered the silence of the night.

Rapunzel jerked awake, her heart hammering against her ribs. For a brief, disoriented moment, she thought she was still dreaming—until she heard his voice.

“Rapunzel!” A heavy fist struck the wood again, harder this time. “Open the door.”

Eugene.

Her stomach twisted.

The room was dark, the moon casting long, silver streaks of light across the floor. Her blankets were tangled around her legs, damp with sweat. The lingering taste of salt on her lips told her she had cried herself to sleep.

And now—now he was here.

She hesitated, her fingers hovering just above the handle. She should send him away. She should.

But she didn’t.

Instead, she opened the door.

Eugene stumbled forward before she could step aside, the scent of wine and anger and heartbreak clinging to him like a second skin. His hair was tousled, his shirt wrinkled, his eyes bloodshot and burning.

“Eugene,” she whispered, throat tight. “You’re drunk.”

He laughed. A short, bitter sound. “Yeah. No kidding.” He turned to face her, and something in his expression made her breath catch. He looked wrecked.

Rapunzel swallowed hard. “You shouldn’t be here.”

“You shouldn’t have left me standing at that altar.”

Her stomach dropped.

He stared at her, searching her face, his own twisted in something between confusion and pain. “I just—” He exhaled sharply, shaking his head. “I don’t get it, Rapunzel. I don’t understand.”

Her throat ached. “Eugene—”

“No.” He stepped closer, and she resisted the urge to shrink back. “You owe me this. You owe me the truth.” His voice cracked. “Was I not enough for you?”

Her heart splintered.

“You are,” she breathed. Too much. Too perfect. Too good.

He let out a sharp, disbelieving laugh, running a hand through his hair. “Then why? Why didn’t you say anything? Why did you let it get this far if you—” He broke off, his voice thick, his jaw clenched.

She had no answer.

Because she had wanted to want this. Because she had convinced herself for years that love and duty were the same thing. Because she had been too afraid to question it.

Eugene’s gaze flickered over her face, searching, desperate. Then, quieter, almost dreading, he asked, “Is there someone else?”

Her chest tightened.

She should tell him. She should rip it off like a bandage, let him hate her, let him be done with her so he could move on.

But she couldn’t.

She couldn’t tell him.

Because it didn’t make sense. Because how could she explain something she barely understood herself? Because how could she look him in the eye and tell him the truth when she was still trying to believe it herself?

So she did what she had always done.

She lied.

“No,” she whispered.

His face crumbled.

And Rapunzel hated herself for it.

Eugene stood there, staring at her, the silence stretching between them like a knife’s edge.

Then—softly, brokenly—he whispered, “Then why?”

Rapunzel squeezed her eyes shut, as if that could stop the way he was looking at her. Like she had taken everything good between them and crushed it in her hands. Like he didn’t recognize her anymore.

“Eugene, I—” Her voice wavered. “I don’t know.”

His breath hitched. He shook his head, like he couldn’t believe this, like he didn’t want to.

“That’s not good enough.” His voice was sharp, desperate. “You don’t just—just wake up one morning and decide to throw away everything! We were—” His voice broke. “We were supposed to be forever.”

Forever.

The word twisted inside her like a blade.

“I never wanted to hurt you,” she whispered.

“But you did.”

His hands clenched at his sides, and then—he laughed. A bitter, shaking laugh.

“You know,” he said, voice hoarse, “I spent years loving you. Choosing you. I would have done anything for you, Rapunzel.” His hands trembled. “But maybe that was my mistake. Maybe I should have realized that you were never going to choose me back.”

Her throat closed.

That wasn’t true. She had chosen him. She had tried. She had tried so hard.

But it hadn’t been enough.

And now—now she was watching him break.

Eugene let out a slow, shaky breath, his fingers pressing into his temples like he was trying to hold himself together.

“I gave you everything,” he whispered. “And you couldn’t even give me the truth.”

The words hit like a slap.

And the worst part?

He was right.

Rapunzel nodded, blinking back tears. “I know.”

He let out another broken laugh, shaking his head. “God, you’re not even going to fight me on this, are you? You’re just gonna stand there and—” He dragged a hand over his face, his breath ragged.

“Say it,” Rapunzel whispered.

Eugene’s eyes snapped back to her.

She lifted her chin, but her hands were trembling at her sides. “Say whatever you need to. Yell at me. Hate me.” Break me. “I deserve it.”

His face twisted, raw with heartbreak. And for the first time in her life, Eugene looked at her like he regretted ever loving her.

“Yeah,” he said, voice thick with tears. “Maybe you do.”

Rapunzel flinched.

Eugene turned away before she could see the next tear fall. His steps were uneven as he reached the door, gripping the handle like it was the only thing keeping him upright.

For a moment, it looked like he might say something else.

But then—he just left.

And Rapunzel sank to the floor, shaking, sobbing, drowning in everything she had done.

A week had passed.

Seven long, aching days since she had left Eugene standing at the altar. Seven days since she had felt the weight of the lie settle around her, heavier than any dress, any crown. She hadn’t left her room once, except for meals, but even then, she barely ate. The castle seemed to stretch endlessly, like a prison with no walls, but her room was a small, suffocating cell of its own.

Her parents had come to her door once or twice, their voices muffled through the thick wood. They wanted to know what happened. They wanted to know why she couldn’t just go back. But she didn’t answer. She couldn’t.

And when they left, she would curl into herself, feeling the full weight of everything she had done—the broken promises, the silent disappointments, the heartbreak she had caused. But none of that hurt like the thought of Cassandra.

Every day, Rapunzel thought of her. Her smile, her laugh, the way she had looked at Rapunzel with something more than friendship, something unspoken. The way her eyes had softened when their gazes met, the quiet understanding that passed between them in a crowded room.

It hurt.

It hurt so much to think of her, to want her, when she knew that it wasn’t possible. She couldn’t even tell anyone—not her parents, not Eugene, not Cassandra. It was a truth so heavy and unspoken that it threatened to suffocate her.

She had lied to Eugene. She had said there was no one else, but the truth—the truth was that she had fallen for someone else long before the wedding.

Cassandra.

And now, locked away in her room, Rapunzel couldn’t stop thinking about her.

How had it happened? She had never planned it. She had never expected to feel the way she did, the way her heart would race whenever she saw Cassandra, the way she would catch herself smiling at the smallest thing, like the sound of her voice or the way she moved so confidently through a room. It wasn’t just attraction—it was something deeper, something more terrifying.

It was love.

But it couldn’t be. She couldn’t let it be. Cassandra was not hers. She would never be.

Rapunzel’s hands shook as she clutched the edge of her bed, staring at the empty room around her. The space felt too quiet. The emptiness pressed down on her chest, a constant reminder that she had ruined everything. She didn’t deserve Cassandra.

A soft knock on the door interrupted her thoughts.

“Rapunzel?”

Her mother’s voice, quiet, concerned.

Rapunzel didn’t respond right away. She wasn’t ready to face her, to face anyone. She wanted to hide.

But then, the door creaked open, and her mother stepped inside, her face as unreadable as ever, though Rapunzel could see the concern in her eyes.

“Your father and I…” She paused, choosing her words carefully. “We’re worried about you.”

Rapunzel nodded slowly, her gaze fixed on the floor. She didn’t want to face her mother, didn’t want to hear about how disappointed they were, how much they expected of her.

“I know, Mother,” Rapunzel whispered.

Her mother crossed the room and sat down next to her, her hands resting gently on Rapunzel’s shoulders. For a moment, there was silence. Rapunzel could feel her mother’s presence, feel her trying to bridge the gap between them.

“I don’t understand,” her mother said softly, her voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t understand why you couldn’t marry Eugene. He’s everything we ever wanted for you, Rapunzel.”

Rapunzel felt a sharp pang in her chest, but she didn’t say anything. What could she say? That she had never wanted this life? That her heart was caught in a place it couldn’t be? That the only thing she could feel was the echo of someone else’s absence?

Her mother’s voice broke through her thoughts again. “You’re still our daughter. You know that, don’t you?”

Rapunzel’s chest tightened, and she turned away, staring out the window, her heart aching. “I’m sorry, Mother. I just… I can’t…”

Her voice cracked. She didn’t even know how to explain it.

Her mother’s grip tightened on her shoulders, though her tone remained calm.

“You can’t what, Rapunzel?”

Rapunzel’s heart was pounding. She didn’t want to admit the truth, not to her mother, not to anyone. But the words spilled out before she could stop them.

“I don’t love him, Mother. Not like he wants me too.”

Her mother went still, her hands falling away from her shoulders. The silence between them stretched painfully long.

“I thought I could,” Rapunzel continued, her voice breaking. “I thought I could marry Eugene. I thought I could be the queen everyone wanted me to be. But I can’t. I can’t pretend anymore.”

Her mother’s breath caught in her throat.

“Then what, Rapunzel?” she whispered, her voice trembling. “What are you going to do?”

Rapunzel wiped her eyes with the back of her hand, trying to swallow the sob that was rising in her chest.

“I don’t know,” she whispered, her voice cracking.

The garden was quieter than usual, the air thick with the scent of roses and the soft hum of distant birds. Rapunzel wandered through the maze of hedges, her footsteps slow and heavy, as though the world around her was pressing against her chest, making each breath harder to take.

It had been a week. A week since she had seen Cassandra, a week since she had locked herself in her room, drowning in her own guilt, in the aching void that was now her life.

And now, as if the universe had decided it was time for them to meet again, Rapunzel turned a corner, and there she was.

Cassandra.

Standing by the fountain, her back to Rapunzel, her hands resting on the stone edge of the basin, eyes downcast, her dark hair cascading over her shoulders. She was as beautiful as ever, but to Rapunzel, the world shifted.

The soft whisper of her name caught in Rapunzel’s throat. Her heart skipped a beat, a strange mix of excitement and fear flooding her veins.

“Cassandra?” Rapunzel’s voice cracked as she said her name out loud for the first time in what felt like forever.

Cassandra didn’t immediately respond. Her back stiffened slightly, and Rapunzel could feel the tension in the air between them, thick and suffocating. She had no idea what to say. She had no idea how to approach her after everything, after everything they had left unsaid.

Cassandra finally turned, and their eyes met for the first time in days.

The world stopped for just a moment.

Cassandra’s lips parted, but no words came out. Her gaze flickered to the ground, then back to Rapunzel, her expression unreadable.

Rapunzel’s heart thudded against her chest. Say something , she begged herself. Anything.

“Hi,” Rapunzel offered, her voice coming out as more of a whisper than she intended.

“Hi,” Cassandra replied, her voice quiet, distant, as if she were unsure how to bridge the distance that had grown between them.

There was a long, awkward pause.

The silence stretched on like it was something tangible, like it was holding them both hostage in the moment. Rapunzel could feel her palms start to sweat, and she clasped her hands together tightly, trying to find something—anything—to say.

“I—I haven’t seen you around lately,” Cassandra said finally, her eyes still avoiding Rapunzel’s, though her voice had a gentle edge to it. It wasn’t angry, but it wasn’t warm either.

“I’ve been… I’ve been in my room,” Rapunzel admitted, her voice faltering. She could feel the weight of her own words, the thin excuse that didn’t feel like enough.

“Yeah,” Cassandra murmured, nodding slightly. She shifted, running her fingers along the edge of the stone fountain, as if to distract herself. “I figured.”

Another awkward silence.

Rapunzel wanted to say more. She wanted to explain, to apologize for everything—for the wedding, for the lies, for the hurt she had caused, but the words stuck in her throat, tangled with fear and guilt. She couldn’t look at Cassandra without feeling like she had shattered everything between them.

“I… I’m sorry,” Rapunzel blurted, before she could stop herself. “I didn’t mean to—” Her voice broke off, and she looked away, swallowing the lump in her throat. “I didn’t want to hurt you. I didn’t mean for things to get so... messy.”

Cassandra’s expression softened, but only for a brief moment before the walls around her heart seemed to go back up. She straightened, clearing her throat, but didn’t meet Rapunzel’s gaze.

“It’s not your fault,” Cassandra said, her voice low, almost unreadable. “I guess... we never really knew where we stood, did we?”

The words stung more than Rapunzel expected.

She opened her mouth, but nothing came out.

She wanted to reach out, to fix this, to somehow make everything right, but all she could do was stand there like a stranger. Like someone who didn’t belong.

Cassandra took a step back, her hand brushing against the side of the fountain. “I guess I should go,” she said, her voice distant again. She began to turn away, as if ready to leave, but something—something in Rapunzel’s chest—made her take a step forward.

“Wait!” Rapunzel called out, her voice desperate.

Cassandra stopped, but didn’t turn around. The air between them felt too thick, the distance too wide.

Rapunzel’s heart hammered in her chest. “Can we just... talk? Please?”

Cassandra’s shoulders stiffened, and for a moment, she said nothing. The silence between them felt louder than anything else in the world.

Finally, Cassandra turned around, and Rapunzel’s breath caught. Cassandra’s eyes were softer than before, though still guarded. There was something unreadable there, something distant.

“I think it’s better if we don’t,” Cassandra said quietly. “I think it’s better if we just... leave it.”

Rapunzel’s stomach twisted painfully. Leave it.

“Cassandra, I—” she began, but the words felt like they were made of lead. They wouldn't come out.

“I need to go,” Cassandra said, her voice almost a whisper. “Please, Rapunzel.”

And with that, she turned and walked away, her footsteps fading into the distance, leaving Rapunzel standing alone in the garden.

Her heart felt like it was shattering all over again.

Rapunzel walked through the village square with her head held high, doing her best to exude the grace and poise of a princess. She had to. It was her duty, after all. The people expected her to be strong, dignified, to wear the crown she had been born to wear and smile through the storm.

Her dress, though simpler than the one she had worn to the failed wedding, still shimmered with royal elegance. Her posture was straight, shoulders back, and her expression carefully composed.

But her heart wasn’t in it.

The people of the village went about their daily routines, nodding in acknowledgment as she passed, but there was something in the air—a murmur she couldn’t quite shake off. Their eyes. The whispers.

Rapunzel clenched her fists at her sides, trying to ignore it, but it wasn’t just their gaze that stung. It was the words.

“You hear? The princess left Eugene at the altar. Can you believe it? Left him standing there, all alone.”

“I heard she was in love with someone else... someone else that isn’t him.”

“She’s nothing like her parents thought she’d be.”

Rapunzel’s steps faltered, but she quickly regained her composure, forcing herself to keep walking, to keep moving forward, like she had been taught all her life.

But the sting wouldn’t leave. It burrowed deeper, each word landing like a heavy blow, until the pain became unbearable. She knew they were judging her. She deserved their judgment, didn’t she? She had abandoned Eugene, left him in the ruins of their life together. How could she not deserve it?

As she walked further into the village, she felt Cassandra’s presence beside her. The guard, ever-watchful, her sword resting at her side. Rapunzel knew she should be grateful, that Cassandra had stayed by her side through all of this, even though she had never asked for it. But right now, the warmth of Cassandra’s proximity felt suffocating.

The worst part was that Cassandra didn’t belong to her. She could never belong to Rapunzel. Cassandra was a knight, a protector, and she had someone else, someone who wasn’t Rapunzel.

It was that thought that made her stomach churn as they walked together.

A woman from the crowd called out, her voice sharp.

"Look at the princess, walking around like nothing’s wrong. How could she do that to Eugene? And now she’s parading around like a princess again. She doesn’t deserve it."

Rapunzel’s steps faltered. Her heart ached as the woman’s words tore through her. She didn’t deserve it.She didn’t deserve the crown, the title, the respect. Not after what she had done to Eugene.

But before she could reply—or even gather the strength to speak—Cassandra stepped forward, her voice low but firm.

“Don’t speak of the princess that way,” she said, her tone fierce, protective.

The woman narrowed her eyes, her lips curling in contempt. “And who are you to defend her? A knight? Is that what she’s come to now? Hiding behind her guards?”

Rapunzel wanted to tell Cassandra to stop, to leave it be. She didn’t deserve Cassandra’s defense. She didn’t deserve any of this. But the words wouldn’t come. She could only stand there, feeling the weight of the judgment press down on her like a vice.

Cassandra took a step forward, her hand resting on the hilt of her sword, eyes narrowed. “You don’t know the full story. Keep your opinions to yourself.”

Rapunzel winced. The last thing she wanted was Cassandra to get into trouble over her. It made her feel even more worthless, more like a burden.

And worse, Cassandra was here, so close, her loyalty burning like a flame, but Rapunzel knew deep down that Cassandra was already taken—by someone else, someone who wasn’t her.

Cassandra didn’t belong here, beside her. Not like this.

“Cassandra,” Rapunzel whispered, her voice cracking, the guilt suffocating her, “Please… just stop.”

But Cassandra didn’t seem to hear her. She stood tall, looking down at the woman with an intensity that was both frightening and impressive.

The woman sneered, but with Cassandra standing guard, she didn’t dare say another word.

But as the silence stretched between them, Rapunzel could feel her heart breaking into pieces. She felt trapped in her own skin, suffocating under the weight of her responsibilities, under the crushing reality of what she had done.

She couldn’t do this anymore. She couldn’t be the princess they wanted her to be.

With a sharp breath, Rapunzel turned and started walking quickly, not caring if Cassandra followed. She just needed to get away—away from the expectations, from the people who judged her, from the overwhelming presence of someone she could never have.

She didn’t stop until she reached the edge of the forest, the trees rising around her like a barrier between her and the world.

And then, she ran.

Her feet hit the soft ground, branches snapping beneath her, the cool air rushing past her face. She didn’t know where she was going, didn’t care. She just needed to run.

Rapunzel ran until she could no longer hear the village, until the whispers and the pain of the past week began to fade. And as she ran deeper into the forest, she felt like she could finally breathe again.

But it didn’t take long before she realized: Even here, in the quiet of the woods, she was still running from herself.

She stopped, breathless, leaning against a tree, her heart racing. And as she stood there, alone, she couldn’t stop the tears that spilled down her face.

She didn’t know what she was doing anymore. She didn’t know how to fix this.

All she knew was that she was lost. And that maybe, just maybe, she had been lost all along.

Rapunzel’s chest heaved as she stumbled through the dense forest, the branches scratching at her arms as if they, too, were trying to hold her back. Her thoughts were a jumble of confusion, guilt, and shame—none of it making any sense, none of it making her feel better. Her heart still felt like it was being crushed by a weight she couldn’t escape.

And then, as she reached a clearing, she stopped. She leaned against a large oak tree, sinking to her knees, her sobs echoing through the quiet forest. She couldn’t escape it. She couldn’t escape the guilt that was suffocating her, the deep, gnawing feeling that she had ruined everything—everything with Eugene, everything with Cassandra.

She didn’t know how long she had been sitting there, trembling and broken. The world seemed distant, far away. It was as if she were living in someone else’s life.

“Rapunzel,” a soft voice said, breaking through the fog of her thoughts.

She looked up, startled, and saw Cassandra standing just a few paces away, her face soft with concern. Cassandra’s sword was still at her side, but there was no threat in her posture. Just... care.

Rapunzel wiped at her tear-streaked face, feeling her heart twist.

"What are you doing here?" she whispered, her voice hoarse.

Cassandra didn’t respond right away. She just moved toward her, kneeling down beside her slowly, carefully, as if not to startle her.

“I’m your knight, remember?” Cassandra said quietly, her gaze soft but steady.

Rapunzel’s breath caught, and she leaned against the tree for support, her hands trembling at her sides.

Rapunzel closed her eyes, a deep ache in her chest. The guilt gnawed at her even more now, the weight of everything she had done and could never undo pressing down.

“Cassandra,” she whispered, her voice barely a breath, “will I ever stop feeling guilty for this? For everything? For all the people I’ve hurt?”

Cassandra’s eyes softened. She reached out, her hand hesitating for a second before gently resting on Rapunzel’s arm.

“I wish I could tell you that it gets easier,” she said, her voice full of quiet empathy. “But it doesn’t really go away, does it? The guilt? It becomes part of who we are, but it doesn’t define us.”

Rapunzel closed her eyes again, feeling tears well up.

“I never wanted this. I never wanted to fall in love with you," she admitted through shaky breaths. "I didn’t... I didn’t want this to ruin everything. I didn’t want to ruin your life, Cassandra. I shouldn’t have come out of that tower. I shouldn't have been saved. All I've done is hurt everyone. Eugene... you... I—"

Her voice faltered, and she shook her head. "Maybe I should’ve just stayed locked away. Then…."

Rapunzel never finished what she was going to say.

Because soft lips were pressed against her own.

Because Cassandra was kissing her.

Rapunzel froze, stunned, her mind going blank. The kiss was nothing like she had expected—tender, but full of a raw emotion that left Rapunzel breathless. For a heartbeat, it felt like everything was right in the world again, but it was fleeting, like a dream fading when she woke.

As soon as Cassandra pulled away, Rapunzel’s breath caught in her throat. She looked into Cassandra’s eyes, lost for words. What had just happened?

“Cassandra,” Rapunzel whispered, her voice trembling. “What about Maeve? I thought... you and her... you were together.”

Cassandra’s expression darkened slightly, a shadow passing over her face. She looked away briefly before meeting Rapunzel’s gaze again, her eyes guarded but sincere.

“We... we broke up a few days ago,” she said softly, her voice quieter than usual. “After a terrible fight. She... she left.”

Rapunzel’s chest tightened, the weight of those words heavy in the stillness of the forest. She took a shaky breath, her heart aching not only for the situation between Cassandra and Maeve but for the lingering guilt that seemed to press down on her. Was it because of her?

"Why?" Rapunzel asked, her voice barely a whisper.

It didn't make sense. Cassandra had told her that Maeve was good for her, that she was the one.

Cassandra looked away, her expression tightening, brows furrowed in frustration.

"Why, Cassandra?" Rapunzel repeated, her voice trembling now.

Cassandra shook her head, a deep sigh escaping her lips.

"It doesn't matter," she muttered, her words heavy with something unspoken.

Rapunzel’s chest tightened, her breath coming faster, the weight of the moment crushing her.

“Is... is it my fault?” she whispered, her voice breaking on the last word. “I never meant to come between you two... I never wanted to hurt anyone. But I—”

“No,” Cassandra interrupted gently, stepping closer, her hand resting on Rapunzel’s trembling arm. “It’s not your fault, Rapunzel. Please... it’s not you.”

But Rapunzel couldn’t help but shake her head. The guilt was suffocating her, dragging her deeper into a spiral of self-blame. It had to be her fault, didn’t it? Everything felt like it had unraveled ever since she met Cassandra.

“I... I ruined everything,” Rapunzel choked out, her voice cracking as the tears began to rise again. “I ruined your relationship with Maeve. I never meant to, but I did... I’ve always ruined things.” She wiped her eyes desperately, feeling lost, so terribly lost.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, the words feeling hollow, not enough. “I should leave. I should go away. Leave the castle, leave everything. Maybe that will make it stop... make everything stop hurting.”

Cassandra’s eyes softened as she stepped closer, but Rapunzel took a step back, her breath quickening, her panic rising.

“I can’t stay here anymore. I can’t pretend like I didn’t break everything. I’ll just... I’ll just cause more pain, more mess. I shouldn’t have come out of the tower. I shouldn’t have—”

Rapunzel’s words faltered as she tried to calm the overwhelming panic that threatened to swallow her whole. But no matter how hard she tried to breathe, the tightness in her chest wouldn’t relent.

“Rapunzel,” Cassandra said firmly, her voice soothing but unyielding. She reached out and cupped Rapunzel’s face, gently, yet with purpose, like she was trying to anchor her to the moment. “Don’t run away from this. Don’t run away from me.”

Before Rapunzel could respond, before she could protest any further, Cassandra kissed her again. The kiss was soft, gentle, yet filled with an undeniable force that made Rapunzel’s breath catch in her throat. The panic that had been swelling inside her faded into something else—something warm, something raw—and for the first time in what felt like forever, Rapunzel’s heart stopped racing, just for a moment.

When Cassandra pulled away, Rapunzel’s eyes fluttered open, her pulse still thundering in her chest, unsure of what had just happened.

“Please,” Cassandra whispered, her forehead resting against Rapunzel’s. “Don’t run. Stay here. With me.”

Rapunzel's breath hitched in her throat as she looked at Cassandra, her gaze clouded with confusion and guilt. Her mind was still reeling, still spinning, still haunted by the thoughts of Eugene and the mess she had made of everything.

“But I... I’ve already ruined things,” Rapunzel whispered, her voice trembling. “With Maeve, with you... I don’t even know how to make it right. I don’t think I can fix this.”

Cassandra sighed softly, her thumb brushing tenderly over Rapunzel’s cheek.
“Maeve and I… it was never meant to be anything,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

Rapunzel’s heart skipped. “But you said—”

“I said a lot of things,” Cassandra interrupted, her words sharp but laden with regret. “I was so sure you were going to choose him, no matter what. I thought you kissed me because you were confused, and I convinced myself I’d be the one left hurt in the end.” She pulled away just slightly, her eyes avoiding Rapunzel’s. “But then... you left him at the altar. You didn’t choose him. Not in front of everyone.” Her voice wavered as her gaze finally met Rapunzel’s. “And I... I couldn’t fight it anymore.”

Rapunzel’s eyes fluttered shut, the tears still slipping down her face, a relentless reminder of everything she couldn’t undo. The weight of her choices crushed her chest, the turmoil in her heart swirling like a storm.

“Why couldn’t you fight it?” Rapunzel asked, her voice trembling as she opened her eyes, searching Cassandra’s face for answers.

Cassandra’s response was soft, but firm. “You know why.”

Rapunzel swallowed hard, her throat tight, unsure of how to untangle the mess of emotions choking her. She had never felt so lost in her life. For so long, she had buried these feelings, locked them away for fear of everything they could destroy. But now, standing here, so close to Cassandra, she couldn’t help but wonder if this was the moment she had been waiting for. The moment she had longed for but had been too afraid to reach out for.

And then, without thinking, without hesitation, Rapunzel kissed her. The kiss was fierce, desperate, as though it was the only thing holding her together. She felt Cassandra’s tears mingling with her own, felt the warmth of her arms wrapping around her, pulling her closer.

It was probably wrong.

Everything about this was wrong.

This relationship.

But for once, Rapunzel didn’t care. For once, she didn’t want to do what was expected of her. She didn’t want to follow the rules. She wanted to live for herself. To feel what she was finally allowed to feel.

And in that kiss, for the first time in so long, Rapunzel felt alive.

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