She bit her lip, examining the flowers in her blonde braid from the mirror but not really seeing them fully. They reminded her of springtime, of summer, not of dancing in a hot and crowded ballroom.
Why was she so nervous, so hesitant? It wasnât because of the party â she loved parties, after all. Maybe it was the buildup of anxiety which had been playing at her all week. The lessons, the fittings, the conferences and meetings â all had taken their toll on the princess and no matter how many times sheâd plastered a smile to her face, it hadnât been enough to fully eliminate the stress from winding itself up inside her. Coiled, like a snake or twisted rope, waiting to knock her on her feet or bite her exposed ankles.
She sighed heavily and finally turned, sticking her head out from the bathroom. Her eyes found him, and she couldnât help but smile a little at his relaxed pose. Effortlessly, Eugene had oriented himself to this lifestyle of luxury. If you didnât know his backstory or his roguish ways, it would be very easy to believe he had grown up in a castle. She wishes some of his nonchalance would rub off on her â often, it felt like every barefoot step she took was out of place. Each action she took would be examined and judged by those around her who were more accustomed to this incredibly detailed and organized life. Sometimes, it was enough to make her scream. Other times, like now, it was enough to make her (hauntingly) yearn for the peaceful (though false and sterile, she had to remind herself) solitude of the Tower. That thought was definitely enough to make her scream.
She lingered in the doorway, hands at her sides then clasped in front of her. Then behind her back. Then, finally, pulling her braid in front of her and buried in the blonde tresses.
âI donât know what it is, Eugene,â she said after a moment. âI feel torn right down the middle between wanting to go âbecause of my parents and my duties, not because I necessarily want to go, if that makes any sense â and really really really not wanting to go.â She shrugged, certain she wasnât being clear at all. âDo you ever feel that way? Like you have to make a decision between two important things, two important feelings â and you know that whatever you decide you just have to stick with, no matter what happens after?â
She struggled to find the right words to express herself. âItâs just been a really long week, and I donât want to do anything that would..I donât know. Put me over the edge? But I also really donât want to disappoint anyone. I feel like Iâm swinging on a rope, higher and higher, and Iâm about to jump off, or fall. Or something big is about to happen and I keep waiting and waiting for it, but it just wonât happen â you know what I mean?â
Eugene had lived for so long watching his back, usually wondering where his next meal was coming from or if heâd have enough to eat if he could get anything. It was nice to not worry about those things here, but it was more than that. For the first time he felt safe enough to be Eugene. It was easy to relax when she was around, even when she wasnât in the same room, because he knew he was wanted.Â
A part of him wished he could be all of that for Rapunzel, and more, but she actually had a family. Hers was the sort of story that a young Eugene Fitzherbert would have been jealous over. (Had been, when heâd see her missing posters even as far as his orphanage.)Â
He looked up at her when she poked her head out of the bathroom door and continued to listen. He knew he was a Something Big for her, knew that what she was going through right now had nothing to do with how she felt for him.
He shrugged a shoulder as he kicked up a chair, sending it forward to land on its legs again. âI guess I felt a little like that once. But Iâm not quite sure I realized I was saying goodbye to Flynn at the time.â He wasnât sure if he would have gone back to Flynn if theyâd parted ways, but he wasnât sure if he would have felt safe enough to do otherwise.
He stood from his chair and walked over to the door, scratching his chin. Heâd done that sort of waiting when he was younger, waiting for family in the orphanage, waiting for that feeling with Stalyan, trying to ignore that yearning in the years since and failing horribly to double down on it in a certain tower. âIt took a little over two decades for my something big to finally happen,â he told her with a wink, tucking the hair behind her ear that wasnât currently covered by her braid.
âWhy donât we go? Not to the party, but to...somewhere that isnât here. And after, when weâre back, we can tell everyone I distracted you and made you lose track of time.â He shrugged a shoulder. âSomething tells me they wonât be surprised by that amount of irresponsibility coming from me.â
