Darkest Destiny: A Tangled Story - Chapter 30 - Fanfic_Acolyte_Vanessa (2024)

Chapter Text

Vibrant green eyes cracked open eagerly, and Rapunzel found herself awake; a smile forming upon her lips almost immediately. Today was the day! The first day of many to come when her new lady-in-waiting, Cassandra, would arrive to her bedchambers! The day when a legendary friendship would first be formed!

So naturally, with such a momentous moment in history at hand, she hadn't been able to sleep much the previous night due to practically bristling with anticipation. But that was okay. Nothing could deter her excitement for today, as she was certain that this was going to be the beginning of a new chapter in her life; a new chapter in a book that'd be filled with many more, after a life of being trapped on the first page.

The blankets went flying as she leaped out of her bed. “I proclaim this day henceforth as Cassandra Day!” she yelled, causing her slumbering friend Pascal to jump in alarm. Making up new days and holidays and the like was such fun, and as a Princess, she could do just that. Surely if anyone deserved a day named after themselves, it was Cassandra!

“Ooh, I can't wait to introduce you to her!” she told Pascal exuberantly; the tired chameleon only regarding the girl with one eye half opened, before turning around and going back to sleep with his back facing her.

“Alright, you can sleep in if you want to! But I just know she is gonna love you!” Rapunzel sang, running to her vanity to inspect herself in the mirror. She was still getting used to having short brown locks instead of the river of golden hair that she'd grown accustomed to for eighteen years, but like all of the other unbelievable changes that had swept through her life recently, she welcomed it with open arms. Besides, she'd never noticed just how cumbersome and tedious it had been to have so much hair before until most of it was gone. It was quite liberating to have short hair—shorter than Cassandra's, even!

While she knew that it would ultimately be her new handmaid who would tidy her up and get her ready and presentable for the day ahead, Rapunzel still felt somewhat embarrassed about how utterly unkempt she looked. True, she had just gotten out of bed, and no one looked their best first thing in the morning—not even Princesses! But even so...despite her hair being significantly shorter now, it still somehow managed to look, well...bad. What was the term people used for it? Bedhead?

Whatever it was called, it caused her to self consciously reach up and try to smooth back some of the stubborn locks that refused to fall in line. Before leaving her tower and returning to her home here in Corona, Rapunzel had never even known what a barber was. To be fair, she hadn't known about a lot of things...and she was still learning new information of all kinds every day. Not that a barber would've been particularly helpful back then, as her hair had been unbreakable.

She wasn't sure why she was feeling so self conscious in the first place. Never in her life had she known what it was to be embarrassed or ashamed or inadequate or whatever...but that had been before her life had truly begun; back when she had been alone with only her mother-captor for company. Now, as a Princess, she was expected to present herself as such, everyday, whenever she was out in public and whenever she was indoors. It was honestly pretty stifling, she had to admit...

But that wasn't the reason she was feeling this way. This was something different, something that felt more personal. She wanted to make a good first impression with Cassandra, wanted the older woman to look at her and see someone cool and relatable. For some reason, she found herself anxious that Cassandra would find her to be too prissy or too infantile to talk with on any meaningful level...which was why she had argued very adamantly with her parents that she did not want them present when she met with her lady-in-waiting for the first time, as they had originally planned for her.

It wasn't like she was embarrassed of them—she loved her parents. But holding a meeting where they were all gathered around a table as if it were just some stuffy meeting and she was just some childish girl who needed everyone to talk for her was just...it made her feel awful; both mentally and physically.

No, she did not want this to feel like some kind of interview—whatever the hell that even meant. She would meet Cassandra face to face, woman to woman, and they would bond and become fast friends and make so many memories together, as friends were prone to do. After a life of growing up friendless, of missing out on childhood friendships and forming relationships in those formative years, Rapunzel was eager to make a friend. Not a boyfriend, not a handmaid who was only doing her job, but a real, honest to God friend.

And she just knew that friend would be Cassandra. She had a very good feeling about her, after spending the past few days learning all she could about the aloof warrior.

Perhaps she was a bit TOO eager, and maybe she was deluded and stubborn and foolish to think that she could make friends with what was ultimately what people called a 'commoner', but she didn't care about stations or classes or whatever. Cassandra wasn't royalty like she was, but that hardly mattered to the starry eyed girl, who looked upon her as if she was a dashing knight.

Which she was! The way she moved and handled those weapons, and that look in her eyes—so fierce, so fiery! How mesmerized Rapunzel had been, how spellbound she had felt when witnessing Cassandra's prowess! She was unlike any woman she'd ever seen—and they hadn't even spoken yet! She couldn't wait to learn more about her, to hear her voice, to look into those eyes that had burned with such passion!

Two sharp knocks upon her bedchamber doors snapped Rapunzel out of her reverie—just how much time had passed while she'd been fussing over herself in front of the mirror??

Whirling around, she was halfway to the door before it opened, and she was met with the stunned visage of her lady-in-waiting, who stood frozen in the doorway.

Time seemed to ground to a halt—for the second time—when their eyes met once again since that day when she'd first seen her sparring. And again, those eyes felt so familiar to her, as if she had seen them before, had known them all her life...

“...Y-Your Highness? Are you well?” Cassandra eventually asked tentatively, her brow creased with concern. Unlike before, the swordswoman was wearing the standard blue dress that handmaidens within the castle were issued, her messy bob done up and partly concealed with the headdress. Gone were the striped pants, the rugged boots, the thick gauntlets... Who could've known that such a drastic change in clothes could make such a difference in one's appearance?

She looked so different from the woman in her mind, in fact, that Rapunzel almost couldn't recognize her for a few seconds; the brunette left utterly speechless as she just stared at the taller woman dumbly.

“Princess...?” Cassandra prompted again, taking a cautious step forward.

“Oh! I'm, I'm fine! Really!” Rapunzel assured her with an anxious laugh. “I just...didn't recognize you at first, without your pants—I mean—I didn't mean without ANY pants, just...”

So much for making good first impressions. Now Cassandra was probably going to look at her like she was an invalid and treat her as if she belonged in an asylum!

To her surprise, Cassandra only gave a wry smirk instead of an aghast glare. “...Yeah, I get that a lot, actually,” she chuckled, before pausing and standing up straighter, seemingly remembering that she was in the presence of royalty. “Ahem...I-I mean, I am often seen wearing pants rather than a dress, so any confusion is perfectly understandable, milady.”

“You don't have to call me 'milady', you know,” Rapunzel giggled lightly, but while it was meant to put Cassandra at ease, it seemed to do the opposite, as she looked embarrassed; as though she had just made some foolish mistake.

“Forgive me, Your Highness. It won't happen again,” she said curtly, bowing her head.

Rapunzel frowned, not liking how...stilted their very first interaction was becoming. Cassandra was a confident, strong willed woman, and yet here she was, forced to act like this meek and proper caretaker just because she was a handmaid and she herself was a Princess! Could they ever become friends, when their first meeting was already spiraling into disaster??

“Cass...” she said, trailing off as her expression turned thoughtful. Cass—it sounded nice. Nicknames were something used between friends, she had learned, and it could be a way to make things less...stuffy between them. “Do you mind if I call you that?”

“Huh?” Cassandra blinked, seemingly at a loss; like an actor who could only play out the part given to them and was suddenly thrown off-script. “Call me what?”

“Cass!” Rapunzel chirped, beaming. “It has a nice ring to it, I think. But if you don't like it...”

“I...uh...I don't mind, really. You can call me whatever you like, Princess.”

Rapunzel felt a pout coming on, but managed to maintain a somewhat placid expression as her frustrations mounted. Not that she was frustrated with Cassandra—no, the poor woman had done nothing wrong. She was just exasperated with everyone treating her like...this. Like a Princess. She had hoped that with Cassandra, things could be different. How could she go about making that happen?

“Call me Rapunzel,” she said after a moment, thinking that by using each other's names without any silly titles in the way might help bridge the gap between them.

Cassandra looked like she was about to fall through the floor as she regarded her with a wary expression. “...Is that an order, Princess?” she asked carefully.

“No! It's—I don't—you...” Rapunzel stammered, her attempts at forming a bond that would be written in storybooks and sung by bards floundering with each passing second. “It's not an order. I don't want to order you to do anything you don't want to do.”

The hapless handmaid just looked at her with a lost look in her eyes, as though she was silently pleading for someone to put her out of her misery. “Forgive me, Your Highness, but...I don't...understand,” she told her reluctantly. “This duty given to me by your parents...it is the highest honor, and I mean to serve you to the best of my ability. My life is yours to command, so please...command me.”

Rapunzel shook her head obstinately, not liking what she was hearing at all. “No, no, no—this isn't how it's supposed to work! I can't just 'command' you to be my friend—it has to happen naturally, like in a well paced book!”

“You...want me to be your friend?” Cassandra asked slowly, a brow raised quizzically.

Rapunzel felt what must have been embarrassment smothering her chest—she really needed to learn when to keep her inner thoughts to herself and not shout them out like some lunatic.

“I mean...yeah?” she said with a small shrug. “I saw you out there, from before...and you looked so cool, with your halberd and your short hair and your pants...”

Cassandra's lips quirked into something resembling an amused smirk, but only for a flicker of a second, before she regained her stoic composure.

“I take it Her Highness is unused to seeing women wearing pants?” she inquired.

“Yes...among many other things,” Rapunzel admitted. “Er, other things besides women wearing pants, I mean...not women wearing other things besides pants.”

“I understand, Princess. Your meaning was clear.”

“Why do so few women wear pants? Or is it only a thing here in Corona?”

“That is...a difficult question to answer, I'm afraid. But, no, it is not just a thing in Corona. Many places around the world don't allow women to wear pants.”

“Don't allow...? What do you mean?”

“Well...it's complicated. To put it simply, there are clothes that are more appropriate for men to wear, and clothes more appropriate for women. It is usually seen as indecent for a woman to wear pants as a man would, or for a man to wear a dress, for example.”

“Huh. That sounds...dumb.”

“I concur with Her Highness.”

“But...you wear pants.”

“That I do.”

“Why? Seems like it'd draw a lot of trouble...”

“I suppose I can get away with it more easily than other women because my father is Captain of the Guard. But even if he was merely a poor tailor, I'd still do it anyway. Short answer: because I like wearing 'em.”

“Aren't you afraid of breaking any laws? Since it isn't technically allowed?”

“They haven't caught me yet.”

Rapunzel laughed at how deadpan the older woman was. She had heard the murmurings from people regarding Cassandra and her lack of humor, of how she was cold and heartless and lived only for battle and whatnot, but she was quickly discovering that there was more to her.

“Well, I happen to think you look quite...cool in pants,” she declared. “Do you think I could get away with wearing pants too? Since I'm a Princess, it should be okay, right?”

Any hint of humor drained from Cassandra's face, her expression turning distraught as she bit her lower lip in consternation.

“Er...I don't think it'd be becoming of a Princess to wear pants,” she said carefully. “The King and Queen would likely have my head for giving you such foolish ideas...”

Rapunzel held up her hands placatingly, inwardly scolding herself for her ignorance yet again. How many times would her status get in the way of who she wanted to be, of the people she wanted to form a connection with??

“Please, don't worry about my parents—they know that I am a bit...queer. Or weird. Eccentric? I don't know which word fits me best, but I'm a bit of each, I think. I'm sure they have already told you about some of my more prominent oddities, such as how I don't like wearing shoes?”

Cassandra's eyes darted down to the girl's bare feet, then back up to her eyes, and she nodded. “...Yes, I have been informed of your...special needs, Princess. Forgive me for my trepidation. This is my first day being a lady-in-waiting, and I might need some time to get the hang of it, so to say...”

The taller woman's eyes widened as Rapunzel bridged the gap between them, taking her hands in her own and smiling up at her reassuringly. “I'm still 'getting the hang' of 'Princessing', so we can learn together! And for what it's worth, I think you're doing an amazing job already!”

“I...I only just walked into your room...” Cassandra said, flustered at the sudden close proximity to the excited girl.

“Well, you're a natural! Did my parents order you to not wear pants while serving me? Because you can wear them instead of the dress, if you'd like--”

“Uhm...permission to speak candidly, Your Highness?” Cassandra asked, looking more uncomfortable by the second as she gently but firmly stepped away from her.

Rapunzel blinked, recognizing the word 'candidly', but not quite remembering exactly what it meant. From what she had learned, whenever someone said they wanted to 'speak candidly' to royalty, it was usually nothing good. Suddenly anxious that she had overstepped some boundary—which was unfortunately common, as she was still getting accustomed to, well...people—she gulped, clasping her hands together in front of her chest meekly.

“...Y-yes? You may speak candiedly—I mean candidly!” she yelped, giving a nervous chuckle.

“I would just like to do my job now, if that is acceptable,” Cassandra told her curtly. “And while I do prefer to wear pants to wearing a dress, I do not want any special treatment here in the castle just because I am a lady-in-waiting. So I will continue to wear the standard uniform, same as the other handmaids. Milady.”

“I...” Rapunzel trailed off, feeling her eyes beginning to water from the distress that was currently causing her heart to ache. This was not going at all how she had imagined, and with a terrible realization, she had to consider the awful possibility that while she wanted to be friends with Cassandra, Cassandra might not have wanted to be friends with her.

What a selfish, childish girl she was! Assuming that this woman would be her friend, when she was only here to do her job! Stupid, pathetic, needy, foolish--

“...Of course. I...don't want to hold you up any longer than necessary,” she said at length, keeping her voice steady. She would not cry like some spoiled brat who didn't get her way. “I know you have a busy schedule to keep, what with your training...”

“You know about my training?” Cassandra asked, looking surprised.

“Well, yes...I know a lot about you. Like how you've been training to become a Royal Guard since you were six, and how you're the best warrior in Corona.”

“I wouldn't say that I'm the BEST, but...I'm pretty good, I think.”

The two shared a small smile, and Rapunzel wished she could hold onto that moment forever. Maybe with time—and with a lot of self improvement—she could be worthy of being Cassandra's friend.

For now, though, she would just be a Princess, and let Cassandra be her lady-in-waiting.

She allowed the older woman to gently guide her towards her dressing room, where she went about doing her job. Her hands were strong and callused, unlike her own soft and dainty hands, and yet she was still surprisingly gentle.

Helping her out of her nightdress and into the bathtub, Cassandra went about washing her, the only sound in the room being the rhythmic sloshing of the water and the soft scrubby brush against her naked skin. It felt...nice, she had to admit, but didn't want to further embarrass herself by vocally telling her that she was the best...scrubber? Bath aide? Whatever it was called.

The silence was becoming decidedly uncomfortable, however, and after being bathed and standing up straight to be dried and dressed, she was about to say something that was probably stupid or random or annoying. To her surprise, it was Cassandra who spoke up first.

“Princess, about earlier...” she started, her voice uncharacteristically soft. “I am flattered that you deigned to learn about me, and while my training is important, I just want you to know that it comes second to you, now. This business of being your lady-in-waiting might require a gentler touch than I am used to, and I might stumble at first, but... I promise that I am a quick study. You are my first priority, and I mean that.”

Rapunzel wasn't sure how to respond to that right away. Unlike everyone else she had met, Cassandra was so serious, so...intense. Even though she had spent her life training for the singular goal of becoming a Royal Guard, she was now claiming that that was less important than her duty as her lady-in-waiting...and while they had just met face to face this morning, Rapunzel believed her.

Cassandra wasn't just saying that to sound professional or cool: she meant it, and was completely serious about proving as much. This woman was honest and brave and strong and...and...

And hearing her say that just made Rapunzel want to be her friend even more. In spite of her earlier revelations that it would be best to keep things strictly as business, in spite of fearing that her yearning for friendship would ultimately go unrequited, she just couldn't help but be drawn to the woman.

“I want you to do what you love,” she said at last. “I wouldn't be able to forgive myself if I got in the way of your goals or dreams. You work so hard...you shouldn't have to be saddled with me just because my father--”

“Our fathers, you mean,” Cassandra said with a wry smirk that Rapunzel just caught in the reflection of the mirror; the warrior-handmaid standing directly behind her as she went about fitting her in the dress she'd wear for the day. “My father was the one who put in a good word for me to your parents. I admit, I was...bothered that he did not think to ask me what I wanted before doing so, but honestly, this is no bad thing. It is a privilege that many others would envy. I do not consider myself 'saddled' with you, as you put it. So please, perish those kinds of thoughts, Princess.”

Her words made Rapunzel feel a bit better, and as she felt Cassandra's callused hands gently but firmly hitch up the back of her dress, yet another question bubbled up from her mind, and before she could stop and think about it, she found herself asking it aloud.

“You've been a handmaid for longer than I've been here in Corona, haven't you?”

Cassandra paused, then nodded, continuing to adjust the young royal's sleeves accordingly. “Yes, Your Highness. I have. Why do you ask?”

“It's just...surprising, is all. I didn't really imagine you doing that kind of work—not that there's anything wrong with it! You're really good at handmaid stuff. I guess I just...er...” Oh, God, she was babbling again. What an insensitive thing to blurt out! Cassandra was probably offended that she would insinuate that the work she was doing was beneath her, or something equally bad.

But Cassandra just snorted, shaking her head. “I suppose after seeing me out there from before, fighting off multiple men with a halberd, it would indeed come as a surprise to learn that I also do 'handmaid stuff'',” she chuckled. “It was a sort of deal that I had to make with my father. You see, he wasn't quite comfortable with me partaking in such masculine activities all the time, what with the physical training and the sparring and the hunting and whatnot. So, he told me that if I wanted to continue with my training to become a Royal Guard, that I had to take up a more 'traditionally feminine' role, and I've been a part time handmaid ever since.”

Rapunzel frowned. “Oh...that sounds unfair,” she said after a moment. “Why does it matter how masculine or feminine something is? I'm still trying to figure out the differences, myself, as I never really learned about that kind of stuff growing up...”

“Sometimes life tends to be unfair,” Cassandra said nonchalantly, before continuing in a somewhat embarrassed tone, “...not that I need to tell you of all people that. I know you spent all those years in a tower...I can't imagine much else being any less fair than that.”

She walked around to stand in front of the Princess, taking a brush to her short brown locks that had been so stubbornly obstinate in the way they refused to smooth down earlier that morning. “As for your question...well, all I can really tell you is that it goes back to what we discussed before about societies and cultures and their expectations. Fret not, milady—you are not alone in being confused by such concepts. I'm still trying to comprehend much of them myself.”

“Well, for what it's worth, I think you're amazing at both,” Rapunzel told her bluntly, even though she was sure the older woman was tired of hearing her praising her so often. “Truth be told, I was worried that our first encounter together would end up worse than when I first met Eugene...”

“Oh?” Cassandra raised a brow, seemingly curious. “And might I ask how that went down? I've heard the official story, of course, but those kinds of details—the details only you would be knowledgeable of—are still elusive.”

Rapunzel smiled almost bashfully as she recalled that then-terrifying moment from that fateful day. “Ah, I...well, I sort of...smashed his head with a frying pan.”

Cassandra's face broke out into a highly amused grin at hearing that. “You didn't!” she exclaimed.

“I did!” Rapunzel giggled—it might have been a scary moment at the time, but in hindsight, she had to admit that it was quite the absurd scenario. “I even tied him up with my hair while he was still unconscious so that I could question him when he woke up. That was when I still had my magic hair, you see, and...”

The rest of the morning was spent talking about all manner of things, from Eugene getting bonked in the face and injured in various other ways, to introducing Pascal to Cassandra, who seemed to genuinely be an animal person at heart, and all the other matters that flitted into her mind from one moment into the next. While she was the one who did most of the talking, Cassandra listened to her patiently, never judging or ignoring her, and even giving the occasional quip or snarky remark here and there.

Days passed, then weeks, and though she tried her best to reign in her innermost desires, Rapunzel was thrilled to see Cassandra slowly but surely opening up to her. Maybe they would never be best friends—maybe they would only ever be acquaintances who only knew each other through the circ*mstances of their respective lot in life.

Either way, she was happy; happier than she could ever remember being in all her days. She had Eugene, she had her parents, she had a whole new world to explore and learn about without fear of reprisal from the likes of Gothel.

That didn't mean that she would stop trying to grow closer to Cassandra, however. If there was one thing that she knew to be true, it was that in both reality and storybooks alike, the power of friendship was absolute, and could overcome anything.

So surely, if she just kept it up, Cassandra would one day call her her friend, and they would spend the rest of their lives together here in Corona, where the sun always seemed to shine...

–

Bleary green eyes cracked open reluctantly, and Rapunzel found herself awake once again.

A quick glance at her surroundings informed her that the most recent chapter of her life had not been a nightmare, but reality; despite her room having been one of the few things to remain unchanged in Cassandra's dramatic overhaul of the castle that had once been her home. The plush rugs remained on the wooden floor, the walls remained decorated with her paintings and shelves filled with books and other odds and ends, and her bed remained as soft and comfy as ever. Not that even that could help her get a good night's sleep anymore...

In the time since the eclipse, after Cassandra had taken the Ultimate Power and caused many people to flee Corona in a mass exodus, Rapunzel had managed to pretend for a few moments each day, right when she woke up, that everything was still normal. For just a few moments, when her mind was still not fully awake and was half numb with the remnants of sleep, she could imagine life as it had been not so long ago. She'd get out of bed, and Cass would come in and help her prepare for the day. They'd talk about anything and everything—well, mostly it'd be her talking, while Cass just listened and occasionally gave a grunt or a nod or some witty sarcastic line that always made her laugh.

Then she would be off to eat breakfast with her parents. Mother would smile and entertain all of her silly chatter, while Father would sternly remind her of her duties as a Princess.

She loved them, truly, she did, but she never really listened to them. Not when it came to matters of Princess-ing. If she had, then she never would have kept in touch with Eugene, and would have just treated him as another man-servant. She never would have been his girlfriend, or thought about what life would be like as his wife...someday.

She missed him. She missed Cass, too, as strange as that might've sounded, considering that the woman was currently her captor. Perhaps it would have been more appropriate to say that she missed the person that Cass used to be; the person who was still there, deep beneath a dark ocean of anger and hate.

...And just like that, the moment had evaporated, and she was once again fully aware of her current predicament. It felt like each morning, she spent less and less time in that place between sleep and consciousness. She wondered how long it would be until she lost even that.

There were other ways to tell that she was back in the waking world, of course. Her hair, while blonde, was no longer imbued with the magic of the Sundrop, and she could feel the difference without even looking at her golden locks that she was no longer gifted with its rejuvenating radiance. Nor did she have to look into the mirror to know that she currently had bags under her eyes that were growing dark enough to become noticeable.

Her neck and collarbone were also littered with reddened marks left by Cassandra's hungry mouth. Rapunzel hadn't seen much of her soon to be 'wife' over the past week now, ever since the usurper had announced the coronation wedding to the kingdom. Much to her surprise, Cass had let her roam the castle unattended, letting her spend time with Catalina and some of the other people who'd remained in Corona.

It was quite strange, considering how possessive she had proven to be, and she suspected that the older woman was keeping things from her by keeping her in the dark. The Archdeacon, Royce, for example, had abruptly agreed to both anoint Cassandra and wed them. She didn't want to believe that her best friend would threaten him into doing that against his will, but then, she wouldn't have been surprised if she had.

Sometimes, though, Cass would come out of nowhere and spend anywhere from between a few minutes, to half an hour, kissing her and touching her and making her feel both so good and so very, very bad. She hated how weak she was, how she liked the feel of her lips, of her tongue entering her mouth, of her strong hands fondling her unabashedly. Each time they met, there was this heat between them that grew hotter and hotter to an almost feverish pitch, but every time, as abruptly as she arrived, Cass would leave her—often as a panting, quivering mess that felt so oddly frustrated, as though it wasn't enough...as though she wanted more.

She didn't want to want more. But her body seemed to betray her each time Cass pulled her close to cover her mouth with hers, or to nibble on her neck, or even to suckle at her bosom.

Oh, god, how she had gasped; how wonderfully sensitive and warm she'd felt when--

Rapunzel groaned, rolling over onto her back fitfully and staring up at the ceiling with a moody sigh. This was not the sort of thing she should've been thinking about—not now, not ever!

Yet at the same time, all the other things that there were to think about were a lot less appealing. The state of Corona, the way Eugene and her family were out there living as fugitives, and her own precarious situation as Cassandra's captive weighed heavily on her mind. It was all taking its toll on her, both physically and mentally, what with the lack of sleep, her unable to eat much of anything anymore without feeling nauseous afterward, and having panic attacks whenever she attempted to try and think of a way out of this f*cking mess that didn't involve anyone's death.

And then, of course, there was the fact that she was getting married. Tomorrow. To Cassandra, her best friend and captor; who she loved, and feared, and at once wanted to be closer and to run far away from.

The previous Cass-induced warmth that she felt in her loins faded, and she was left feeling the cold dread of inevitability. It welled up in her chest, constricting around her heart and pressing against her lungs, making her feel like she couldn't breathe.

Marriage—something she had been putting off for a long time now with Eugene, who she loved and wanted to be with, and was now being forced into with Cassandra, who she also loved and wanted to be with, but had never thought of in that context. Until recently, that is, and ever since she had the revelation that she was also in love with her lady-in-waiting, she couldn't help but wonder how long she might have had these feelings.

Within a day after leaving her tower and experiencing the world for the first time in her life, she had fallen in love with Eugene. But in the time she had spent in Corona with Cass, who she had always admired from the moment their eyes first met... Had there always been something there, something that she was just too blind and naive to have noticed? If she had ultimately chosen Cassandra to be her consort, would her parents—or the world in general—have allowed them to be in such a union?

As much as she still tried to see the world in the best light, Rapunzel knew that the answer would've been a resounding 'no'. Under normal circ*mstances, with a Cass who did not command the Ultimate Power, there was no way they would have been able to marry...or to even be together in that way, apparently.

Even after these past two years since being freed from her isolated tower, this world still managed to confuse her greatly with its seemingly arbitrary prejudices. People who were different were often shunned, or worse, brutalized and even killed. Upon reading the books of her studies, of learning history and how things were in other places far away from her home, she had desperately tried to understand, to make some sense of it all.

But she couldn't. The things she had gleaned from her schooling had unsettled her—and she knew that that had only been the tip of the iceberg, so to say. There was still so, so much more to learn, so many more terrible and unspeakable things that she wasn't sure she could handle. Ignoring the problems had been a reflexive way for her to cope with the fact that the world Gothel had so often fear mongered to her about was not so far fetched, and was closer to the truth than it was a lie.

She wished it was just another falsehood, another trick that Gothel had used to keep her from leaving the tower. But it seemed the old witch's words had rung true—it was indeed a dark and cruel world, and was no place for such a delicate little flower like herself.

Rapunzel knew she was stronger than that, though. She reminded herself everyday that she wasn't dependent on anyone, nor was she anyone's prisoner—present circ*mstances excluded. What mattered was that she was free; free to make up her own mind, to make her own decisions, to make her own destiny.

She tried to keep telling herself that, but it was becoming increasingly difficult, as the wedding loomed closer and closer like some invisible specter above her head. The young Princess did not know much about marriage, aside from the fact that people who loved each other got married. That part wasn't so bad, but it was the other part—the part that came after the wedding—that made her despair.

For in her naive, poorly educated mind, marriage meant that you were ready to have children...and Rapunzel was most certainly not ready to have children. She still wasn't even sure exactly how children were made, but she knew that married people were the ones who were always expected to have them.

Could two women even have children together? She couldn't see why not...though that was again because of her own woeful ignorance on the matter. Cassandra had never spoken to her once about wanting to have children—well, not in a positive light, that is. Her cherished handmaid had mentioned that she would remain childless and 'celibate' for all her days. Rapunzel didn't know what celibate meant, but it sounded serious—just like with most things Cass spoke about.

But Cass had changed so much—could it be possible that in her twisted and warped state of mind, she would suddenly expect her to have children? And how many would she demand from her? She knew about pregnancy, if only the simple and evident part about the baby growing inside of a woman's belly until it was...ready to come out. That part was supposedly quite painful—the worst pain a woman could go through in her life, by most accounts.

One of the most painful memories she'd had was when she'd stubbed her toe while running recklessly up some stone steps outside the castle. How she had howled in agony! How she'd nearly cried from the sudden jolt of excruciating pain! And apparently that was nothing compared to the act of childbirth, which was not just a few minutes of unpleasantness, but could last for hours! Some women even died from giving birth, or even when just carrying a baby! Her own mother had nearly died while carrying her, and if not for the power of the Sundrop, both she and her mother would have perished!

Rapunzel sat up sharply—perhaps too quickly, as her head felt wobbly for a moment after she did so. She wasn't going to get anymore sleep; not with so many intrusive and uncomfortable thoughts assaulting her like a typhoon. Her bed had once felt so comfy and safe, but it was becoming increasingly stifling and made her feel restless the more time went by, as all she could do was lie there and be alone with her thoughts.

It was so strange—she had never been one to ponder too deeply about these kinds of things. Worldly affairs and worldly injustices, people's prejudices, and her own sexuality that she had never really stopped to think about... All of it weighed heavily upon her narrow shoulders, on top of the ongoing crisis of Cassandra's takeover and how she couldn't do anything to stop it.

She wasn't used to thinking about such heavy topics, having always preferred a carefree and whimsical way of living. Singing, dancing, painting, laughing...these were what she was more familiar with, what made up her core essence as a person. In spite of Gothel robbing her of her first eighteen years, life was still wonderful, and there were still things to be happy about and look forward to. Everything had worked out, and she'd gotten her happily ever after.

But what about all those who hadn't, or couldn't, obtain their own? She was a Princess, a person who was literally ordained by God to rule over the common folk, and while she was never quite comfortable with that definition, she still felt like it was her duty to help others. Even if there was a part of her that still felt far too overwhelmed and hopelessly lost to be in such a position of power...

She was more used to being Rapunzel the flower child, rather than Rapunzel the Princess, and she didn't know if the two could ever coexist with each other. After all, it had been Rapunzel the Princess who had driven her dearest friend Cassandra to the depths of despair, anger and loneliness that she was now trapped in. Because she started treating her like a subject instead of a friend. Because she hadn't understood or respected the vast differences in the power dynamic between a Princess and a handmaiden.

She hated being a Princess. She hated being perceived as someone who was superior, who was just naturally born to rule, who was chosen as part of some sort of divine plan that could not be questioned.

Deep down—or maybe not so deep down—she didn't want that kind of responsibility. She just wanted to play games and have fun.

Did that make her selfish? Did that mean she was small minded, shallow or stupid? Truth be told, she wasn't sure. For so many years of her life, her world had been so much more confined compared to the world outside of her tower. There hadn't been any issues that could be compared to the magnitude of the problems that so many people faced everywhere. She had never known what it was to experience extreme poverty, or discrimination, or enslavement, or any of the other awful things she had read about.

That being said, it wasn't like she didn't want to help others. She'd helped a few people in her time in Corona, and even beyond the kingdom's boarders, when she'd traveled across the land to stop the black rocks from spreading. Helping to prove Attila's innocence when he'd been wrongfully accused for a crime he didn't commit...helping Vex and sheriff Quaid run the Baron out of Vardaros...helping Varian come to his senses and thwarting the Saporian's plot to destroy Corona...

There were many other examples too, of course, and ultimately, she loved helping people. The problem came in the form of making decisions that would affect many people's lives, to the point where she could never hope to even see each person on an individual level, but rather as just a faceless number. A statistic. A means to gauge how her leadership was doing by how many people were happy versus how many people were unhappy. Not to mention the whole aforementioned 'divine right to rule' thing that came with being a Princess.

She would have loved to talk all of her issues out with someone, but even before becoming Cassandra's captive bride and before Corona had fallen, she doubted that this line of thinking would have been received very well. Father would have shut it down immediately with a stern lecture about how important the crown was and that they were simply destined to stand above everyone else, while Mother would have gently told her that she would understand someday and that she would 'grow into it'. Both would have had their own ways of telling her, but both would've ended with the same result: she had to accept that she was a Princess.

Eugene probably would have supported her in whatever she wanted to do, though. And, once upon a time, she knew Cass would have, too.

This was all moot, of course, as now in the present, she had no one to talk to, about anything. She'd barely seen Cassandra in the days since she'd announced the coronation wedding, and whenever the usurper did decide to visit her, there was hardly any talking involved; each encounter with her fallen friend devolving into a clumsy, heated fit of kissing and touching that would end as abruptly as it started. And by the time her head had become clear again from the dizzying effect of feeling Cassandra's strong hands on her curves and feeling Cassandra's treacherous tongue invading her mouth, the corrupted woman would give her a hasty goodbye or some lame excuse as to why she had to go before jumping out of her window or retreating out of her bedroom door.

It was frustrating, to say the least. She could have sworn she was avoiding her, but that was a ridiculous idea, given the events of the past couple weeks or so.

She had been spending a lot of time with Catalina, who was still living in the castle, but that just wasn't an option. As much as she wanted to talk to someone—anyone—who would listen, even the melancholy Princess was socially aware enough to know that dumping all of your woes and fears and traumas onto a child was a bad thing to do. Especially when said child was going through her own personal trials and tribulations.

No one else around the castle wanted anything to do with her; too afraid of the possibility that by consorting with her for more than a moment, it might bring about the usurper, who everyone did their best to avoid.

So she was alone. Alone with all of this stress and despair, conflict and anguish, confusion and frustration. Pascal was still there for her, thankfully, but even she was forced to admit that talking with a lizard could only help so much.

Sometimes, though, in the middle of the night, when she woke up and was in between the waking world and slumber...she could have sworn that someone was there by her bedside, watching her with glowing eyes and running a hand through her hair covetously. Rapunzel never tried speaking out to the shadowy figure that she knew was Cassandra, as she was always in that sort of paralyzed state that came with being barely awake, and if Cassandra ever suspected that she was not asleep, she never tried saying anything, either.

There was no way of knowing exactly how long she would remain sitting there on some nights—mere minutes, perhaps, or maybe hours. But each morning, just like this one, Rapunzel awakened to an empty bedroom.

She threw aside her blanket and rolled out of bed, giving a cranky sounding huff as she did so. It was still quite early—earlier than she was used to getting up, but she didn't care. She was restless, and she needed to walk; it mattered not where, just so long as she wasn't confined to this damned room.

Fortunately, Cass had kept her word from before, leaving her bedchamber doors free of black rocks so that she could come and go as she pleased. Although she was still forbidden from leaving the castle unattended, she counted it as a small victory. Bit by bit, she would win more such victories, until everything was set right and she had Cass back to her old self.

Was that wishful thinking? Probably. But then, she'd never gotten anywhere in her life without being a wishful dreamer, and this was not the time or place to stop dreaming for a better future. On the contrary, she needed as much optimism as she could get her dainty little hands on if she wanted to get through this ordeal with her sanity intact.

Reaching for the door handle, Rapunzel froze as she remembered something important—a vital little detail that she'd forgotten in her haste to leave. She was still wearing naught but her nightdress, and her hair was a mess of tangles and knots. Despite her current ill tempered state, she couldn't go out there looking like...this. People were already worried about her, giving her pitying looks and whispering about how they were praying for her soul and whatnot. Everyone either felt sorry for her, or had it in their heads that she too was corrupted, or 'in on it'.

Apparently this whole hom*osexual marriage thing was a big deal for a lot of folk who weren't even the ones going through with said hom*osexual marriage. In fact, many seemed angry and aghast about it being hom*osexual more so than it being forced and against her will; her previous compromises and concessions with Cass be damned. She wasn't sure exactly what that said about people's priorities, but she felt that it wasn't anything good.

Needless to say, she did not want to give them anything else to gossip about by sauntering around the castle wearing nothing but her nightie...even though the thought of Cassandra's outraged reaction to seeing her out and about while being half naked would've almost made it worth it. Almost.

And then there was the not so small matter of her hair, which always took forever to get sorted out each morning. Cass hadn't been around to do her old handmaid duties, what with being the self proclaimed Queen of New Corona now, and so she had commanded another handmaid—Friedborg—to tend to her each morning.

It made sense, in a way, as to why Cass would entrust her precious fiance's care to Friedborg of all people. The woman was a bit of an outcast among her peers and Corona in general, bearing a somewhat disfigured face, an unsettling and unblinking stare, and was, so far as she knew, a mute.

Funnily enough, Rapunzel had once mistaken Friedborg for Cassandra, long ago. From behind, that is. There was no way she would ever confuse the two women's faces for the other's, as Cass had a very intense and handsome visage that she had always found to be so intriguing from the moment they first met.

Those expressive eyes that were so often called cold or cruel... Those lips that could quirk up into an endearing little smirk as quickly as they could twist into a sneer or an indignant scowl... Oh, the way she had used to just gaze upon her in awe, as though she couldn't believe such a woman could exist--

She sighed. Despite everything that had happened or was happening or was yet to happen, she could not deny how stupidly infatuated she was with her former lady-in-waiting.

From what she had gathered, Friedborg had been her mother's lady-in-waiting, back in the day. Aunt Willow had also mentioned how she and Friedborg had used to 'get into a lot of trouble' in their youth, partying and running wild about the city past curfew hour. It was as funny as it was unbelievable to think of the silent woman in such a light, but then, she remembered her own past experiences with Cassandra; sneaking out at night, riding out into the wilderness on horseback, wandering through the woods while holding her hand...

Not very Princess-like, to be sure, but then maybe there was something to be said about the unique relationship between a Princess and her lady-in-waiting.

She didn't want to wait for Friedborg to come to her room—it was still so early, and it'd be another couple hours until the day would 'officially' begin. Not wanting to bother the poor woman by showing up unannounced and demanding her to immediately make her look presentable, Rapunzel decided to take matters into her own hands and set out to both clean and dress herself. Which was also not very Princess-like, as royalty had servants and the like to do such menial tasks for them.

It was something she'd never thought about much, if she were being honest. Princesses went through life with everything handed to them on silver platters and feather pillows, never having to lift a finger to do anything remotely strenuous, or that which was referred to as 'the commoner's lot in life'. And while Rapunzel was certainly not like your average Princess, she still shared in all the benefits and privileges the same as any other blue blooded girl her age.

The more she thought about it, the more she felt almost...infantilized, in a way. Having someone come into your room to dress you each day, to bathe you and serve your meals and wait on you hand and foot... It was just another thing she'd taken for granted in her time in Corona, after the whirlwind of excitement at having gained her freedom and finding her parents and her new life had settled in.

Many people did not have the same luxuries as she did. Friedborg didn't have anyone to help her out each morning, or to serve her every whim, or be there for her on beck and call night and day.

And neither had Cassandra, who had juggled a busy life being her lady-in-waiting, a handmaiden, a hunter, and a Royal Guard in training. Not to mention the best friend a girl could ever ask for!

She didn't like this feeling that these thoughts evoked within her, that she was just a stupid, spoiled, privileged brat who couldn't comprehend the world around her because she was just that disconnected from the common folk who had real, substantial issues. Her own current predicament not withstanding, there were people suffering out there, people who would never know any kind of happily ever after, while she wallowed in her own insignificant problems.

Focusing on her inner turmoil, she used her frustrations to fuel her movements as she rigidly and harshly did her hair up in a haphazard display that showed well that she was unused to caring for herself. Before assigning Friedborg to take the role of her lady-in-waiting, Cassandra had laughed at her after seeing the ridiculous state she had been in, what with her big hat and drab appearance. It was likely what prompted her to assign Friedborg to her in the first place, as she knew better than anyone that as a hapless Princess, she needed someone to tend to her upkeep.

Sometimes she really hated Cass. She could be so cruel and do such horrible things. But she, too, knew the woman better than anyone, thus she knew that there was more to her. Even if those things might be really hard to see at times amid the encroaching darkness that now perpetually hung around her.

Dressing herself was easier than dealing with all of her hair, at least, though the dress she picked out was rather rumpled and wrinkly compared to what the usual standard was. Probably because things had been so chaotic lately, what with Cass taking over the kingdom and driving half of Corona to flee altogether. And if some people hadn't fled on the night of the eclipse, then they finally chose to pack up shop and leave at the news of a hom*osexual wedding being imminent. At this rate, she wondered if Cass would have anyone left to rule over...even though she knew it was only a matter of time before she made herself known to the rest of the world and became everyone's problem.

Looking herself over once more in the mirror, Rapunzel decided that she looked...not good, but more presentable than she had when she'd gotten out of bed. So that was something.

More importantly, it was acceptable enough for her to finally leave her room without feeling too self conscious about the fact that she looked like a crazy person rather than a well groomed and well dressed Princess.

Right, then. No more thinking about...everything, at least for now. It was time for breakfast, and although she wasn't exactly hungry, she knew she needed to eat, if only a little. Hopefully the kitchens were open by now, and hopefully Cass hadn't scared anyone else out of Corona who could actually cook.

“Let's see what today throws our way, Pascal,” she murmured, attempting to sound more like her old optimistic bright eyed self instead of the hopeless girl who was spiraling into despair that she was becoming more and more each day.

She scribbled a quick note and left it on the door for when Friedborg would eventually come to her bedchambers, detailing how she was sorry for leaving unannounced and that she could take the day off. Honestly, she was tempted to write that she would no longer require her services indefinitely, but she didn't want to get the poor woman into any trouble on her behalf, as she knew Cass would not take too kindly to her abandoning her designated post.

Still, Rapunzel felt that she was done relying on others for taking care of her, especially in these trying times when people had enough on their plates already without having to deal with some dainty Princess. She would just have to get better at doing things herself, something that she was all too willing to do in light of her recent revelations. And if Cass had a problem with that, then she could just...just...

Best not to finish that thought. Cass might have descended into vulgar language and mean spirited quips, but that didn't mean she had to follow suit.

The black rock floors of the remade castle were quite cold on her bare feet—something she wasn't sure she would ever get used to. Perhaps she could convince Cass to bring in some rugs, or some carpeting of some sort, anything other than these god damned black rocks. How she missed the former colors, the bright and sunny aesthetics of the home she had gotten to know over the past few years! Cass might not have ever been very good with what was fashionable even back when she wasn't a corrupted deity—and, truth be told, neither was she, but this was just ridiculous! Everything was pitch black and dreary blue! So drab! So depressing!

Some nice flowers would help liven things up, as well as some paintings, but ultimately, nothing would truly help bring back the shine to Corona other than removing the black rocks entirely, and so long as Cass was around, that would never come to pass.

Of course, aesthetics were the least of Corona's problems right now, she reminded herself. She would have to make sure that every decision that Cass made swung in the right direction—in other words, she had to make sure that Cass did what was best for the people and did not give in to her terrible temper. The wedding was something that she had agreed to in their 'terms', and was one of the compromises that she had to make to appease Cassandra's sudden and desperate plea for her heart.

Or maybe it was more of a concession. Either way, whatever you wanted to call it, it would ensure that she at least had some means of directing the dark Queen down a path that did not include mass bloodshed and chaos.

She told herself this, but Rapunzel couldn't help but feel like she was being shut out and left in the dark. Cassandra was purposefully keeping her away from important matters, likely to avoid any arguments that would inevitably boil between them when it was revealed that she was not making very sound decisions. Instead of confiding in her, the woman who was literally being forced into being her wife tomorrow, Cass would rather speak with that oily, ridiculous man who--

Rapunzel froze, hearing the sound of footsteps down the next corridor. Quickly and quietly, she darted back a few steps, peeking around the corner to spy on whoever might be up and about at this time.

And speak of the devil, it was the aforementioned man that had wormed his way into Cassandra's ear: Pontius.

Her eyes narrowed suspiciously, even though he was simply walking down the hall and not doing anything remotely conspicuous or nefarious. Like Cass, Pontius had been absent for much of the past week as well, perhaps even more so. Just what was he up to now, she wondered? Whatever it was, she knew with certainty that it was nothing good. He was a bad guy, after all...but then, so was Cass, technically; the only difference being that she had known the woman before her fall into villainy. In contrast, she hardly knew Pontius at all, and had trouble imagining him ever being anything other than a gaudy fop with a silver tongue.

Funnily enough, what she did know of him was his greatest passion, and the one thing that they had in common: their love of the arts. It was strange to Rapunzel when she really thought about it, as under different circ*mstances, she couldn't help but think that he would have made for a good friend. They should have been friends, all things considered—both of them were considered weird, they both loved stories and art and had a sort of idealistic view of the world.

How odd, then, that they would differ so drastically when it came to how they each went about their lives. It was rather frustrating to think that someone like Pontius shared any of her interests, as she could not comprehend that you could dislike someone who liked many of the same things as you did, but at the same time that person was someone who you detested. It seemed she still had much to learn about the complexities of societal relations, for it made her head hurt to try and wrap her head around to concept of two incredibly contrasting people liking much the same things.

Or, more disturbingly, there was the possibility that they were not so unalike as she wanted to believe. Which was utterly ridiculous, of course, since she hated lying, while Pontius seemed to be wrapped in them; a man seemingly comprised of a multitude of lies dressed up in a suit and hat.

Perhaps the main difference between them was that while she had lived cut off from the entire world and its troubles for the first eighteen years of her life, Pontius had grown into it. What kind of person might she have turned out to be, had Gothel never abducted her as an infant that fateful night so long ago? She'd have grown up as a Princess, being pampered and having the knowledge that she was above everyone else instilled in her from day one.

Though this was hardly the first time she had asked herself this question, Rapunzel couldn't help but wonder now if she might have turned out more like the man who was now Cassandra's Royal Adviser; someone who would get what they wanted by any means while wearing a smile on their face. She certainly wouldn't have been ignorant or naive as she was now, had she grown up in Corona instead of Gothel's isolated tower. Chances were she would've been more knowledgeable about the world around her, and would've done...what, exactly? She honestly didn't know.

She wanted to believe she would be much the same as she was now and spend most of her time painting or singing or going on adventures, but that was a childish belief. Change merely one thing in a person's life, and that person would not be the same as they would otherwise. Change a great many things, and...well, the changes would be even more numerous and drastic. She was who she was today because of the unique events that had shaped her, and in spite of the lasting scars and traumas and 'what if's' that plagued her, she knew she wouldn't change it, for to do so would be to change everything.

That being said, she at least wanted to believe that growing up as a blue blood from the start wouldn't have made her more closely resemble someone like Pontius of all people!

Putting that unsettling hypothetical aside for the time being, Rapunzel decided on a whim to follow him. She could freely admit that not wearing shoes came with a plethora of disadvantages, such as getting your feet all dirty or cutting them upon sharp stones or broken glass.

But one advantage it did provide in such scenarios like this was the ability to walk on the smooth glassy black rock floors without so much as making a sound.

Sneaking had never been her strong suit, and she simply wasn't possessed of the thief like skills or movements of Eugene. The closest she'd really come to avoiding the detection of others like some slinking rogue was when she'd sneaked out of the castle on some nights with Cassandra, who was quite good at it herself in spite of always talking down on the 'cloak and dagger' life style of Eugene's former life as Flynn Rider. She herself might not have ever been great at moving about undetected, but she had to admit it could be quite thrilling...except for the part of getting caught, of course.

Pontius was walking at a rather leisurely pace, not seeming to be in any real rush to be anywhere, even though his being up and awake at this hour suggested the contrary. He whistled a tune that sounded somewhat familiar to her, though she could not quite place it; which wasn't all that uncommon, as she was still learning about a great many songs and symphonies and the like to this day and could hardly keep track of all the ones she'd heard thus far. Never could she have ever imagined that the outside world could be filled with so much music!

It struck her once more how odd it was that someone so seemingly carefree could be a part of something as nefarious as a secret organization that operated from the shadows. He both looked and acted more like the type of man who you'd expect to see in a circus, or in some stage play at a theater. How could someone so whimsical be involved in a life of crime and evil? Although to be fair, it wasn't as if she knew him or his history, so maybe he wasn't all that bad...

Oh, what was she thinking?? He was clearly manipulating Cass—or if not outright manipulating, then definitely giving her the wrong kind of 'advisem*nt' that was leading her down a dark path. Okay, down a darker path, since even she could not pretend that the woman who had been her best friend had made some incredibly dark choices ever since the day they'd arrived at the Dark Kingdom.

So much darkness. And yet, Pontius seemed oblivious to it. Was this really the sort of world he and his ilk wanted? Cass was obviously out of her mind via the Moonstone's corruption, but what was Pontius's excuse, then? Was he simply just another madman who thought that the ends justify the means? Or did he not fully understand the ramifications of what a world ruled by a twisted Cass would entail?

She was so focused on trying to figure him out, that she nearly didn't notice when he stopped walking. Rapunzel froze mid-step, holding her breath as she stared at his back unblinkingly.

Come to think of it, his back looked strangely familiar to her, now that she thought about it...where had she--

“...Really, now, Henrietta—sneaking up on me, your dear old leader?” Pontius asked jovially. “You haven't tried pulling such a juvenile trick like this since you were just a...”

He trailed off as he turned around, his expression turning to one of surprise as his eyes came to rest on not Henrietta—whoever that was—but on Rapunzel, who most definitely wasn't supposed to be up and about yet.

“Ah! Your Highness! You gave me quite a fright...” Pontius said quickly, giving a short bow. “Pray tell, what brings you out here at this hour? Are you unwell?”

It was a stupid question. 'Of course I'm unwell, you infuriating fop! I'm being forced to marry Cassandra tomorrow!' she wanted to yell, but refrained from doing so. Instead, she kept her cool, though she still couldn't help her tone coming off as irritated.

“I'm just peachy. What are you doing out here at this hour?”

It was an admittedly childish response, as well as a far cry from her usual cheery self, but given the current circ*mstances being anything but the 'usual', she decided that she could make an exception and be just a tad bit cantankerous. Now there was a word that she didn't get to use much. Maybe it would be the right word that would suit her best in these strange times, as she could no longer be considered happy go lucky. Not without lying, at least.

Pontius looked her over for a moment before smiling his annoying smile. “If you must know, I was just on my way to get a bite to eat before attending a meeting with my comrades. Are you sure you are well, Princess? You look a bit...disheveled.”

The way he talked, so polite, so formal, yet all at once casual, also stirred some long dormant memory that was on the tip of her tongue. Had she met this man in the past at some point? She was certain she would have remembered such a colorful character, and she had always made sure to write—and paint—about all the notable people and experiences that came her way.

That night when Cass had stuck him with her in her room to help her sort out everyone's reparations...he had spoken in such lofty terms, but most notably, she could remember how he had frequently quoted and referenced a particular storybook. A particular character...

And then it clicked.

“I'm as fine as anyone in my situation could be, Pontius,” she reiterated flatly, before adding, “...or should I call you 'Pendragon'?”

His brows rose with something between surprise and amusem*nt, and Pontius gave a tip of his hat towards her, seemingly in the know about what she was referring to.

“...I was wondering if and when you might recall our 'unofficial' first meeting,” he murmured after a few heartbeats, his expression turning thoughtful. “Seems like a lifetime ago, doesn't it? You were still so overwhelmed by everything, only being back in the place of your birth for a couple weeks at best; and yet even then, you reached out to console and give guidance to a complete stranger.”

“If I had known that stranger would turn out to be a snake like you, I might have thought twice,” Rapunzel retorted, her words sounding uncharacteristic even in her own ears. It wasn't like her to be so cold, but...well, she was feeling cranky, and anxious, and angry—at Pontius, for being himself, at Cassandra, for putting her and everyone through all this, and at herself for being so f*cking useless.

“Indeed...that is the gamble we take on opening ourselves to strangers, even if it is but for a mere passing moment,” Pontius said, unfazed by her biting words. “I suppose I owe you, in a way. While our meeting was brief and our words sparse, you were the one who ultimately made me decide to stay in Corona, despite having been banished by your father beforehand.”

Rapunzel snorted, half in disbelief, half in amazement—she knew this man to be a liar and a manipulator, yet she knew he was telling her the truth in this matter. And something she had learned to be worse than a filthy lie was a bitter truth. To think that she had unintentionally helped him in such a way! It was almost comedic as it was infuriating.

“I can only imagine why my father came to that decision,” she said, idly brushing a long strand of hair away from her face. “Guessing you won't explain that little detail to me?”

Pontius shrugged, as if it was no big deal. “It hardly matters at this point in time, but...I already told Cassandra as much, so I might as well tell you, too. In short, both of your parents had quite a change of heart upon your return to Corona. I do not think you truly understand just how different they were in the eighteen years of your disappearance; they were mere shells of their former selves. Empty and apathetic, the light only returned to their eyes once you were reunited with them. And not long after that, they decided that my advisem*nt was no longer needed nor wanted.”

Rapunzel's eyes narrowed. “That's a bit vague,” she pointed out. “I am aware that my parents were not the most...reliable rulers after I was abducted and they were left grieving. But what exactly made them decide to banish you?”

The wily man held her gaze for a moment, before sighing, holding up his hands in mock defeat. “I was...overzealous in my desire to see Corona rise above the other Six Kingdoms,” he confessed. “For a time, your parents were on board with my vision, even entertaining my plans for territorial expansion. However, your miraculous return seemingly put things into perspective for them, and they realized that spending time with you was more important than indulging in a fool's ambitions.”

“You almost sound sympathetic,” Rapunzel said suspiciously. “Which is weird, considering it sounded like things were going pretty well for you until I showed up. Do you hold it against me, since I all but ruined your plans simply by returning home?”

Pontius looked offended that she would even ask such a thing, splaying his hands out to his sides, as though he was a man of integrity and not an insincere hack who took advantage of mentally unwell handmaidens who were mad with power.

“Would you believe me if I told you that I don't?”

The question caught her off guard. While at first glance it sounded rather simple, she wasn't sure how to answer. She didn't trust him—she still knew that much—but in this instance, he genuinely didn't seem to bear any ill will towards her, despite being banished because of her. True, she hadn't personally done the deed herself, and maybe her parents would have done it anyway even if she had never returned to Corona, but the fact remained that her coming back home had ruined the man's life...or at least, set his plans back drastically.

“I don't know,” she replied at last. “I don't know much about you, and what little I have learned is nothing good. Even if you are being honest in this instance, you must be aware that I have spoken out against you when talking with Cassandra. I'm not going to stop trying to convince her to send you out of Corona, so it would only be natural for you to hate me. If nothing else, whatever plans you have would be a lot easier to carry out without me in the picture.”

Might as well be blunt and put everything out in the open, she thought to herself. She wasn't very good at being subtle or using wordplay to gain some kind of advantage over others, and she hated beating around the bush. Better to be direct and cut to the chase, especially with people such as Pontius.

“Princess Rapunzel, you wound me with such foul insinuations,” Pontius said dramatically. “I have been called many things in my life—and I concede to some of those things being truer than not—but I do not like to think of myself as being so petty and small minded as to blame my own failures on a young lady who had nothing to do with any of it. And please, I beg of you, do not think for a moment that I would wish you ill will, let alone any form of harm! You must understand, we are on the same side here. We just...happen to have slightly different means of going about things.”

“'Slightly different'?” Rapunzel echoed incredulously. “I am trying my best to convince Cassandra to come to her senses and surrender, while you are encouraging her to take over the world! How can you expect me to trust a word you say when we are working towards such opposite outcomes?”

Pontius shrugged. “Life is filled with such multiplexed contradictions, I'm afraid. I admit that my methods are not as straightforward or pure as yours, but I assure you that in the grand scheme of things, our desires are the same: to build a world in which no one is above justice, where the goodness and magic that is so innate within Corona can be shared with everyone, from all corners of the globe, no matter who or where one might...”

He trailed off, placing a hand over his stomach before smiling almost sheepishly. “...Forgive me, Highness, but...do you mind walking while talking? It is quite early for such heavy topics, and I'm utterly famished. You look like you could use something to eat as well, if I may say so...”

Rapunzel didn't want to walk with him anywhere, and yet, she found herself nodding anyway. Even if he was her enemy, it would probably be a good idea to learn as much about him as she could. What was that old saying? Keep your friends close, and your enemies closer?

Cass had liked that one. She wondered what the two of them would even be labeled as now—not friends, as friends didn't try killing each other; but not enemies either, since last she was aware of, enemies did not make out with one another.

God, everything was so f*cking confusing. Just when she'd thought she was finally becoming adjusted to the world, she felt like the proverbial rug had been pulled from beneath her feet. And now, not only did she have to put up with Cass and her increasingly demanding advances, but she also had to put up with this weird man and his delusions of grandeur.

“I'm sure you already know this, since you seem to know everything about everyone, but I can cook. Just in case we get to the kitchens and no one's there,” she told him haughtily, falling into step beside him as they began to walk. Honestly, it was better this way, she had to admit. Standing in the middle of this dark corridor alone with a villain like Pontius was enough to make her skin crawl...not that she thought he was the kind of man who was a creep or anything like that.

“You flatter me, Princess,” Pontius replied with a chuckle. “As it so happens, I did know that; although that is one of the more commonly known factoids about you.”

“Factoids?” Rapunzel repeated quizzically. “I have 'factoids' now?”

“Well, yes. Surely you must be aware of the, well...fact that you are quite the unusual Princess, and as such, you're bound to have many people curious about you,” Pontius explained patiently. “A Princess who cooks is unusual enough, but that is the least interesting thing about Rapunzel the Radiant, who can also fight and is more acrobatic than most warriors.”

“Do people really call me that?” she asked in disbelief. Such dramatic and important sounding titles were common among royals, and even knights and warriors often partook in them to garner more widespread recognition and repute. It was kind of weird to imagine that she was known by strangers who had given her such fanciful monikers.

A pause, and then a crooked grin from Pontius. “No. But I thought it sounded rather fitting, considering your affiliation to the sun and all.”

Rapunzel snorted. “You mean my previous affiliation with the sun. Before Cassandra ripped the Sundrop from me back on the day of the eclipse.”

Pontius winced. “Ah, yes...I apologize for, er...broaching that sensitive subject. I am sure you do not want nor need to be reminded of that.”

“It wasn't the worst thing Cass has done,” the blonde muttered bitterly. “Either way, I doubt many people will be singing my praises anymore. Everyone is avoiding me...well, those who are left in Corona, that is. This whole hom*osexual marriage business seems to have ignited a whole new kind of chaos in the kingdom, and just when I thought things might be beginning to stabilize...”

“Mm. I wanted to give the people a bit more of a 'buffer time' to better settle into the radical changes that have rocked their lives over the past weeks before gently giving the news of your marriage, but...Cassandra was adamant on having the coronation wedding as soon as possible. And while I am her Royal Adviser, I am afraid my words of warning have fallen on deaf ears,” Pontius said, his tone dipping into something approaching disappointment.

“I don't know which she is more eager to claim: the crown, or...me,” Rapunzel mused aloud, feeling immediately embarrassed afterward for letting such a private thought leave her mind. She really must have been desperate to talk to someone, if she was willing to talk with Pontius of all people about her personal woes.

Pontius raised a brow at that. “I would think the answer would be obvious, especially to you. Cassandra wants the crown, yes, but only because that is the best way to go about claiming your hand in marriage. Two people of the same sex marrying each other in such a public setting is no small feat; Cassandra knows this, and knows too that it will take more than the Ultimate Power to get what she wants.”

Rapunzel wasn't sure what to think anymore on the topic of her impending marriage. On one hand, it would be awful and heartbreaking if the reason Cass was doing this whole wedding stunt was merely for political power points. But then...even if she was doing it purely out of love for her, it was still a terribly selfish, impulsive act that was ultimately still for her own benefit and no one else. So either way, what her fallen friend was doing was wrong—recent revelations of love be damned.

“If she really cared about me like she claims she does, she would at the very least let me join her in her little meetings instead of pushing me away,” she grumbled sourly, still annoyed by the fact that Pontius was allowed within certain circles while she was denied.

“Try not to take it too personally,” Pontius said carefully. “Cassandra is only trying to protect you from any...political blow back. She feels that the less you are involved in her plans for our great future, the safer you will be, for the road to our victory is still long and perilous. I do not wish to alarm you, but you would make for quite the tempting target, since Cassandra herself is invincible, and it won't take a genius to discover that the only thing she fears is losing you...”

She wanted to argue, to refute him, but she knew he was right. Cass was already super paranoid and possessive of her, especially after the Hector incident back on the day of the eclipse, and she would only grow worse in the future. How long would it be until some nearby kingdom or faraway nation attempted to take her as a hostage in order to make demands of Cass? It was a disturbing thought, as she knew that in such a scenario, there would be no talking her down from murdering any and all people involved.

“I am not alarmed at the prospect of being held hostage or assassinated—one of the first things I learned about being a Princess was that as a high ranking public figure, the risk of becoming a target would never be low,” Rapunzel replied solemnly. “In fact, some time after I had returned to Corona, a crazed man attempted to kill me with some sort of explosive device when I was painting the outer walls of a newly built school. Had it not been for Varian and Cass, he likely would have succeeded.”

Pontius paused for a moment as he briefly stopped at an oncoming corner to survey the next hall, then sighed. “Yes...I recall hearing all about that event back then,” he told her somberly. “I could hardly believe it, myself. Things like that just don't happen in Corona, after all. Still, as heinous of an act as it may have been, it showed how valiant and unwavering Cassandra was in her duty to protect you. Just as she is today.”

They resumed their long march to the kitchens after Pontius gave a slight nod that the coast was clear. Apparently for all his carefree demeanor on the surface, he was a deeply cautious man...which made sense, given the line of work he was in. Being in a shadowy organization seemed like it'd be awfully stressful, what with all the sneaking and hiding and secrecy. She was surprised that he didn't have a head full of gray hairs by now.

“Maybe so. Still, I can't help but take it personally, however,” Rapunzel said. “She can claim she is only protecting me all she likes, but I know that is not the only reason. Shutting me out also means she doesn't have to put up with me getting in her way at every turn.”

“I...can't deny that one, no,” Pontius conceded. “But these are turbulent times we are living in. Give it some time, and I am sure she will come around and include you more often.”

Even he didn't sound like he believed his own words, Rapunzel thought to herself. She certainly didn't believe that Cass would ever be completely open with her in what she was doing, but then, at the same time...part of her did not want to know everything. Because that would mean facing the uncomfortable and very real possibility that Cass was beyond saving...that she was lost to her, forever, no matter how hard she tried to pull her back to the light...

“...You told me back then that your name was Pendragon,” she said after a time, deciding that it was pointless to continue speaking on the topic of Cass keeping things from her, as Pontius was in no position to do anything to remedy that, even if he wanted to. Which she doubted he did, since that would mean having to contend with both her and Cass and the constant arguing that would ensue between them with each step taken in their foolhardy plot for world domination. Or whatever. “Is that your true identity, then? Or was it yet another lie?”

Pontius smirked. “Neither. Both. Who is to say?”

Rapunzel frowned, not appreciating the man's coyness, and he just laughed. “As much as I wish it were my true identity, alas, it is just an old code name. A bit self indulgent, I admit, but that's part of the fun of it, I say.”

“I am beginning to think that you find the 'fun' in things that are otherwise not even more than I do,” she muttered, remembering once more her earlier reverie regarding the problematic parallels between herself and her enemy. “There isn't anything fun about what is happening. I know in the past, I would normally try to distract everyone with some announcement about a new holiday or some game I just made up, but...people are struggling out there. Because of Cass, and you, and...me.”

Pontius regarded her curiously upon hearing that last part. “Whatever do you mean, Princess? You are hardly at fault for current events...”

“Aren't I?” Rapunzel countered. “Last week, when we were walking through Corona to give reparations to those who needed it, you told that awful lie about the Saporians being the reason for Cass being necessary in order to protect the kingdom, and I just...went along with it. I lied, just as Cass lied...just as you lied.”

“You assessed the situation and made the necessary decision that would cause the least amount of chaos,” Pontius retorted evenly. “People do not like change. They are averse to it, even when it would ultimately benefit them. By leading them to believe that the Saporians are an active threat, it takes their minds off of being scared of Cassandra, who should not be feared in the first place. Building up trust and favorability towards their new ruler will make it much easier to implement the kinds of changes that will bring about a peace and prosperity the likes of which the world has never seen. So, really...what are a few small lies in the face of a better world? Why, they're hardly even lies! More like...exaggerations. Minor embellishments. The Saporians are still a threat, after all, just not quite as big of a threat as people now perceive.”

Speaking with Pontius again, Rapunzel discovered just what it was that made her feel so repelled by him: the way he could talk about something and make it sound so reasonable, so convincing, even when it was anything but. He spoke of sweeping one issue under the rug while propping up a different one, and while world peace sounded quite lovely and all, she couldn't help but wonder exactly what kind of 'changes' he had so vaguely mentioned in order to get such a world. Ignorant as she may have been, she knew that the world was a big place, filled with many different kinds of people—and none of them would take very kindly to a self proclaimed goddess telling them that she was running the show now.

“Another 'factoid' you should know about me is that I hate lying,” she stated icily. “I only lied because telling all those people that Cass was not working under cover to undermine the Saporians would have only caused more violence. Which is another thing I hate, by the way.”

To his credit, Pontius did not attempt to make some snappy quip or put a spin on what she had been saying, instead falling silent as he stuck his hands in his pockets. His expression looked akin to that of a man who was currently trying to solve a puzzle, or to very carefully find the right answer to some riddle. It couldn't have been easy, attempting to be someone who tried so desperately to please everyone on all sides. He had to not only appease Cassandra, but her as well, along with his own people and the people of Corona, and likely beyond.

Again, she was struck with the parallels between them, and how that particular trait mirrored her own need to be a people pleaser...though she liked to believe that she would never be so delusional as to try and placate villains. Actual villains, she reminded herself sharply, as Cass was not a villain! She was just...corrupted. Twisted. Warped. Lost... Very different from being pure evil, like Gothel was, or Zhan Tiri.

Maybe Pontius wasn't pure evil himself, but he was definitely infuriating with the way he could manipulate people and events. In that, they could not be more different, as Rapunzel was no scheming manipulator. At least, she didn't think she was... Certainly not intentionally.

“Yes, of course...I do know you,” he murmured thoughtfully. “That is what I am best known for, after all: knowing things, and knowing people. I know that you are possessed of a pure heart, untainted by the world of man. I know that you love to help others, and that you only ever truly feel free when you are outside of the castle walls. This ordeal that you've found yourself in the middle of has tested you in ways you never before imagined, and has made you both think and do things that you never thought possible.

But I know, too, that you are made of stronger stuff than most. Stronger, in some ways, than even Cassandra; Ultimate Power and all. Back then, shortly after you made your grand reappearance in Corona, I told you that the kingdom would need someone like you, and that you would be good for it. I meant what I said, and, lo and behold, I was right: Corona shined all the brighter with you as her Princess. Time and again, you and your friends helped save the day. If I am being completely honest—something I know you find me incapable of being—you were my first choice in becoming the sort of monarch that could save this world. Your heart, your spirit, your compassion, your courage and strength...yes, you have all the makings of a true Queen.”

Rapunzel was taken aback by his words, both by the subject matter and the way he spoke them. While it would have been easy to dismiss it all as flattery in order to soften her opinion of him, she couldn't help but feel like he was being sincere. Which was...probably exactly the intended effect he was hoping for, but still. Everyone had a motive, including herself: she wanted to save everyone, Cass wanted to rule the world with her as her wife, Eugene and her family wanted to protect her, Pontius...

Surely Pontius had some motive as well. Something beyond just becoming Cassandra's Royal Adviser, which he had already accomplished, in fact.

Maybe if she knew what that motive might be, she could better understand the man, and in doing so, she could better steer Cass away from him. Or, at the very least, she could sate her own ever present curiosity that had always been such a driving force in her life, even from way back when the entirety of her existence resided within the walls of a lonely old tower.

Retaining her curiosity was a good sign—if that too ended up fading away, replaced by the ever growing despair and anguish in the present day, then she would truly be in trouble.

“...What do you mean when you say 'save this world'? Save it from what, exactly?” she asked him slowly. It seemed like the most promising lead in learning more about what might make him tick, and she really was curious as to what he was talking about, feeling like she was missing some vital context here that would help her see the bigger picture; like finding a piece of a puzzle that made the overall image suddenly become clear.

“Save it from itself, to put it shortly,” Pontius clarified cryptically. “You wouldn't believe the things I've seen out there, the places I've been, the sort of people I've met... Some of them can be found in the pages of books, but most things, I've come to realize, end up being omitted entirely; whether because those in power do not want the truth being told, or because some truths are simply too terrible and dangerous to be preserved. However...”

The blonde waited for him to continue, an air of suspense hanging over her as to what he might be referring to. She wanted to hear more, to understand what the strange man's words could've meant, but Pontius only smiled and gestured ahead. They had reached their destination.

“...We should get something to eat, now. I am already running late, and while I enjoy speaking with you and gaining more wisdom from your very unique insight, it will not help my current standing with Cassandra if I am frequently tardy. She runs a tight shift...which is to be expected, to be fair, given her militant upbringing. I always knew she was a hard woman, but still... I fear she might make me run laps around the castle at this rate!”

He chuckled, opening the door to the kitchens and gesturing for her to enter, before abruptly changing his mind and walking into the room first. “Under normal circ*mstances, I would prefer to conduct the standard amount of chivalry and etiquette, but...these are not normal times, and Cassandra would surely have my head if something foul were to befall you whilst under my watch.”

Rapunzel walked into the kitchen shortly afterward without fanfare, then turned to face him, an exasperated look etched onto her normally jubilant face. “Let me guess...you're going to tell Cass that I'm up and about earlier than usual.”

“Now, I do not enjoy being a 'snitch', Princess,” Pontius told her, adjusting his collar anxiously, “but I do not think it needs to be said that lying or keeping secrets from Cassandra is wise. Especially when said secrets involve her beloved fiance.”

“I would think that if anyone could get away with keeping a secret and/or lying to Cass, it would be you,” she countered. “And you are acting far too paranoid. What do you think is going to happen around here? I've lived in this castle for the past few years now, and everyone has always been more than friendly to me. Many may have fled Corona by this point, but that doesn't mean only thieves and cutthroats are left.”

Pontius gave her an almost pitying look—it was a look she had grown accustomed to seeing from various people in her time being free in the world, as many did not want to outright tell her that she was naive or ignorant, but their eyes told her as much all the same. She had always hated when people looked at her that way, even though she understood that they could not help it.

Because, in most instances, they were correct.

“No one can vouch for the character and integrity of Corona's people more than me, I assure you,” he said, walking over to one of the counters. “However, as it is blatantly clear, it is rather chaotic out there at the moment. And in times of chaos, even good people can be capable of making bad choices. Which means not so good people can be capable of making worse choices.”

“I may not have my magic hair anymore, but I can still fight, believe it or not,” Rapunzel said, just a tad bit defensively. “Besides, what are you going to do if someone tries to ambush us? Quote them to death?”

Pontius laughed, his back now turned to her as he rummaged around the cupboards. “Oh, I am acutely aware of your fighting prowess, Princess, believe me! Why, every time I see a frying pan, I am reminded of you and the way you swing them about like a bludgeon. As we are currently in the place where there are several frying pans currently stored, I would ask you to refrain from walloping me on the back of my head!”

Rapunzel snorted, half in amusem*nt, and half in disbelief. “I'm not some brute who goes looking for violence...” she muttered. “I won't attack you. Surely you know I won't.”

“Oh, yes, I know. I was only joking, of course,” Pontius said casually. “As for what I might do to defend Her Highness from any potential ruffians, well...I confess that I usually have a bodyguard to do that sort of business, as I am no fighter myself. However, I haven't remained alive for as long as I have without learning a few tricks of my own. Be assured, you are safe in my company, Princess. And, lest we forget, within this fortress of obsidian, Cassandra is never too far away. Who could ask for a better safety measure than her, eh?”

She wanted to tell him that she hadn't felt very 'safe' ever since Cassandra had come back to Corona like a bad storm, which was sad to think about, since once upon a time, she'd been the safest she'd ever felt when her best friend was by her side. Best to just eschew that particular subject altogether, as the general subject of Cass was enough to make her sink further into melancholy. And she was already mired in that enough as it was.

“I won't even ask what sort of trickery you would resort to, as I am sure you would only give me more vague, cryptic riddles in response,” she said instead, folding her arms over her chest as she peered over at him quizzically. “...What are you doing over there?”

There was a brief rattling of kitchenware, followed by a muffled “Ow!” as Pontius bumped his head against the edge of the cupboard door above him. “I'll have you know that you are not the only one here who knows how to cook!” he crowed, waving a wooden spoon at her for emphasis. “I may not be a master chef like our dear Verner, but I can still crack an egg with the best of them!”

Rapunzel thought that the man himself was rather 'cracked', to put it mildly, but then again...was she all that different, herself? Although many hadn't outright said it, she knew that some people had assumed that she was 'mentally handicapped' when she'd first arrived back home. Beyond simply being ignorant of the greater world and its customs, her habits and demeanor were not that of a typical girl her age; much less typical of a girl who was supposed to be royalty. Even after learning all that she had over the years, she knew she would never truly be 'normal'.

Pontius, as far as she was aware, did not have the same excuse of being locked away in a tower for much of his life, though. So why, then, was he the way that he was? Perhaps he was simply humoring her, or maybe he was openly mocking her by playing the part of a fool to show her what he really thought of her.

Was that what she truly thought of herself as, then? In the end, was she simply a Princess of fools?

“I have a hard time believing that you know how to cook a hard boiled egg, let alone anything resembling a real breakfast,” she said skeptically, to which Pontius held a hand up to his heart in mock offense.

“That is fair, I concede; as while I know a fair bit about you and your friends, you do not know much of anything about me,” he replied, lazily spinning the spoon in his hand as though it were a baton. “So, let us remedy that, if only for this specific instance. Here is a little 'factoid' concerning yours truly: years ago, when I was traveling in the distant and exotic country known as 'France', I met a sweet pâtissier who took pity on me when I had become hopelessly lost out in the countryside. I was penniless and without a place to stay, and out of the goodness of her heart, she took me in like a stray in her quaint little village home. Of course, 'goodness' does not help pay bills or fill stomachs, mind you, so naturally she put me to work while I was under her roof. In our time together, she taught me how to make all manner of tasty treats, and while I never attained half of her talents for baking, I learned enough to set myself apart from those who become lost the moment they step into a kitchen.”

Rapunzel stared at him as he recounted his story to her. While she had always been the trusting sort—unlike Cass, who had always been the sardonic, distrusting one between them—she wasn't so sure she believed a word he was saying.

“That's a lovely story,” she said nonchalantly, before asking, “what was her name, by the way? The 'pâtissier'? Surely you'd remember the name of the one who took you in in such a time of need...”

Pontius stopped twirling the spoon, raising his brows in what could be regarded as mild amusem*nt.

“...Colette,” he said after a moment. “Shall I also describe her appearance to you? Because she was quite the beauty, with her chestnut brown hair done up in cute little buns with red ribbons, and she had such big brown eyes that looked like little chocolates--”

“Okay, I get it,” Rapunzel cut him off, having heard enough. “But you can't blame me for being so skeptical. Liars like you spread so many lies that it becomes impossible to tell when you might be telling the truth.”

“It is a good trait to possess, skepticism,” Pontius said. “Too many people in this world are far too trusting. Or, rather, far too complacent in their ignorance. You yourself have quite the balance between trust and skepticism, and though you may tend to lean more towards the former, that is not a bad thing. I will not deny that I have lied when it suits me—especially since you have already witnessed it firsthand.”

He walked closer to her, handing out the wooden spoon to her as if it were some kind of peace offering. “However, I would never lie when speaking on matters of pastries and other sweets. I shudder to think of you painting me as that kind of villain...though, I would also take issue with being painted as a villain in general, really.”

Rapunzel felt frustrated once more, but it was no longer solely due to being around Pontius; now, she felt an odd sort of mix between frustration and...wistfulness? Wistfulness towards some part of her that she felt she was losing, as she had always been the brightest, happiest person in the room, no matter who was standing next to her. Now, however, she felt like she couldn't be that girl ever again. Pontius was much like she was, or had been, or...whatever. Whether or not it was all just an act for her benefit was irrelevant, she realized. Had that been what others had thought of her in the past, she wondered? That her good natured, high spirited demeanor was merely a front?

Maybe she shouldn't have been so paranoid. Maybe Pontius wasn't the villain she so desperately needed him to be, as it was far more convenient for her to put him in that role instead of Cass. Her biases had led her to this point, and though she could acknowledge that she was in fact biased towards her love for Cass, that did not mean that she could stop being biased in the future.

Which was...incredibly problematic, to say the least.

“You might be able to say that, but let's see if your actions can back up those words,” she said after a few moments, grabbing the spoon from him. “I may be able to reconsider your sincerity, if you can keep up with me here in the kitchen.”

It was a foolish thing to do, but then, if she truly was a Princess of fools, then she would not be out-fooled by this contender of a jester. If that made any f*cking sense.

Pontius grinned. “I shall get the ovens going! Might I presume you know your way around this particular kitchen? I am afraid I am at a loss as to where all the ingredients that we might need are stored, and I would hate to leave something to burn while rummaging for the odd spice or garnish...”

“I'll get everything we need, but first, what exactly are we making?” Rapunzel asked, feeling something akin to eager anticipation at the prospect of cooking. How long had it been since the last time she'd prepared her own food?

“Pain au chocolat,” Pontius replied, looking wistful himself now. “Dear Colette's signature recipe, and my favorite pastry from her humble bakery.”

Rapunzel raised a brow at that. “Pain au chocolat...hm. That could take a while... Didn't you mention you were already running late for some important meeting with Cassandra?”

“That's the best part of running late,” Pontius quipped with a wink. “Once you know you're already going to be late anyway, you can take your time. Besides, the way I see it, I am useless on an empty stomach, and Cassandra demands the best from everyone. So, in a way, I am still doing my part by eating breakfast first.”

It was a direct contradiction to what he had just told her earlier, and yet, the blonde did not argue. In fact, she agreed wholeheartedly with that sentiment, having done the very same herself back when life had been simpler and she had been a somewhat mischievous Princess who did not always behave or obey her parents' rules. Oh, how she missed those bygone days—or, rather, nights—when she would sneak out of the castle with Cass!

Which was painfully ironic, seeing as now, in the present, it was Cass who was keeping her held captive within the castle instead of being the one who led her to the freedom of the outside world.

“I usually prefer something light for breakfast, such as fruit, maybe some bread and cheese,” Pontius was saying as the both of them set out making the necessary preparations for baking a decidedly unhealthy breakfast. “Though, sometimes I just can't help but to indulge myself...”

“Same here,” Rapunzel said, plucking ingredients from the pantry with a deft hand. “Lately I've really been splurging when it comes to over the top meals. Cass keeps telling me to eat healthier, but I figure that I might as well live it up in whatever small ways I can find. Since I'm—y'know—her captive and all.”

Pontius sighed, apparently unable to brush past her—admittedly—passive aggressive statement with a deflection or some off topic tangent this time.

“I have studied both you and Cassandra for some time, now,” he told her after a moment. “Not only on an individual level, but your relationship together as well. You've been best friends for nearly as long as you've known each other. Cassandra did not have many friends growing up, and for much of her life, she isolated herself and focused only on her training. Thus, it was quite the unexpected twist when she ended up not only befriending you, but falling for you too. It's almost miraculous, when you think about it...”

“Can your 'studies' help me understand why she is doing all of this now, then?” Rapunzel asked bitterly. “Because you're right—Cassandra is my best friend. I love her, and I want to help her, even now after everything that has happened. But friends do not take other friends captive and force them into a marriage. Nor do they scare everyone away or use force to get what they want.”

“Ah...well...” Pontius faltered, setting down a large bowl on the counter top. “...I must admit, my information is rather outdated. I am not privy to what transpired when you and your friends were on the road last year during your quest to the Dark Kingdom. I can only assume that your bonds were put to the test, as any daring adventurers' would be under such circ*mstances. The trials and tribulations of the protagonist are often the catalysts for great changes, not only for the world around them, but for their relationships with their companions; and indeed, for the protagonist themselves. Seldom does one remain the same person that they were at the beginning of their story by the end of it.”

Rapunzel might not have known much about the man that she was currently cooking with in the kitchen—not nearly as much as he apparently knew about her, at least—but she was quickly learning that he was someone who viewed everything through the lens of stories and other such references. She might have found that trait to be interesting, under different circ*mstances, but in the here and now, she simply found it to be tedious.

“If only our lives could each be as fulfilling and climatic as those found within the pages of a storybook,” she muttered, setting out all of the ingredients on the table. Fortunately, the most time consuming part of the recipe had already been done the previous night by the cooks, and the dough had been made and left to set overnight so that it was ready to be used by breakfast. She could remember attempting such feats herself, back when she had lived in her tower, but she had been left with only basic recipes and a very rudimentary kitchen that had only allowed her to bake mostly pies or cookies, sometimes cakes.

Gothel had always been strict with what and how much she ate...not unlike Cassandra, she thought to herself grimly. No...that was an unfair comparison. Cass had always been a stern woman who adhered to a life of healthy eating and exercise, true, but that had been the old Cass. The good Cass.

The bad Cass, however, was a different creature altogether, as far as she was concerned. Those traits that she had admired, and even those bad ones that she was able to look past, were all at once twisted and warped, until they became overbearing and downright oppressive. Cassandra's inherent nature of defending her and their home, for example, had been corrupted into a possessive, authoritarian madness that was currently tearing the kingdom apart.

“I think that you of all people are living proof that some of us might as well have walked out of the confines of a book,” Pontius said. “There is no question in my mind that your story will be written, sung, and emulated by others for many years to come.”

“Then let us all hope that the ending of this story does not end in tragedy,” Rapunzel retorted. “The journey to the Dark Kingdom was filled with many dangers, I can tell you that for certain. But it was only towards the end when everything turned ugly. Cass was deceived and manipulated by Zhan Tiri into stealing the Moonstone. Without that villain whispering into her ear, Cass never would have done what she did.”

“Hmm...interesting,” Pontius hummed thoughtfully. “From the way I first assumed things had played out, I pictured Zhan Tiri having had used some form of dark magic to push Cassandra into betraying you. But deception and manipulation...these are tricks that anyone can do, magic or not. It also implies that the warlock had to have been able to latch on to some inner vulnerability in order to manipulate her. I wonder what that might have been...”

Rapunzel decided that it was not her place to tell him about Cassandra's 'secret': that secret being, of course, that the former handmaid's mother was none other than Gothel. She was fairly certain that that had been the 'inner vulnerability' that Zhan Tiri had found in order to more easily sway Cassandra into doing her bidding.

...But, then, that never really made much sense to her, in hindsight. Was there more that she was unaware of? Or maybe there had been more than one reason why Cass had betrayed her? She knew that their relationship had become strained, especially after the incident at the Great Tree, but...surely that hadn't been a contributing factor in her actions within the Dark Kingdom.

She didn't want to believe that possibility, because that would mean that she was, in part, responsible for what was currently happening. No, she had not forced Cass to do the terrible things she had done or was doing, but she had not been a very good friend to her when she'd needed her most. She had only tried to be the Princess that everyone expected her to be, and in doing so, she had pushed away the one person who meant the world to her.

“It doesn't matter,” she said gruffly—which was, again, so uncharacteristic of her. When had anything she'd ever said or done been described as anything remotely 'gruff'? “Cass has already been tricked and led down a dark path once before. I won't have you and your lies leading her any further down into the depths.”

Pontius snorted, shaking his head. “That would imply that I have the intent of manipulating her in a similar fashion as Zhan Tiri did, which I most assuredly will not. The woman was ancient and evil, and only sought Corona's destruction—something that I am very much against. As I have tried to explain before, I only seek to bring Corona to greater heights. To that end, I believe Cassandra to be the best means to achieve that goal. Must that automatically mean that I am some dastardly manipulator?”

Maybe it didn't, but either way, Rapunzel didn't trust him. He was bad, he was a villain, and she had to stop him. That was what the heroes did, and she was a hero, right? Although...to be fair, he had helped her in averting further violence and possibly even death back when they had been ambushed by that armed mob. Both of them had talked down Cass from doing something terrible, and while Pontius had gone on to lie to everyone not long afterward, he could have very easily goaded Cass into eliminating her opposition rather than sparing them. So there was that.

How confusing it was, trying to figure out where to place him on the list of 'evil doers', as the types of villains she had been accustomed to in the past had all been fairly black and white in terms of being unquestionably bad. Gothel, the Baron, Zhan Tiri and her acolytes... There could be no mistaking them as anything other than evil.

But Pontius felt more...gray? Did that make sense? At least, compared to those she had faced before, he wasn't nearly as bad. Here she was, making pastries in the early morning with him, and while their conversation could not quite be called friendly, it was still a conversation; something she had not really had with any of her enemies from before. Oh, they'd all talked to her, of course, but it had always amounted to little more than overt threats and malicious monologues. Not to mention that she hadn't had anything remotely in common with them.

She still didn't count Cass as a villain—because of course she didn't, as she had known the woman from before this nightmare had begun. Cass was not completely lost, and could be saved, she just knew it.

What did that say about Pontius, then? Was he too far gone, or could he too be convinced to turn over a new leaf? She highly doubted he would ever change, as his main goal in life seemed to be devoted to the nigh mythical undertaking of changing the world into an Arthurian-esque utopia where an absolute monarch ruled eternal. That was not the sort of thing you could just talk someone away from or convince them that it was wrong and insane to pursue such a dream.

True, she had not been able to turn Cass either...yet. But she just needed more time; time, and the right words and actions. To give up on Cass would be to give up on her own deep seated ideals, and, worse yet, it would be to lose the woman she loved.

Perhaps it spoke poorly to her character that she held such a bias, but again, she could not help it. In her mind, Cass could be saved, while Pontius could not. It was as simple as that.

Still...did that mean that she should not at least try?

“I think one of the biggest contrasts between us is that while I have barely traveled the lands, you seem to be very worldly,” she said after a while, standing side by side with the strange man as they both went about filling and folding the delicate pastries. “You probably already know this about me, as I didn't exactly make it any kind of secret, but I always wanted to travel, to see new places and peoples. Aside from saving the lands from the black rocks, it was a big reason why I jumped at the chance to set out for the Dark Kingdom back then. But now, as I learn more about you, I can't help but wonder if the world would make a similar person out of me...”

Pontius chuckled, carefully rolling the chocolate into the dough. Apparently he hadn't been lying about that part of his life, at least—she could tell just by the way his hands moved and the way he carried himself in the kitchen that he was no stranger to cooking.

“That is a very curious way of looking at it, Princess,” he said, amused. “The world is vast, and filled with so much more than what the books they have you read here can contain. When I learned that you had a love for the arts, it made knowing of your eighteen year imprisonment within your tower all the more tragic, as I can think of no greater torture for an artist's soul than to be trapped in isolation, cut off from everything.

And yet, I also learned that your artistry thrived, regardless of your circ*mstances. A true triumph of the human spirit, if I may say so. That being said, I believe you would love to learn more about the world of art, about some of history's greats, as well as some of the more obscure pieces that they likely did not cover in your crash course studies that they were quick to thrust onto you.

As much as I would love to tell you that the world is filled with naught but awe inspiring art and pretty poems, that would be a complete lie; a lie that even I would not be bold enough to claim. I am sure you have seen it for yourself, if only in small doses while you were out there on the road: there is much beauty to be found, but there is also much ugliness. Pain. Anguish. Injustices the likes of which you could not fathom.

I do not think being further exposed to the world would 'taint' you, however; much less make you more akin to someone like me! Though it could be said that we are all merely products of our circ*mstances, I can tell you in all honesty that my life—and all of my decisions, good and bad, are my own.”

He paused, glancing over at her concernedly. “...Is that what is troubling you, Princess? The thought of becoming someone you no longer recognize as yourself? You know, if you need someone to talk to, Cassandra is likely to--”

“A lot of things are troubling me,” Rapunzel cut him off tersely, her hands trembling and her careful folding actions becoming less nimble and more erratic as she continued to work on the damned pastries. “And trust me, I would talk to Cassandra, but I have barely seen her lately, and she's made it very clear that she's the one who decides when and where we get to speak.”

“Oh...” Pontius cleared his throat awkwardly, looking down at the ruined pastry that she had just mangled. “Apologies, then. I...was unaware of the current standing between you and Cassandra. The way she talks about you when I am in her company, I just assumed that she was seeing you whenever she got the chance...”

Rapunzel sighed, tossing the ruined pastry aside before wiping her hands on a cloth. “Actually, I think that she probably sees more of you than she does of me these days. Tomorrow is supposed to be the big 'wedding' that she has forced upon me and all of Corona to attend, but I am half expecting her to not show up there either.”

“That...is indeed a problem,” Pontius agreed, sounding troubled. “Perhaps it can be chalked up to pre-wedding jitters, though it is awfully funny to imagine someone as stoic and powerful as Cassandra of all people to be worried about that of all things. Especially considering that it was she herself who has arranged the whole bloody thing! And just who do you think she ordered to set everything up in a mere week's time? I'm a Royal Adviser, not a wedding planner!”

The blonde had to admit that it was rather funny to hear him complain; flippant and non-serious as he played it off, of course. She could just envision Cassandra bossing him about, dumping the entirety of the wedding plans and preparations onto his back while doing little to nothing herself.

“I've never really been to any big weddings, myself,” she said quietly. “Setting one up sounds like it could be fun, but...I don't think the bride is supposed to work on her own wedding. Plus I didn't want this in the first place, so I doubt my heart would really be in it.”

“Well, let me tell you, they are quite the hassle,” Pontius said, carefully placing his own meticulously crafted pastries onto the baking tray. “Royal weddings, especially. A couple of commoners getting hitched among a party of family and friends can indeed be quite fun, but some folk do not even consider that a proper 'wedding', let alone a marriage. If it isn't formal and classy and done within a church at the hands of a priest, then most people have a fit.”

“I'm beginning to realize how seriously people take marriages,” Rapunzel sighed in dismay. “Which might sound pretty silly, considering my history with marriage proposals in the past... But I never knew how people might react to those of the same sex marrying each other. I'm a bit disturbed by how some are taking it out there, saying that it is sinful and disgusting and whatnot... Why is it such a big issue? I've attempted to ask about it before, to no avail, but you seem to know a lot about everything, so...”

Pontius took a moment, removing his flask from his pocket before taking a swig. It was an odd little quirk she had noticed he'd done several times since meeting him, and she wondered what it was that he was drinking so frequently...

“Now, that is a subject that cannot be fully explained within the span of breakfast hours,” he said lightly, but as she stared at him for some kind of answer, he shrugged and relented.

“...To put it shortly, Princess, people are fickle creatures. They will always find something to hate, something to cause division, something to feel superior over their fellow human beings. Race, sex, religion...why, in some cases, even eye color, if you can believe it. In every age, time and again, it is the same thing: rampant cruelty, mass violence, perpetual suffering of those who are deemed different. Never is any of it ever deserved, nor warranted.”

Rapunzel frowned, not satisfied with his answer, but was able to understand that that was likely the best answer she was going to get to such a question. As much as she hated the possibility, she had to at least consider that not everyone had an answer to each question, that not every problem could have a solution, and that not every wrong could be righted. The world just didn't work like that—no matter how much she wished it might.

“So, historically, arranged marriages—forced marriages—were completely fine and considered the norm, huh?” she inquired, already knowing it was true.

Pontius nodded. “Yes... I know such traditions have gone somewhat out of vogue over the past century or so, but there was a time when--”

“So forced marriages were seen as morally okay, but people riot over hom*osexual marriages?” the blonde went on, cutting him off.

“...That is correct, unfortunately. Although, some places are more lenient than others when it comes to same sex relations...but those are few and far between, I am afraid. As big of a place as the world might feel, it has become woefully small over the ages...”

“I don't think I will ever understand people or customs or traditions, or whatever,” Rapunzel huffed. “It all just feels so...unfair. And whenever I try to say as much, I get called childish.”

“Sometimes I feel the same,” Pontius admitted, his eyes still focused on his task as he spoke. “This world is no place for us dreamers, but it is the dreamers that are needed most. I dream of a better world, just as you do. A world where people are less prone to violence and cruelty...”

“A world ruled by an all powerful conqueror, you mean,” Rapunzel pointed out, not falling for his attempt at painting their ideals as compatible. She might've been able to admit that they were similar in certain ways, but they were nowhere near the same! “One who, need I remind you, is not in her right mind.”

“You shouldn't speak of your wife-to-be that way,” Pontius retorted blithely. “As much as I wish it were otherwise, we cannot reach our idealized world without making some sacrifices...or getting our hands dirty. Cassandra, for all her faults, is a necessary evil--”

“She isn't evil,” Rapunzel insisted, her tone coming out sharper than she had intended.

“...You're right, she is not evil; that was not the right way to put it,” Pontius amended. “But she is necessary in order for this world to change in any meaningful way. That, you cannot deny.”

She wanted to do just that, to deny it, but what if she was wrong? In all of her ignorance, what if he was right, and that people simply could not be trusted to do what was right and good on their own? Were humans truly that hopeless, that they could not ultimately change for the better, no matter how many years, decades, or centuries went by? Did the world need a ruler, a goddess, to guide and dictate everyone's fate? For much of history, people looked to gods and kings to do just that, to make some sense out of everything or to just tell you that your suffering was not all for nothing.

Pontius seemed to think so, in his own kind of way, and he was banking it all on Cassandra of all people. It was almost comical, almost made her want to laugh, that he looked to Cass to be the shining savior of mankind. That just wasn't the same Cass she had come to know over the years.

The same Cass who couldn't stand to be around too many people unless it involved fighting them. The same Cass who had absolutely no clue what to gift someone on their birthday or other causes for celebration. The same Cass who smelled like oil and leather instead of fancy perfumes.

The same Cass who hated politics and preferred talking to animals. The same Cass who was more at home out in the woods rather than within a royal court. The same Cass who thought spinning tops were the pinnacle of children's toys.

The same Cass who was a blaspheming, treasonous, hom*osexual usurper in the eyes of most folk. Just how was Pontius expecting to put such a good spin on her to the point where people weren't either afraid or zealously enraged by her very presence on the throne? It would take a miracle for tomorrow to not end in utter disaster, for as much as she was anxious and felt dread for herself, she was also fearful for anyone who might try and make another stand against Cassandra.

Jonas and his lot had gotten off lucky, all things considered. But if such a public outcry of resistance happened again, on the day of the wedding? Cass would not tolerate it, as their marriage had been the very first thing she had declared would happen after taking the Ultimate Power on the day of the eclipse. It obviously meant a great deal to her, and she wouldn't let anyone ruin their 'special' day.

Could such an unstable person bring about positive changes to a world that would only see her as a heretical tyrant at best, and a demonic threat at worst?

“If you know Cass as I know her, then you, too, know that she herself does not believe people are capable of change,” she told him, green eyes turning distant as she remembered listening to the older woman telling her about the way she viewed the world. “She believes in destinies and fates and whatnot. Everyone is fixed on their own paths, and are predestined to end up wherever they may.”

Pontius frowned—a rare sight indeed—and shook his head. “Yes...that is not exactly a secret that she keeps hidden, nor something that she is subtle about,” he said wearily. “I prefer destinies that are more...flexible, if that makes any sense. Arthur was the one destined to wield Excalibur and rule Camelot, for example, but there is much more to the legend beneath that surface level observation. ...Fret not, I shall not be regaling you with a long winded summary of my own interpretation of the Arthurian myths, as that would take far longer than making pain au chocolat.

My point still stands, however. Cassandra is this world's best chance at surviving its own self destructive tendencies. I realize that this is a bold claim, to say the least, but with the careful guidance of you, me, and perhaps a handful of others in the future, she can rule with more than just fear and threats. Arthur was not the same person at the end of his story as he was in the beginning, and neither will Cassandra be. With a bit of luck, we can ensure that she will become better and grow into this monumental role.”

“You seem to be ignoring the fact that I don't want any of this,” Rapunzel reminded him flatly. “Not just the wedding. I don't want Cass to be Queen of the world, either. She's out of her mind, and you're just enabling her with your own delusions.”

“This is becoming somewhat of a circular argument,” Pontius pointed out nonchalantly, his calm reactions to each of her points only infuriating her more. “I will say how much Cassandra is needed for the good of the world, and you will say that you do not want her to tread such a path. I understand your feelings, but...”

“No. You're right—this is a circular argument, one that is getting neither of us anywhere,” Rapunzel sighed irritably. “I don't need you to try and tell me that you understand how I feel, though. So...let's just...talk about something else. Since I'm unable to talk to many people anymore, I don't want to waste this time talking in circles about things I'd rather not even think about.”

Pontius raised a skeptical brow, but did not press the issue any further. Perhaps he too was growing weary of the topic, as it was an ever present event that was currently unfolding, thus did not really need much in the way of constant talk.

“A change in conversation is an excellent idea,” he agreed, wiping his hands on a cloth before looking down at their handiwork. “But, first, I should ask...just how many of these are we making? I do not want to presume a limit to how many pastries Her Highness can put away, and as for myself, I like to keep it to a limit of maybe two or three...depending on the size of the pastry, of course.”

Rapunzel thought for a moment. She wasn't the type of person to eat too much, especially in the morning. But using her own two hands to make something—even something as simple as pain au chocolat—felt good. It was a minor distraction, a way for her to focus on something other than...well, everything else. And it was something that she was good at, something that she could feel pride in.

She would have loved to bring Catalina along to help her cook and bake things together, but the poor girl had declined any trips to the kitchen, as she had told her that on her first night in the castle with Cass by her side, she had lost control of her bestial appetites and had made quite the mess of a sizable flank of meat. The event had been traumatizing for her, thus she avoided the kitchen altogether.

Rapunzel didn't blame her, assuring her that she understood...at least, understanding as best as anyone who was not cursed with lycanthropy could hope to understand such a plight. That being said...it was nice to be here in a more familiar setting, doing something that she enjoyed. Lord knew Cass had no business being in a kitchen; the memory of taking a bite of the 'oatmeal' she'd attempted to cook for her making her mentally cringe.

“A dozen,” she decided aloud. “I'd like to leave some for the kitchen staff when they get up and come to work later. I feel bad for making such a mess...”

“We can clean up before departing,” Pontius suggested, before quickly amending, “...or, er, I could clean things up. A Princess doing the work of a dishwasher is not appropriate at all.”

“Neither are a lot of the things I that I do,” Rapunzel reminded him matter of factly. “I will help clean when we are done. I'm a Princess, so you have to listen to me.”

Pontius chuckled, conceding with a shrug. “You are right, of course—in both instances. A Princess though you may be, you are nothing if not extraordinary among your kind. I know many a young blue blood would balk at the very idea of getting their hands sullied by dirt or flour or anything else.”

Rapunzel didn't think of herself as extraordinary—certainly not special by any means. She knew the only reason she wasn't more like most other Princesses her age was because of her 'unique' upbringing; one that was not even within a castle or around any subjects.

Still...she wished more royals were more down to earth and didn't act like they were God's greatest gift to the world. Maybe if more people who grew up not in royalty—and definitely not in an isolated tower!--were able to take positions of power and leadership, things might be better for everyone overall.

But that was not the way of a monarchy, which was still the most common type of governance in this world that she'd found herself in.

“I've only met with a few other Princesses in my time in Corona, and only briefly,” she commented, remembering how they each made it very clear that they thought she was weird. Which she preferred, to be honest. She liked being weird over being confined to some stuffy conformity. “Now that I think about it, I am most likely going to have to see each of them again, and many others, if Cass is serious about taking over everything...”

“You needn't worry about that quite yet,” Pontius told her casually. “We still have our hands full with putting Corona back together again. Once we have stabilized and have a clear cut plan on moving forward, I believe you will prove to be vital when it comes to negotiations and peace talks and the like. And Cassandra will be able to help...enforce things, should push come to shove.”

She didn't like the sounds of that, as that implied that while she would be the one doing all the 'negotiating', Cass would be the one standing behind her all the while, glaring everyone down with the promise that they would regret crossing her if they did not comply. That wasn't negotiating—that was coercion.

“I said that I would help Cass, not help Cass strong-arm everyone into subjugation,” she told him tersely. “But you're right—I'm not going to worry about that. Not yet, anyway. The only thing I'm going to concern myself with right now is making sure these pastries get baked evenly.”

Pontius did not press the issue, thankfully, but was swift to take hold of the baking tray before she could. She glared at him indignantly, not understanding the reasoning of his actions.

“...Forgive me, Princess, but I must insist that I be the one to handle the oven. Can't risk you burning a hand or a finger,” he said, somewhat chidingly.

“Pontius, I've handled stoves and ovens since I was a child—I can take a few burns,” Rapunzel said irritably, not caring for being babied here of all places. She'd had enough of that everywhere else in the castle as a Princess—but here, in the kitchen, she was in her element. And no one could take that from her.

“Of that, I have no doubt. However, I cannot say that I would like to explain myself to Cassandra should she discover you'd been burned whilst in my company,” Pontius explained apologetically. “She is...quite protective of you, to put it mildly. Thus, I feel it is in my best interest to ensure that you remain unscathed.”

Rapunzel remained quiet for a moment, before finally relenting and gesturing for him to carry on. As much as she might've disliked—and distrusted—Pontius, she did not want him or anyone else to be harmed by Cass because of her. It was still an infuriating and unfair situation to be stuck in, of course; one that she would have to discuss at length with her 'wife' when she got the chance. Cass would just have to accept that not every little cut, bruise or burn on her person meant that she had to immediately start cracking skulls.

“Nothing like the smell of a kitchen in use,” Pontius commented, carefully placing the tray into the oven. “Each scent, be it savory or sweet, will inevitably evoke memories of good times, of people that we have lost.”

His words sounded almost wistful, and she found herself reflecting on them as well. It was another such 'multiplexed contradiction', she mused, that most of her memories in life came from her time spent within her tower. They were at once comforting and conflicting, as in some of those moments, at the time, she had been happy or excited or cozy.

She could remember being a child, cuddled up snugly against Gothel, feeling an immense sense of relief when the old witch had returned from a supply run after spending what felt like forever worrying that she would never see her again. Since Gothel had been the one and only person she had ever known, the person she relied on for everything in her life, she had essentially been her whole world for so many years.

It was an indescribable kind of grief, knowing that in hindsight, the woman who she had known as her mother had never actually loved her. All of her memories from childhood were, therefore, built on a foundation of lies and illusions. The good ones, the bad ones, all of them. Gothel had only valued her for her magical hair, and would have kept her as her captive, her object to be used whenever she saw fit, for eternity.

Needless to say, she didn't much care for thinking back on her childhood. The memories were all tainted, and she did not want to sort through all that sh*t; feeling like she would become entangled in the messy, conflicting feelings and traumas until they strangled her entirely. No, she had been all about looking towards the future, where nothing was set and she had more control of her own destiny.

At least, up until very recently, she had. Now, the future felt bleak and daunting, and very Cass-shaped.

“Seeing as you already know my parents, and my history, I can't help but wonder a little bit about your own origins,” she remarked curiously. “What were your parents like? If you knew them, I mean...”

Pontius raised a brow, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. “My, my. A personal question. Hmm, how to respond...” he murmured. “Alright. I suppose it is only fair that I tell you that much. My mother was a seamstress, and my father was a stonemason. They were never very imaginative people, and always chastised me for my love of the arts. I probably would have become an actor instead of the leader of a shadow organization if they had only been more supportive.”

Rapunzel gave him a flat stare, unamused when he laughed at his own clearly made up story.

“Forgive me. I simply could not resist,” he chuckled.

“I am guessing that you aren't going to give me an honest answer, then,” she sighed, exasperated.

“Well, what exactly are you expecting to hear?” Pontius countered evenly. “You would not believe anything that I would tell you, even if it were the actual, unabashed truth. Perhaps you expect me to say something along the lines of 'my mother died when I was too young to remember her, and my father was a gambling man who beat me when he lost a bet'. Or the classic, 'I was an orphan who survived the streets with only my wits to aid me'. People really love that one. Gives you an air of intrigue, maybe a little danger as well, depending on how hard you lean into that angle.”

“I happen to know an actual orphan who turned out to be a rogue when I first met him,” Rapunzel said, feeling like she was talking about someone else in another life when recalling her memories of her first encounter with Eugene—or 'Flynn Rider', as he'd been known as back then.

Pontius grinned, nodding knowingly. “Ah, yes, of course. Eugene Fitzherbert, formerly known as the wanted thief and conman, Flynn Rider. Now, there is a character who I'd love to meet face to face. Between the two of you, you really do have a rather storybook-like romance.”

“We do,” she agreed, wishing she could see him again. “If you can be honest for but a moment, do you truly believe that this 'arranged' marriage between myself and Cassandra is a better fit than what Eugene and I have?”

“That...is more subjective, rather than objective,” Pontius said slowly, obviously thinking his next words over very carefully. “But, if you want my opinion, then yes, of course you and Cassandra are the superior couple.”

“Even though she's forcing this on me?” the blonde asked pointedly. “Plus the whole, you know—attempted murder and all...”

The strange man's grin faded, and he leaned back against the wall, hands in his pockets, as he regarded her with an inquisitive stare.

“Tell me, if none of this had happened and Cassandra had been a good little soldier and returned home with you after destroying the Moonstone in the Dark Kingdom, do you think she would have ever reached out to you? And if she had tried, do you think you'd even have been able to discern her attempt as anything more than 'being friendly'?”

“I...” Rapunzel paused, thinking about it. Her relationship with Cass had been strained towards the end of their journey, and while she could remember thinking that everything would've gone back to normal once they returned to Corona, there was no guarantee of that. Especially not if Cass had attempted to bear her heart to her at any point afterward.

“Honestly...I don't know if I would have been able to tell,” she admitted. “Nor do I know how I might've reacted if Cass had just come straight out and told me she loved me. No one taught me about these kinds of things...about that kind of love. I've never even seen any same sex couples in my life, and if no one had told me about how they are sinful and degenerate and whatever, I probably wouldn't have ever even known they existed at all.”

“Cassandra lived much of her life hiding that part of herself,” Pontius said grimly. “She likely hid it for so long, that she didn't even realize what she was. It happens all the time...people who go their whole lives, hiding it, repressing it, convincing themselves as much as those around them that they are something that they are not.”

“If I had known Cass was going through such a plight, I would have supported her,” Rapunzel said, sounding defensive. “I would not have pushed her away or told her that she was disgusting or anything like that.”

Pontius held up his hands placatingly. “I believe you, Princess. I was not trying to imply that you would do anything of the sort. The point I am trying to make, in my usual roundabout way, is that the love that you share together, while not as clean or idyllic as with Eugene Fitzherbert, is still something that runs as deep and true. Allow me to pose another question, if I may: if things had been different, and you had all come home, and Cassandra had told you of her feelings...would you have reciprocated them?”

It was a question that she could not answer, at least not honestly...which made her feel all the worse, as she had spent all this time chastising Pontius about how bad it was to lie and that honesty was always the best course of action. But she couldn't tell the truth, for more than one reason. One, that would mean confessing that she did love Cassandra, but also, she wasn't sure if she would've reciprocated back then.

Everything had changed so drastically, so quickly, over the past couple weeks. Among the more obvious changes to Corona and the people who either fled or still remained, there was the fact that she had discovered that she had feelings for the former handmaid in that time. As if everything wasn't complicated and conflicting enough already!

“...I think I am going to add 'any talk of Cass' to the list of things I don't want to talk about right now,” she said after a time. “Along with politics, religion, and weddings...”

“I understand completely,” Pontius assured her. “You do not have to answer anything you don't want to, nor do you have to talk about such weighty matters all the time; least of all at this hour! Pray tell, though, Princess...what would you like to talk about?”

She wasn't exactly sure if she wanted to talk about anything, but then, she remembered that she hadn't been able to talk to anyone about anything for so long now, and while she didn't have a precise subject matter in mind, she very much wanted to have some kind of conversation.

“Tell me about art,” she requested, deciding that that of all things was a topic that couldn't make her feel dread or melancholy or madness. “Any kind will do. I like to paint, though I am not professionally trained, nor am I familiar with the world of famous painters. The same goes for music and singing—I like to do both, despite being woefully ignorant.”

Pontius smiled tightly, looking quite pleased with the change in topic. “Well, when it comes to discussing the arts as a whole, I am all too happy to talk about it. Like you, I am a bit of a painter myself, though I can hardly find the time to paint more than a basic fruit bowl or a portrait. As for singing...I'm afraid I can't hold a candle to you in that regard.”

He paused, then snapped his fingers. “Oh! The pastries should be about ready to take out by now,” he exclaimed, using the potholders to carefully remove the baking tray from the oven.

Rapunzel watched as he set the tray down, joining him in inspecting the pain au chocolat. They looked perfect—not burnt nor under-baked. And, of course, they smelled simply divine.

“Let's prepare the next batch,” she declared, eager to busy her mind with the menial task. “And...um...tell me who some of your favorite artists are.”

“As you wish, Princess,” Pontius replied. “Now, as for a list of my favorite artists, I can probably narrow it down to a top ten...”

They talked while they went to work making the next batch of pastries. Pontius spoke a lot of the time, as was to be expected, but to her surprise, he also let her talk, too. He listened to her patiently, even when she prattled or went on tangents about any and every thought that flitted through her troubled mind.

The topics changed frequently and on the flip of a coin. One moment she was talking about how she always wanted to write her own songs, and another she was lamenting how there weren't many museums in Corona; certainly not like those found in the places around the world that Pontius had told her about.

While she hadn't read that many books in her life, she enjoyed listening to a few of the summaries that Pontius explained from some of the stories he'd found memorable. Gulliver's Travels, Robinson Crusoe, Macbeth, Paradise Lost, Beowulf, as well as a few others... They all sounded interesting and exciting to her hungry imagination. Fantasy and the like weren't looked upon very favorably, especially when it came to young Princesses who should not have had any interest in such silly, nonsensical things.

But oh, how she longed for the silly and the whimsical; for the outrageous and the unbelievable. The kinds of stories that inspired awe, and those that made you misty eyed, even long after reading them. Books that made you cheer and laugh, books that made you cry and feel sympathy for the characters going through their own hardships...

Painting techniques were never something she had really given much thought about, as she had always assumed that by simply picking up a brush and striking colors onto a canvas—or a wall, or a pillar, or other places where it was not conventional to have a painting—made you a painter. But apparently, that was not quite the case, or at least, it was a hotly contested topic in the world of painting. She had no idea people could be so...pretentious about art, and when she voiced her opinion saying just that, Pontius laughed heartily and agreed that it was quite absurd how some people seemed intent to keep people out of certain areas of the art world.

“...Ah, yes, when it comes to foreign and exotic places...I have walked along each of the four corners of the world,” Pontius was saying as he recounted his many and varied travels to her.

“But the world doesn't have any corners...” Rapunzel said with a bit of a wry smile, knowing full well that it was just a common turn of phrase.

Pontius chuckled lightly. “Indeed it does not. To think there was once a time when people believed the earth was flat as a chessboard! How far we have come since those dark days of ignorance.”

The blonde felt a strange mix of embarrassment and sadness at that last part of his words. Embarrassment that she herself was still so ignorant of so many things, and sadness in knowing that despite how much progress there had been over the ages, things were still far from ideal. Was progress always going to be so slow, measured in decades and centuries? Or could changes be made on a faster, more streamlined timetable?

She knew what Pontius would have told her as his answer—that drastic changes required drastic actions. Hence his allegiance with Cassandra, an all powerful monarch who could truly change the world as she saw fit. She hated to think that he could actually advise Cass to do such awful things to create such a world.

She hated to think that he might be right.

“How many countries have you visited?” she asked, wanting to shirk off the disturbing, intrusive thoughts once more.

Pontius cleared his throat before taking a sip from his flask. “I have personally marveled the old works in Paris, rowed through the canals of Venice, hiked up the Andes mountains, rode trains and horses throughout wild America, sailed the seas that are still uncharted... Some of the lands I have visited cannot even be counted as 'countries', as they are either too young or too decimated by war to the point where the border lines become less apparent. Needless to say, I have seen much of this world and its peoples; the good and the bad, the wondrous and the horrifying.

Many places are becoming more and more 'civilized', for lack of a better word, but some still retain their ancient roots and traditions. This is a good thing, at least in my opinion, as a country should have its own distinct identity.

On the other hand, some countries are seemingly incapable of change, and stubbornly refuse to adapt to an ever changing world, to its own detriment. England, for example, is one such country stuck in the past, mired in its old days of glory that are long since behind it. I doubt we will ever see the likes of another King Henry V from them ever again...”

Rapunzel wished she could visit such distant lands herself. Her own travels during the previous year had only seemed to whet her wanderlust, which had always been there in the back of her consciousness ever since she was still trapped within her tower and dreamed of setting out for adventures.

There was one thing that she thought was odd after listening to him, however... Something that simply could not be overlooked.

“You say you've traveled to all these places, but I've seen maps of the globe... The distances between all those countries and regions are vast, and traveling even by ship can take months. To have visited them all would take years...and you don't look like you're that old. How could you have had the time to have traveled to so many distant lands, while also having been Corona's Royal Adviser for years before I returned home to my parents?”

The strange man gave a snort of bemusem*nt, as if he'd just been caught with his hand in a cookie jar. “...Very astute, Princess. It would indeed take a person many years to trek the routes I have taken. Tell me, what do you think could be a possible explanation for such a discrepancy?”

Rapunzel finished neatly rolling yet another pastry—it felt good, making something with her own two hands again. “The simplest explanation is that you're lying...again,” she said, though her own voice didn't sound too confident in that theory. “Or maybe you've yet to reveal your full hand, and possess some kind of magic that lets you travel a lot without all the time needed to do so. I don't know much about magic stuff myself, but Varian was able to make a portal thing that could transport you to different dimensions, so...it's possible that similar devices exist.”

She was met with more laughter—not condescending, but rather just amused.

“Oh, if only I had such a portal myself!” Pontius exclaimed. “Imagine, being able to be whisked away to places like Peru, China, Arabia, Africa, all in the span of a leisurely afternoon! What a wonderful convenience that would be. However, from what Cassandra has relayed to me of young Varian's astonishing account within the Netherworld dimension, I would have to ultimately concede that playing with such great powers is too dangerous, with the risks far outweighing the rewards...”

He almost sounded concerned about it, as though he knew something more regarding the Trans-Dimensional Portal that she, Varian, and the others had gone through great pains to discover in order to subdue Zhan Tiri. Had Cass not killed the warlock and she was successful in robbing her of the Moonstone, Rapunzel wasn't sure if they would've been able to defeat the little imp. There really hadn't been much of a 'plan B', in hindsight, and they'd banked all of their hopes for success on Varian's portal.

“Catalina told me about that,” she murmured. “She, Keira, Varian, Lance and a few others were briefly trapped in the Netherworld on the day of the eclipse. It sounded awful...but then, if it is supposed to be some sort of prison, I guess it would make sense that it wouldn't be a very nice place to be...”

Pontius nodded in agreement, his face becoming quite serious.“Yes...the realms beyond our own dimension should be left alone. One never knows what terrible dangers might be lurking just beneath the surface of humanity's fathomless ignorance...”

He trailed off, before shaking his head and smiling sheepishly. “Ah, sorry...that probably strays into the subject matters that you called off limits earlier,” he apologized. “No heavy or dreary topics in the kitchen, right?”

Rapunzel nodded in return, though a part of her wanted to ask him to further elaborate as to what the hell he was talking about. Despite literally being born as a magical being and owing her very life to magic, she did not know much about it, nor about the kinds of things Varian was knowledgeable about for that matter. The young alchemist had always been quick to point out that there was a distinct difference between magic and science, but from all the crazy things she had witnessed over the past couple years, she was inclined to believe that the line between the two could often be blurred.

She decided against it, of course—she had more than enough on her mind as it was, and adding potential dangers from the great beyond that she couldn't even see would only make her want to pull her hair out even more.

“Yes, you're right,” she told him quietly. “So, instead...let us talk abouuut...music. Tell me about the great composers of the world. I only know of a few, but I am eager to learn more.”

Pontius was more than willing to indulge her, talking about everything from symphonies and sonatas, to quartets and interludes. She recognized some of the more famous names that he listed off from those early days of her studies—Mozart, Beethoven, Bach—but there were many who she did not, and she wished she had some kind of means to listen to their works. Unfortunately, she was not in possession of any musical instruments, nor any musicians who could play said instruments for her, and thus she had to make do with Pontius' humming as a point of reference.

He wasn't bad at it, at least, and she was even almost tempted to start singing herself at one point. She had always been an innately musical person, even if a majority of her life had been spent singing mostly to herself. It was one of the few ways she found she could truly relax or find cheer even in the gloomier parts of life. Had she sung even once since the day of the eclipse, when she had found herself in Cassandra's old bedroom, yearning for the days when they'd been closer?

Maybe that part of her life was over, at least for now. Singing had been something she had loved, but ever since this ordeal with Cass had started, she had found that she just didn't much feel like singing anymore.

“...We really must reopen Corona's theater as soon as possible,” Pontius was saying as they finished cleaning up the mess they had made during baking. “A kingdom bereft of music is no kingdom at all, I say. Perhaps after things have smoothed over, we could have a concert played in order to celebrate the new age of Ca...er...”

He floundered for a moment, wincing at his own flub before shrugging apologetically. She just shook her head—she didn't blame him for bringing up 'the C word'. Some things could only be avoided for so long, and with someone whose presence was currently as unavoidable as the moon itself now sitting on Corona's throne, it was folly to keep trying.

Oh well. It'd been fun while it lasted, albeit briefly.

“I'm sure I could talk Cass into organizing something like that, if you aren't able to convince her first,” she said, somewhat sarcastically. The thought of ordering people to perform and pretend that they were taking part in some kind of joyous event made her cringe inwardly. Music was not something that could be forced, and she knew enough about the current state of Corona's populace that no one would be remotely happy enough to sing and play in some kind of celebratory concert.

“Forgive me, Your Highness. I did not mean to--”

“It's fine,” Rapunzel sighed. Then she had a thought, one that she spoke aloud. “But, if you want to make it up to me, then you can do me a favor.”

Pontius raised his brows curiously. “Oh? And what might that be?”

“I want you to give this to Cass when you go and see her in your secret little meeting,” she told him dryly, wrapping one of the cooled pastries in a piece of parchment paper before handing it to him. “And tell her that I want to speak with her later, in my room. If she can spare a few moments on her wife's behalf.”

“My, I feel like a schoolboy, running errands between two hapless students who have crushes on each other,” Pontius said coyly. If he was annoyed or felt that it was beneath him to partake in such an admittedly childish request, he didn't show it; taking the pain au chocolat without complaint. “Does this mean that I have your permission to 'snitch' on you to Cassandra for being up and about so early?”

Rapunzel snorted, rolling her eyes. “Yes, you may tell on me to Cass. I just hope she doesn't overreact when she hears that I got up earlier than usual.”

“I will see to it that she does not! Rest assured, both your gift and your message shall be delivered to her, post haste,” he told her congenially.

“Good. I think we're done here,” she said curtly, noticing that the kitchen staff were beginning to enter the room, looking quite confused at the presence of the Princess and the weird man who were already occupying the kitchen at such an early hour. She wanted to just walk away then and there, to carry on with her day of spending time with Catalina and being avoided by Cass, but...

It just wasn't in her nature to be this cold to people. Even when she was in such a precarious situation, even when she felt awful. Even if it was towards people like Pontius.

“...And...thank you. For listening to me,” she added softly. “I liked baking and learning about things from you, even if you tend to talk too much at times...”

Pontius gave her a bow in return, unoffended by that last part. “Think nothing of it, Princess. It was my pleasure. I would say that we should do this again sometime, however, I think it would be better if it was Cassandra, not me, who was here with you. I realize that she was never much of a fan of cooking, but...you two used to do everything together. She should be there for you, now more than ever.”

“When she gives up this crazy quest for world domination, maybe we can do some of the little things together again,” Rapunzel retorted, gathering some of the pastries, as well as a few other food items, into a small basket. Catalina would be hungry, and since she avoided the kitchens like the plague, the blonde would take the food to her.

The Royal Adviser looked like he wanted to reply to that comment, but said nothing, his expression showing a hint of sadness. Perhaps he still had a shred of a conscience left and felt bad about what he was enabling, or maybe he just felt sorry for her in particular that she had to be caught up in this madness.

“I should go and relay that message now, before Cassandra begins to think that I've committed desertion,” he said jokingly. “Take care of yourself, Your Highness. Tomorrow might feel daunting to think about, but I promise that it will be a day that none shall soon forget. Everyone loves a good wedding, even if this particular one isn't as...traditional. Nevertheless, I believe it will be an event that will bring some much needed merriment to those who still feel doubt towards Cassandra's New Corona. Heavens! We still need to acquire a bloody wedding cake! I'm sure that will be yet another errand that will fall to me, last minute...”

Rapunzel said nothing, simply watching the strange man muttering half to himself before he eventually disappeared through the kitchen doors. Despite his eccentricities, she could not deny that he was good at keeping track of things. Having so many responsibilities did not sound like her idea of a fun life...which was painfully funny, considering that she herself was a literal Princess. The fairy tale books had never thoroughly gone into detail about just how many responsibilities and work and stress went into being a sovereign; all she had known—or really cared about—was that Princesses wore crowns and pretty dresses and sat on fancy chairs in front of a bunch of people to tell them what to do.

It had only been after she returned to Corona those years ago when she'd learned that the Princess life was not all fun and games. If she hadn't learned that from before, then she would've definitely learned it by now. Having so many people count on you to make things right, even in the face of such a 'problem' like Cass...it was so f*cking tiresome. Cass had no idea what she was getting herself into by becoming a Queen. If she was lucky, maybe the responsibilities and the tedious paperwork and headaches from dealing with people everyday would make her give up peacefully and surrender the Moonstone and Sundrop.

Yeah. That'd be great. Unfortunately, she knew Cass better than anyone, and the woman was all about hard work and taking responsibility and toughing it out. Her stubbornness, her unyielding nature, her stoic poise...

Those were just some of the qualities that she loved about her.

Shaking away those pesky Cass related thoughts, Rapunzel greeted, apologized, and bid farewell to Verner and the other cooks before taking her own leave. She thought about attempting to sneak into the throne room where Cassandra was no doubt holding her very important meeting, but she had tried to do so before and had been met with a literal wall—that wall being a solid slab of black rocks that kept anyone who wasn't invited out. Including herself, apparently. Whatever Cass was talking about behind closed doors, it was serious enough to make her want to exclude her own 'wife' from the conversation.

Serious...or bad. Probably both.

While she couldn't do much to help many people at this point, there was still someone who she could help...if only a little. Catalina might've been a former thief, and was a terrifying werewolf, but she was a good girl who didn't deserve any of what was happening to her. And although Rapunzel could not cure her lycan curse or undo the trauma she had gone through on the night of the eclipse, she could still be there for her as a friend.

For now, that would have to be enough. For the both of them.

And so, she put on her best 'quirky, bubbly Princess' mask before knocking on the redhead's door, and when it slowly swung open, she did her best impression of who she used to be; smiling her best smile for dear Catalina's sake.

“Good morning! I hope you're hungry, because I've got this basket full of yummy treats for us to share...!”

–

In the glow of the afternoon sun, sitting outside upon a wooden bench, Cassandra took a moment from sharpening her sword to look around at the people who she would one day serve as a Royal Guard.

Sometimes she just liked to do this, to just sit and observe people going about their day to day lives. They were different from those who lived in and around the castle, from the way they dressed, to the way they carried themselves; being far less formal and unafraid to shout out orders or requests or even just a very hearty greeting. Having been raised by the Royal Guard Captain, she'd spent much of her life in the palace grounds, and thus knew everything about the etiquette and the do's and don'ts of the people who were supposed to be a 'cut above' the rest of the masses. Many who grew up in the upper crust tended to remain there, as most folk did not see the point of leaving their cushy little bubbles; certainly not to mingle with commoners!

Of course, Cassandra had never been someone who could be contained; not by anything or anyone. She roamed wherever she pleased, be it the streets of south Corona where the peddlers and pick pockets reigned, or the woodlands beyond the city where the only company one could expect were the trees and the wildlife. The warrior woman preferred the latter destination, as there was a peacefulness to it that helped to ease her oft troubled mind.

Stoic and steadfast on the surface, beneath it all was a sort of anger that lied dormant, like an old caldera that hadn't flared to life in millennia. At twenty two years old now, Cassandra was beginning to feel the frayed claws of impatience digging into her. She'd been training nearly nonstop for most of her life, was the best warrior in Corona, and, most recently, she was now the lady-in-waiting for Princess Rapunzel herself. The accolades were all there for everyone to see, and yet she felt like she was stuck spinning her wheels in the mud.

If she had been a man instead of a woman, she had no doubt that they'd be lauding her as a prodigy with the natural talent to lead and command, and Father himself would have made her the youngest member of the Royal Guard's history without a second thought. Hell, the rank of Captain would've all but been assured to her!

Such brash, frustrated thoughts were unbecoming of a disciplined warrior. Patience...she just had to have patience, and everything would work out in the end. Good things came to those who waited, and she would wait for as long as it took. Because her destiny would be worth it.

Cassandra took a deep breath, exhaling slowly. She would not let her thoughts distract her or weigh her down. Calmness...she needed to remain calm and collected at all times. No matter how much more work had been thrust upon her after becoming a lady-in-waiting.

Princess Rapunzel was not at all what she'd been expecting. She had first assumed that she'd be saddled with an invalid, a troubled young girl who had been damaged beyond repair from eighteen years of isolation and abuse at the hands of a witch. While she was certainly...'eccentric' in many ways, Rapunzel was also spirited and sharp, having an eagerness to learn more about the world around her. Those years without human interaction—because Cassandra did not count that cruel old witch as human—had not dampened her ability to be compassionate or empathetic whatsoever. In fact, it was almost jarring just how openly kind and caring she could be.

Still, even so...she was a queer little thing. Never wearing shoes, even when venturing out of the castle where there were no plush carpets to keep her dainty soles clean and safe from injury. It had forced Cassandra to constantly keep an eye out ahead of the energetic girl's erratic path when traveling together with her, as she would always fret that the Princess would step on a stray piece of broken glass or a rusty nail or some other horrible thing that was just waiting to embed itself within Rapunzel's fleshy underfoot. Which would then make everyone look to her lady-in-waiting to blame for letting such a thing happen while under her watch.

And then there was the singing. The strange girl absolutely loved to sing, often making up her own lyrics or just humming a tune that had come from not a pre-existing song or other musical piece, but from within her own pretty little head. It could be a bit much for the swordswoman who usually preferred silence to bear, but...Cassandra had to admit that she had a rather pleasant singing voice. So at the very least, there was that.

The worst part about being around the Princess, however, had nothing at all to do with the Princess herself. Rather, it was the fact that most of the time, Flynn Rider—or 'Eugene Fitzherbert', as he was now going by—was almost always in the girl's company. Which meant she was almost always around Eugene. Which meant...she was almost always irritated.

Rapunzel was bright, Rapunzel was clever, but oh, Rapunzel was also so very naive for letting a sleazebag like Fitzherbert be her boyfriend. Maybe she was just mesmerized by the rogue's good looks, as many women apparently found him to be handsome, at least from the gossip she'd heard almost nonstop from the handmaids around the castle ever since the couple had waltzed into Corona those weeks ago.

Cassandra didn't find him remotely attractive, however. Although, to be fair, she couldn't ever remember finding men in general attractive in her life, so...there was probably just something wrong with her. Either way, seeing them kiss and act all lovey dovey with each other was repulsive. Being the Princess' lady-in-waiting was a great honor, but being a third wheel was not something she had signed up for.

The more she thought about it, the more it didn't add up, though. Rapunzel didn't seem to be the type who would be shallow enough to be in a relationship with someone purely because she found them attractive. She claimed that she loved him, sometimes even babbling casually in her ear about how having a boyfriend was so great. Cassandra never knew how to respond to such things, as she had never had a boyfriend herself. Father had tried many times in the past to court her with some guy, and naturally, she had scared every one of them off simply by being herself.

It wasn't like she hadn't gotten along with some of them, though. She even found that she had more in common with some men than she did with women. But the idea of being anything other than friends with a man...of being intimate with one, like Rapunzel was with Eugene...it made her skin crawl. She had tried to push those feelings of disgust down, to bury her distaste for men and tell herself that she was 'into' them, but she'd failed miserably. You could only be a phony for so long before everyone saw how disingenuous you were and rightly cut ties with you.

There was something almost embarrassing about still being single at twenty two, while an eighteen year old—who had only recently stepped out into the world for the first time, mind you—had bagged a man with little to no effort. Not that Cassandra wanted to be in a relationship, of course. Even if she did, she would never be able to make time for a lover; not with how busy her life was. Thus, any relationship that she might've attempted to start would only crumble in the end, as she would always choose her training and her duty over a man and his wants.

That being said...her life had certainly become a hell of a lot busier lately. Princess-sitting, on top of handmaid work, on top of Royal Guard training...it was enough to make her feel like her head was spinning. Sometimes, she felt like there just weren't enough hours in the day.

True, it was not easy to balance her work life and...her second work life, but she was more than up to the task. She was Cassandra: tougher than nails, breaker of limits, the person you wanted in your corner and could depend on.

She could—and would—do it all. Without complaint, without fail. And she would get what was owed to her someday, after all of the toiling and hardships. Someday...

She resumed sharpening her blade, the simple and repetitive task of scraping the whetstone against the steel helping to keep her mind focused. Silly and strange as it might have been to an outsider's perspective, she found the drudgery of upkeeping her weapons to be rather satisfying. Aside from her animal friends, her weapons were her only real companions...as sad and pathetic as that sounded. They needed constant care and attention, from keeping them sharp via whetstone, to preventing rust from creeping in via oil.

Of course, when it came to animals versus weapons, animals automatically won out every time. When a sword broke or an axe dulled, you could just replace them with another. Animals, on the other hand, were irreplaceable. There was only one Owl, only one Fidella, and while many small minded fools might try and tell her that there were plenty of owls and horses out there, Cassandra knew in her heart that none of them could ever take the place of her friends.

Friends... Forgoing a boyfriend was something that she could readily explain her reasoning to others, but forgoing friends altogether was...difficult to give any specific reasoning for. It wasn't like she had any enemies or rivals or anything—she got along well enough with the Royal Guards, and Queen Arianna had always been someone she had admired.

But strong, lasting relationships with others was something she had never known. Forming bonds and making conversation beyond tedious small talk felt impossible to her; when she wasn't bored with someone, the other person usually made any excuse to escape her presence, as they were intimidated by her blunt and bold demeanor.

Perhaps some folk just weren't meant to have friends. It wasn't the first time she'd felt such a sentiment, and likely wouldn't be the last. Being alone didn't bother her much, as she worked better by herself. But when she wasn't working or training...well...that was where Fidella or Owl came in. They listened to her and let her vent without judgment or complaint. Surely they could be enough without the need to seek out any human friends, who would only end up disappointing or even hurt her in the end.

Cassandra took another deep breath, held it in for a moment, and then nearly coughed in alarm when she caught a familiar figure out of the corner of her eye. No...it couldn't be...not out here--

And yet, it was. Princess Rapunzel was out and about, walking in her typical wayward fashion as she drifted this way and that, akin to a leaf on the breeze. Flynn—Eugene was doing his best to keep up with her, though she could see it was clearly a losing battle even from this distance. What the hell were they doing at this part of the city, at this time of day??

She briefly considered standing to her feet and making a hasty retreat before the manic pixie Princess and her 'reformed' boy toy had a chance to spot her, but before she could even finish the thought, she knew it was already too late.

Rapunzel made eye contact with her, pointed her finger in her direction, began waving her arms about exuberantly, and her fate was sealed.

“Why me...?” Cassandra muttered to herself under her breath, hastily attempting to put on her best 'socially adept member of society' mask so that the Princess didn't catch sight of the bitter, curmudgeonly woman that lied beneath. It wasn't as though she hated the girl—her feelings towards her were ambivalent at worst. Rapunzel was, by all accounts, a very pleasant person to be around, being sunny and friendly and outgoing.

She was also just...a lot to deal with. Especially when she had to be around her everyday. For hours. Listening to anything and everything that flitted through her mind.

“Cass!” Rapunzel yelled excitedly, practically charging towards her. “Hi! Did you see us over there? I waved at you, but wasn't sure you noticed, so I came over here just to make sure!”

“I guess I must've just missed you,” Cassandra lied. She hated liars, hated lying herself—so why did she just lie like that? “...I wasn't expecting to see you out here, Princess. What brings you to this side of town?”

Rapunzel just smiled and shrugged, as if she herself didn't know the answer to that question. “I wanted to explore more of Corona, more than just the palace grounds, so that's what I decided to do. Eugene came along to keep an eye on me, even though it was hard to get him to leave the castle, cause he likes to eat and laze about. But once I told him that he was starting to look a bit fat, he was quick to run after me.”

She giggled, leaning in closer to whisper mischievously, “I lied, though! He isn't actually getting fat.”

Cassandra stared at her, blinked, then attempted to give an appropriate response.

“That's...something.”

Well...it was certainly a response, at least.

If her lack of enthusiasm managed to dampen the excitable brunette's spirit, she didn't show it. Instead, her green eyes darted down to her sword, and her face lit up with intrigue.

“Ooh! That's a very nice sword, Cass. Um...what are you doing with it? I noticed you were scraping that rock against it before...”

“Yeah...” Cassandra cleared her throat awkwardly, shifting a bit on the bench after she'd noticed she hadn't moved a muscle since being ensnared by the Princess' attentions. She really was a pretty little thing—if nothing else, she couldn't fault Eugene for falling for her so hard and so fast. Being her lady-in-waiting for the past couple weeks or so now, she'd gotten plenty of time to see the young sovereign up close and personal, so it wasn't like she had just noticed that Rapunzel was beautiful.

But out here, away from the trappings of the castle and outside under the afternoon sun...she looked...well, radiant. Happier, even, if such a thing was possible. It made sense, when she stopped to think about it. Having been locked away inside a tower for eighteen years, it only made sense that she would look happier when walking freely outdoors.

...Wait, what was happening again? Oh, right. It was time to answer the Princess' question, and no doubt bore her with the mundanity of her life's day to day activities.

“I was just sharpening the blade a bit. This rock is called a whetstone—it's made of a special material that is perfect for keeping weapons and other tools from dulling.”

She fully expected the girl's eyes to glaze over with boredom—Princesses and commoner drudgery did not mix, after all—but she was surprised to see that she looked interested in what she had to say.

“Wow! I had no idea that was a thing,” Rapunzel told her, sounding somewhat bashful at her own ignorance. “To be honest, I kinda just assumed that swords and the like just...remained sharp forever after being made. The closest thing I could compare it to was some cutlery that I had access to in my tower. Sometimes those would dull a bit, but...I dunno, I guess I thought that it would be stupid to equate a sword with a bread knife...”

Cassandra found herself smirking. This girl was so naive—understandably so, given her circ*mstances—but there was something almost endearing about it.

“No...it isn't stupid, really,” she assured her. “Kitchen tools and weapons are different, sure, but they're more alike than not. Both can rust, and both can get dull. Plus, you can easily make a weapon out of kitchenware if the moment calls for it—even a bread knife.”

“Why am I not surprised to find you talking about weapons and violence to the literal Princess?” Eugene asked exasperatedly as he jogged up to them.

“I'm just answering a question that the literal Princess asked me,” Cassandra retorted evenly, folding her arms over her chest. She still wasn't used to having to put up with Eugene and his bullsh*t, and would have preferred to not be anywhere near him, the they were kind of a packaged deal—he was with Rapunzel, and her job was to tend to Rapunzel and protect her. Thus...she was stuck with the 'former' rogue.

“It's okay, Eugene, really,” Rapunzel said in an effort to placate him. “I was just curious about what Cass was doing, is all. It's actually quite interesting!”

Eugene looked from Rapunzel, to Cassandra, his eyes still showing doubt and more than a hint of protectiveness for his girlfriend. “...You aren't gonna give her a sword or anything, are you?” he asked with a grimace. “I don't want to have to tell the King that his daughter poked her eye out or something while flailing a weapon around...”

Cassandra rolled her eyes. “Of course not. I do not allow any weapons to be handled by those who are either unworthy or too inexperienced to wield them. Besides, Rapunzel is a Princess—I am not so stupid or brutish as to endanger the one person I have sworn to protect.”

“Yeah, just making sure,” Eugene said, the two of them locking glares now. “You have your job, and I have mine...which is to make sure she doesn't fall under the sway of any bad influences.”

“Ohoho! YOU'RE one to talk!” Cassandra exclaimed with a sneer. “Your past crimes may have been pardoned, but don't think they'll ever be forgotten. If anyone's a bad influence here, it's--”

“Oh, here we go again! You just can't help but to bring up all my past mistakes every single time we meet. Is the concept of redemption, of change, so far beyond you? Or are you just intentionally acting like they are because you hate me specifically?”

“Heh. You've got a lot of conceit, thinking that I'd give a damn about you enough to warrant my hate. Trust me, Fitzherbert, if I hated you, you'd definitely know it.”

“Could've fooled me! I swear, if looks could kill, you'd--”

Both of them paused as Rapunzel stepped between them, giving a sharp whistle between her fingers.

“Come on, guys, do you have to always argue like this?” the Princess asked, sounding exasperated herself now. “I know you've got a lot of, uh...differences, but...can't we all just get along?”

Cassandra almost laughed at how naive and childish the girl's simple plea sounded, but her sardonic mindset faded as she felt...bad. Not for arguing with Eugene—she would always relish putting him and his ego in their place whenever she got the chance.

But Rapunzel...she meant well, and didn't deserve to be stuck in the middle of the two of them bickering.

“You're right,” Cassandra spoke up after a moment. “We do have a lot of differences. I can't promise that we will ever see eye to eye or whatever, but...”

“We'll try to dial it back a bit,” Eugene finished, looking embarrassed for having caused his girlfriend any distress. “Right, Cass?”

She cringed, finding that she didn't like it when he called her 'Cass'. She'd gotten used to Rapunzel calling her that, though she was the only person she could tolerate giving her any sort of moniker. Coming from anyone else, it just sounded...weird.

Pushing that minor annoyance down, she reluctantly nodded. “Yeah...right.”

Seemingly mollified for the time being, Rapunzel was all smiles again. “Good! Now that all that unpleasantness is behind us, I was going to ask if you'd like to join us, Cass!”

Eugene balked, doing a double take at the Princess' words. “Huh? Wait, wha--”

“I know this is one of your days off,” Rapunzel continued, ignoring the former rogue's sputtering, “and you don't have to come along if you don't want to. This isn't an order or a command or anything. It's...a request.”

Cassandra stared at her, at a loss for what to say. While it was indeed one of her days off, she wasn't the type of person who tended to waste any time. Unlike Eugene, she did not laze about or indulge herself with reckless abandon; if she wasn't doing handmaid work or being a lady-in-waiting, she was training, or studying, or maintaining weapons, or a plethora of other things that would always keep her busy. To live was to work, and to work was to live.

Even if she didn't live by that motto, though, she wasn't thrilled with the idea of going anywhere with Eugene involved. Although she'd just assured Rapunzel that she would try her best to cut back on tearing into her boyfriend, she knew it would only be a matter of time before they were at each other's throats again. Metaphorically, of course.

On the other hand...looking up at the Princess' face, her expression so earnest and hopeful...it stirred something deep within her bosom. The kindness of a goodhearted girl who reached out to her...it reminded her of someone, though she could not place who. A memory from long ago attempted to resurface, but it was...blurry, obscured; as if enshrouded by a dense fog.

Well. Whatever this reminded her of, it wasn't making itself known to her, much to her frustration. But the feeling...the feeling that it evoked was...nice. Perhaps that was enough to sway her decision.

That, and knowing that her presence would bother Eugene.

“...Sure, I'll tag along,” Cassandra replied with an easy smile, standing to her feet and placing her sword back within its scabbard. “I could tell you about a lot of stuff around these parts, if you're that curious to learn about the lower reaches of your kingdom.”

Rapunzel beamed, looking positively ecstatic. “Thank you so much! Oh, I just know we'll have such fun together today!”

“If it's the lower, grittier parts of a city that you wanna know about, I'm literally your guy,” Eugene pointed out matter of factly. “Unlike Miss Law and Order here, I actually grew up on the streets. And as a former criminal, I have a lot of insights that you just wouldn't be able to get elsewhere.”

“Now, now, no one's competing here, Eugene,” Rapunzel said with a laugh. “Both of you can tell me all about this and that and the other. Between the two of you, I'm sure I'll learn a whole lot more than what they try to teach me at the palace! Let's go!”

Cassandra wasn't sure exactly what she had gotten herself into by agreeing to accompany the feisty Princess, but as she walked alongside her and they explored and talked together, she discovered something quite remarkable: she wasn't bored out of her mind or regretful of her decision. Even with Eugene butting in with his own bullsh*t from time to time.

On the contrary, she almost felt something akin to...joy; something she thought was only possible when she was wielding a sword or firing an arrow or generally partaking in some sort of violence based activity. But there was no violence, no thrill of battle, no great laborious feat or show of prowess involved here.

There was only Rapunzel, talking to her and listening to her and somehow being genuinely interested in what she had to say. She didn't look at her like she was a freak for wearing pants, didn't judge her for preferring swords over parasols or boots over heels. Perhaps stranger still was the fact that Cassandra wasn't bored or put off by listening to her and her admittedly more girly interests. She was so lively and spoke so passionately that it was almost infectious.

Maybe this weird girl was alright, after all.

–

In the perpetual moody gloom of the throne room, sitting upon her throne of jagged obsidian, Cassandra looked down upon her black rock sword as she went through the motions of sharpening it with a whetstone. There had once been a time when such an activity had helped to clear her mind by focusing on the repetitive, mundane task, but that was no longer the case.

She knew it was pointless to treat her daunting black blade like a normal weapon—black rocks did not dull or break like mortal weapons of iron and steel. They didn't even erode over time like normal rocks did. The Moonstone's power that had given her the edge to win over Rapunzel and Zhan Tiri alike was unnatural, materializing perfect, unbreakable stone that would never falter or fail her.

Still...old habits died hard, as they said. She'd found herself doing the same thing back in her black rock tower, when she'd been holding Varian captive. It hadn't helped her then, and it wasn't helping her now. The familiar feel of a traditional sword, the comforting smell of the steel and oil...it was all absent in the black rock sword that she now wielded.

Cassandra sneered, shaking the worthless, sentimental thoughts away. None of that mattered anymore. This new weapon was far better than anything she had ever used in the past. It was unbreakable, insusceptible to rust or the dulling of the passage of time. Much like she herself now was.

If she looked closely, she could see her reflection within the glassy surface of the blade sneering back at her. It certainly didn't look like the face of a person who had everything: power, respect, the heart of the girl who she loved. Right now, she only had one out of three of those things, as her power could only really make people fear her rather than give any kind of real respect. Some might have claimed that fear and respect were not so different, but to her, they were like night and day.

And then there was Rapunzel. She had forced her into this, hoping that she would come around and see that they belonged together, but so far, all she'd managed to do was make the blonde stressed, depressed, and restless. Maybe things would improve after the wedding, after some time had passed and their marriage had a chance to develop.

But before their destines could become entwined in holy matrimony, she had to go through the process of making both the wedding and her own coronation a reality. And that...was proving to be a huge f*cking headache.

Stabbing the black rock sword into the floor, it sank into the inky surface, disappearing for the time being until she decided when to next call it forth once again. The time for playing with weapons was not now.

Now was the time for a meeting, which would begin...soon.

Her subjects would soon be attending her in the early hours of the morning, her glowing eyes staring at the obsidian doors silently and unblinkingly as she waited for all to be present. Currently there were five people altogether who were loyal to her and that she trusted enough with letting work unattended under her command.

Pontius Maximilian the Third, a strange but cunning man who had somehow become her Royal Adviser, and would be the one who would ultimately anoint and wed her to Rapunzel by tomorrow. While she was not fond of his eccentricity and how he tended to babble too much about any and all manner of things, she could not argue with his results. Even if she still felt like he was hiding something from her.

Then there was Bernard, a quiet and imposing man who she had made Captain of her fledgling Obsidian Order. A veritable giant, his strength was unmatched, which only made the mighty Claymore that he wielded all the more devastating. Although he was not much of a talker, she probably preferred his company over all the others in Pontius' clandestine cabal, though his lack of words was likely the very reason for said preference...

Henrietta, the poised and graceful assassin whom she had ordered to keep a close watch over Rapunzel due to her magical rings that allowed her to go undetected. Cassandra would have preferred to watch over her beloved Princess herself, but there simply wasn't enough time to devote the proper amount of focus necessary for keeping the girl safe. Her attentions were being stretched thin with all the work of keeping the peace and preparing for her coronation wedding, so Henrietta had been quite the godsend with her unique talents.

Old Jonas, her mentor from her teenage years who had led a failed coup against her the other week, and was now a strategist and tactician in these chaotic times. How surreal it felt, to have the man who had trained her and who she had once confided in be here now in the present. He'd been like a second father to her, for a brief period of time, before she had forsaken the concept of friends and companions after having lost Medina and Hanna in such a cruel and unjust way. She was no longer that angst ridden teen who had suffered in loneliness, and while she did not trust him, she knew she could make use of his years of experience nevertheless.

And, last but not least, Mrs. Crowley, whose handmaids acted as her eyes and ears not only within the castle, but out in the city as well. Their relationship had always been rather strained, as Cassandra had loathed her time as a handmaid, a time made all the more difficult by the high standards of old Scowley Crowley. In spite of their history, however, she could not help but to begrudgingly respect the elder woman for her temerity.

It had been a week or so by this point since she had set them all to their assigned tasks, thus she felt that it was high time for her to call upon her new allies today and have them report to her of any and all updates that they might have, as she strove to know any and all goings on within her kingdom. A true sovereign did not sit idly by and gorge themselves on food and wine, nor did they play frivolous games or whor* around, as so many lesser Kings and Queens had done throughout history. No, a ruler worthy of their crown spent each day reminding everyone that they sat up on that throne for a reason. That no one else could even come close, and that to try would be to repeat the hubris of foolish Icarus.

Very soon now, all would know, for ages to come, that none deserved to rule this world more than Cassandra, the last and eternal Queen.

As usual, Bernard was the first to arrive. A militant man who lived like a spartan, protocol and routine were ingrained in him, much like they'd been ingrained within herself for much of her life. Her pathetic, futile life of vying for a position as a Royal Guard, something she now knew would have never been granted to her. Years of training, loyalty, and dedication had all amounted to nothing; the folly of her ordeal made crystal clear when Eugene Fitzherbert of all people got that same position that she had wanted more than anything...without even trying. That lying, cheating, swindling clown who'd taken everything while leaving her crumbs, and--

She took a breath, exhaling through clenched teeth. No need to go down that road again. Not now. There would be a time and a place to draw upon her vast reservoirs of rage and hate; when she would inevitably be forced to show her true might and put her enemies in their place. This was not that time.

Bernard did not seem the type who cared about status or rank, oddly enough. Despite her having promoted him to Captain of the Obsidian Order, he did not flaunt his newly given authority like many other men would have. She had not known him very long, true, but she felt as if he were a kindred spirit in many ways. He was a weapons master, as Pontius had described him, and was one of the strongest warriors she had ever seen. There was a quiet solemness in the way he presented himself, yet also a sort of wistful sadness in his steely blue-gray eyes.

Definitely a story there etched into that big bastard's dour face, one which she would have to get him to tell her about someday, when things were less...busy. Which likely wouldn't be any time soon, since things were only going to get busier the more she expanded her rule over this rotten, corrupt world.

He had quickly taken charge of his ever increasing number of recruits, showing the greenhorns the basics of combat, as well informing them what would be expected in their service to their new Queen. Pontius had been right...as he usually was, in her short time in knowing the conniving man: Bernard had indeed been the right person for the job. His single mindedness in keeping both himself and those around him trained and ready for duty was another blessing, as Cassandra knew that she herself, as Queen, would not have been able to afford the time to train the populace.

Not only that, but she doubted many would have been comfortable in her presence, not only because she was the new Queen, but because of her imposing appearance that made everyone in the same room as her wince and shudder in apprehension and dread. Not that Bernard had a friendly or welcoming face himself, but...he at least still appeared human, without any glowing eyes or jagged, stony flesh that could cut you wide open with a single glancing blow.

“Your Majesty,” he greeted with a curt nod, hands clasped together before him as he waited patiently for the meeting to begin.

“Bernard,” she greeted back with equal brevity. Sometimes, she wished things could always be so simple when interacting with others. Especially in her younger years, when everything had felt overwhelming and turbulent, a more straightforward approach to people and their madness would have been so nice.

Of course, not long after Bernard's arrival, Henrietta entered the throne room, quiet as a mouse. Cassandra was certain that even without those rings of hers, the woman would have still been akin to a wraith with the way she moved. There was a severe sort of beauty in her features, with her white hair pulled back against her scalp and a single tight braid falling over her left shoulder. Her eyes were a navy blue, suggesting some form of hereditary nobility, not to mention her high cheekbones and lithe figure. Perhaps after getting Bernard's story, she would inquire after Henrietta's someday. Those jeweled daggers on her hips were incredibly enticing to her warrior's eye, and she suspected that they, too, had a bit of magic in them. Something that the assassin had failed to mention the other day when revealing her enchanted rings.

If there was one thing that all of her new 'friends' had in common, it was that they each carried their own secrets. Not that she was any different, having her own f*cked up secrets that she herself was only truly starting to unravel. So far those suppressed, buried secrets had brought nothing but pain: finding out that her mother had been none other than the vile witch Gothel, and then more recently remembering the traumatic events that had transpired when she was a young teen involving her doomed friends, the church, and a whole lot of repressed hom*osexuality.

In spite of coming out of the proverbial closet to the entire kingdom the other day when she'd announced her intentions of marrying Rapunzel, Cassandra still found it difficult to accept herself for what she was. Being a hom*osexual had been synonymous with being a sick, depraved and all around evil sort of person for much of her life. It was just one of those things that most folk didn't talk about in proper society, as the general public preferred to pretend that such people did not exist, or at the very least, could never be anywhere close to where they lived.

And yet, in spite of all the fear and self loathing over the years, Cassandra had always known deep down that she was not like her female peers. She had not swooned and sighed dreamily at the prospect of courting a handsome man, nor had she fantasized about letting one claim her on her wedding night; or, more scandalously, in a heated tryst outside of marriage.

Looking between Bernard and Henrietta, both of whom could be considered to be attractive members of their respective sexes, she knew which of them she was innately drawn to. It was subconscious, beyond her control, yet people tried to make it out to be some kind of choice. She had once attempted to 'choose' to be attracted to men, out of fear of being suspected as a degenerate lesbian, and that hadn't worked at all.

Maybe things would be better, in the future. Maybe people would become more accepting, or at least come to the realization that there were bigger problems in the world without adding nonexistent ones like judging people for who they loved.

Yeah, and maybe people would stop stealing and killing, too. The world simply didn't work like that...not yet, at least. Fortunately, she would soon change everything, for the better. For everyone.

Well...for most people, at least. Yes. For those who were on the side of justice. True justice, not the sort of 'justice' that could be bought and paid for by only a select few.

“I am beginning to think that you simply don't sleep, what with how you are always the first to rise each morning,” Henrietta commented as she stood beside her companion.

“Never was one to need much sleep...” Bernard rumbled in response. “You'd probably be able to arrive here earlier if you didn't waste so much time with your hair and clothes, though.”

Henrietta scoffed at that. “I would like to see you try to arrive in a timely manner while also having to maintain your appearance. I was likely awake before you were in order to have enough time to properly prepare.”

“As a former handmaid and lady-in-waiting, I have to side with Henrietta on this matter, Bernard,” Cassandra interjected, recalling how much time she had needed in advance to make herself presentable before she even started her day. “I do not think you would appreciate the hassle of putting on a different dress for each occasion, nor having to clean and serve while also maintaining a socially acceptable appearance.”

Bernard, for his part, did not look too offended by his Queen's bias. “Fair enough,” he said with a shrug. Another quality that she liked in the man: he was always so agreeable. If only more people could be like him in that respect, then there wouldn't be nearly so much chaos and strife out there right now.

Fall in line, or fall dead, right? Yeah, I bet you'd like it if the whole world was filled with mindless, unquestioning drones who obey your every word. Can't have an unruly populace if said populace have no minds of their own.

Cassandra frowned at that irritating little thought. It was completely untrue—she didn't want that at all. Freedom of thought, as well as freedom of speech, and all the other freedoms mattered a lot to her. She'd always been a champion for freedom, for justice. That hadn't changed, despite what others would say on the matter.

There were many places around the globe that were not as fortunate as Corona when it came to freedom in general; kingdoms and countries where abhorrent practices such as slavery still existed. She would never allow those kinds of vile things to exist under her rule, and would soon make it to where such evils were only a distant memory.

...And yet, too much freedom had its own kinds of setbacks. People just couldn't be trusted to do the right thing, and often went against their own best interests; often to the detriment to everyone else around them. Someone had to guide them...to lead them...to rule them. It just so happened that she was the best one fit for that task.

It was her destiny, after all: to rule over all and bring true justice to an unjust world.

“If you think it takes time to prepare in the morning now, just wait another fifty years,” came Mrs. Crowley's dry comment as the elderly woman shuffled into the throne room. “Especially during the rainy seasons. Makes the arthritis flare up even worse.”

“And yet you're always the first to rise with the sun each day, even before all the girls who are decades younger can so much as crack their eyes open,” Cassandra retorted evenly. “You even managed to keep up with me back when I was juggling my training, my handmaid duties, and being a lady-in-waiting. That is no small feat, I can assure you.”

Crowley stopped and stood between Henrietta and Bernard, looking rather dwarfed in comparison to the two, yet her expression showing that she was just as stone-faced as either of the professional killers. Which wasn't surprising whatsoever to the usurper, having known the old hag to be as merciless as a slaver in her role as the head of the handmaidens.

“I still don't know why you summon me here to your big important meetings...” she grumbled. “The girls are handmaids, not your own personal spies.”

Cassandra bit back the urge to reprimand her for her insolence. To question her in front of her subjects was humiliating and could prove to undermine her authority, and yet that was just the way Crowley was. Frederick had tolerated the ancient woman, but now that she was Queen, why should she?

She already knew why, of course. Because she didn't have many allies, and while many others had fled on the day of her victory and ascension to godhood, Crowley had remained. She was just as much a part of the castle as the stone itself, and would continue to do her job until death itself came for her...if it had the nerve to, that is.

And at the end of the day, she needed people like that on her side; people who were strong in more ways than one, who worked with her instead of against her. Even if the old bat got under her skin.

“I would never put my former peers into harm's way, if that is what you are worried about,” Cassandra assured her. “I only ask that they keep their eyes peeled and ears perked for any possible news as to the whereabouts of the terrorists in and around the city.”

“Hmph...'ask', you say?” Crowley snorted doubtfully. “Are you sure you are trying to look for these supposed 'terrorists', and not just looking for Eugene?”

Cassandra glared down at the elderly handmaid, tempted to bark out an immediate and reflexive 'no', but remained silent, sitting straight and proper upon her throne...although her posture was notably stiff with irritation. How she hated being questioned! How she despised all the doubting!

“...Yes. It is also imperative to find and neutralize Eugene and the others who have allied with him, before they do anything stupid and hurt themselves,” she explained slowly. “I am not ordering the girls to stray into dangerous territory or act like spies. They are to simply go about their daily lives, as I have already made clear. We will discuss any of their possible findings shortly. For now, we still have two more people to wait on before we begin...”

Crowley only gave a grunt in response, and did not press the issue any further. The short lived conversation that she had begun with Henrietta and Bernard quickly died, and the throne room was once again cast in stifling silence, with all three parties involved wisely keeping quiet. If there was one thing to learn quickly when working under the service of the new Queen, it was to know when to let the volatile woman brood.

And brood she did, sinking a bit further into her jagged throne. Cassandra wasn't too angry towards Crowley—annoyed, to be sure, but not angry. No, the source of her current wave of ire was the mention of Eugene. This was the day before her coronation, before her wedding, when she would marry Rapunzel and be crowned as Queen before the entire kingdom. She had broadcast the invitation through her black rocks nearly a week ago, and in the subsequent days since, she had been preparing for the momentous event; ordering people left and right to make sure that everything was ready.

But her announcement to the remaining population of Corona had also had a separate purpose: that purpose being to draw out Eugene and force him to play his hand before the big day arrived. He was so predictable, after all—he'd come charging into the castle, with all his friends and companions, fighting past her own guards and warriors until they clashed face to face. He'd probably try to reason with her yet again, before attempting to fight her with some useless weapon that they'd put all their hopes in.

And then she would capture him—all of them—within her black rocks, and it would all be over. No more having to look over her shoulder, no more constant wondering when the attack would be sprung.

The wedding was tomorrow. So where the f*ck was he??

Perhaps he thought it'd be better to crash the wedding by making his dramatic entrance at the last minute, revealing himself right before she kissed Rapunzel to seal the deal. It certainly sounded like something out of a storybook, but she knew Eugene by now, and he wouldn't have risked losing Rapunzel's hand in marriage for some cheap theatrics.

He should have made his move by now, though. Something was wrong. Did he know something she did not? Had they been able to secure a weapon to defeat her, and were now just biding their time, waiting to humiliate her in front of the entire kingdom? There was no way Eugene would have simply fled, as much as she wished for that option to be true. Could he have been killed out there in the ensuing chaos? No, that too seemed unlikely; especially with powerful people by his side such as Edmund and Adira to back him up.

Cassandra knew that it would be easy to become overconfident with the power she now had at her command; the same sort of overconfidence that Zhan Tiri had had...and she did not need to be reminded where that overconfidence had ultimately led her in the end. She needed to stay vigilant if she wanted to remain holding all the cards in her hands, lest she lose everything and became just a powerless wretch once again. A powerless wretch with a big target on her back.

A powerless wretch without Rapunzel...

f*ck that. No one was going to take away what rightfully belonged to her, what she was rightfully owed. She'd increase security around the castle, she'd make sure Rapunzel never strayed far from her far reaching sight, and she'd stop anyone who looked even remotely like Eugene in their tracks. The wedding would go perfectly...Rapunzel would be her wife...she would finally have her happily ever after.

The wedding... It still didn't feel like it was real, even though it was literally tomorrow. Part of her lamented that there hadn't been more time to prepare, but then, she had waited long enough. A wedding was a wedding, no matter how much window dressing and filler you put into it.

That...probably wasn't a very romantic way to view a wedding, but Cassandra had always been utilitarian about everything, from her appearance to how she kept her room. Practicality came first, and it was practical to marry Rapunzel as soon as possible.

...But was that really what was most important? A wedding was supposed to be every little girl's dream when they grew up, as it was a huge turning point in a woman's life. Of course, Rapunzel had not grown up like every other little girl...and Cassandra herself hadn't thought very highly of the idea of being married off either. Between the two of them, weddings weren't exactly high on the to-do list. Rapunzel had said as much when confiding to her in the past when they were alone and told each other all sorts of things that they'd never told anyone else.

Still...it was a wedding. And not just any wedding—it was her wedding, to the girl she loved more than anything. It was something that should have been impossible, yet she had made possible; akin to reaching up into the sky to stop the sun from setting when it should. She would make Rapunzel her wife, and no one would be able to stop her. Not the church, not all the armies of the world of man, and certainly not any gods in the heavens above.

Truth be told, however...she was no expert when it came to wedding planning, having never attended anyone's wedding herself. All she knew was that the bride and groom were supposed to stand in a church before God and a bunch of people, have a priest to officially wed them, say their vows and answer 'I do' when asked if they'd take the other as their wife/husband, and then finally kiss. It was a very basic understanding, yes, but that was all she really cared about. She did not need a bunch of decorations or grand spectacles or a thousand people to sit there and stare at her.

She only needed Rapunzel to be standing across from her, wearing a wedding dress and looking happy and beautiful.

...Well, looking beautiful, at least. She could do a great many things with her power, but she couldn't force the blonde to be happy. All she could do was try her best to show her that this was the right thing to do, that they belonged together, that it was their destiny for their separate paths to join as one.

She missed her. It had been nearly a week since she'd really so much as spoken to her, but she knew it was necessary to keep her distance in this critical time. While they hadn't done much talking, they had done other things with their mouths, kissing and touching and all the things that she had wanted to do with her for so long but had never dared to dream would ever be a reality.

Well...not all the things, obviously. That would have to wait until the wedding night.

The less Rapunzel knew about the reality of the coronation wedding, the better. And she could not trust herself not to slip up and reveal something that might give away the fact that the entire ceremony was going to be a f*cking sham.

Cassandra had buried her doubts on that issue, knowing that Pontius was right—if she wanted to be Queen, if she wanted to marry Rapunzel, then she had to be decisive and bend the rules. Not that she'd had much of a problem with outright breaking the rules in the not so distant past, what with the whole Mind Trap fiasco, kidnapping and drugging Varian, attacking Corona, nearly killing Rapunzel, conspiring with a f*cking evil warlock...

She was past all that, though. And this was very different, because this was something that actually mattered, thus needed to be handled with the utmost care. Rapunzel—along with the entire world—would never know that it was not Archdeacon Royce who would perform the ceremony, but Pontius Maximilian the Third in the guise of the foolish old codger via the magic cloak.

And as Pontius had said, all that mattered was the perception of the coronation wedding being done officially in the eyes of all who attended. It was still a lie, a grand deception, but it was the only way she could get what she wanted without spilling blood and upsetting Rapunzel any more than she already was. Brute forcing her way through every scenario would technically work, yes, but it was not the best way to handle the more delicate and sensitive matters. Mostly just the matters that involved Rapunzel.

Maybe if she stopped thinking about it so much, she would be able to believe in the lie, too.

It's not too late. You can still call it off, give up the Sundrop and Moonstone, surrender and turn yourself in...

Cassandra dug her claws into the armrests of her throne, feeling the urge to scream. Despite all of her self assurances, despite telling herself over and over that she was dead set on following this path to the end, that little voice still persisted, telling her to do such stupid and unspeakable things, like giving up. She'd come close to doing that already, back when she'd tried to go to Rapunzel to grovel for forgiveness and give up the Moonstone. Maybe that would have even worked back then, but now?

No. She'd already gone over this in her mind, again and again. To surrender now and expect to be forgiven was pure folly. To give up her power might as well have been the same thing as committing suicide, as she would surely be met with a terrible death for all the crimes she had wrought.

The sound of approaching footsteps, accompanied by the sound of a cane clacking down on smooth black rock floors, brought the brooding Queen out of her spiraling reverie. Even after a decade of not seeing him, she could still recognize the slow but steady pattern of her old mentor's footfalls.

“...It seems I am once again late,” Jonas muttered, looking at those who had arrived before him. “Even Mrs. Crowley beat me here... No offense, Ma'am.”

“None taken,” Crowley replied coolly. “I for one would have given up walking these long halls if I had an injury that required the use of a cane to aid me. You remain as strong and steadfast as ever, Sir Jonas. It seems that our new overlord, however, is keen on pushing us old folk into the grave sooner rather than later.”

Jonas chuckled at that, while Cassandra just rolled her eyes. “Please. You aren't even late, and you aren't that old,” she grumbled.

“Perhaps not as old as dear Mrs. Crowley, no, but tell that to my aching leg,” Jonas retorted. “I haven't been in active service to the crown in years. It will take time for these weary bones to adjust and adapt to the new routine you have forced onto me.”

“I have not forced anything upon you, old man,” Cassandra responded dismissively. “I certainly didn't force you to rally a mob and take up arms against me. You were plenty spry for that little outing, so I believe you'll be just fine with being my strategist. You want to help your homeland against the Saporians, don't you?”

The mild humor from before evaporated entirely from Jonas then, a look of guilt crossing over the old warrior's face like the shadow storm clouds over the plains.

“...I am ashamed that I could not do anything back when the Saporians nearly destroyed Corona,” he murmured after a moment. “If it hadn't been for Princess Rapunzel and her magic hair, I shudder to think what might've happened. To be burdened with a wounded leg...to be made useless while your countrymen are in peril... It has driven me to the brink of madness for well over a decade; especially in these more chaotic times. If what you have told us is true, and that the Saporians are conspiring against us yet again, then I will do my best to be of use, in any way that I can.”

Cassandra felt something akin to sympathy for her former mentor and friend, much to her surprise. She wanted to hate Jonas for leading an attack on her out in the city the other week, but deep down, she knew it hadn't been personal. He was simply an old patriot who had only been trying to protect the kingdom he'd sworn to defend. A knight's oath was not something that was easily broken, nor was it something that expired once you retired.

Or perhaps the sympathy came from her own brush with being crippled last year, when her dominant hand and much of her forearm had been burnt by the decaying flames of Rapunzel's 'Hurt' incantation. She'd put on a brave face and had attempted to carry on as usual, in spite of the pain, in spite of losing much of her hand's ability to function, in spite of feeling like she was becoming less and less useful and that being crippled would only make her even more useless.

But in the time between getting burnt and arriving at the Dark Kingdom, she had steadily been unraveling, dreading the return to Corona more than confronting the Moonstone. Because once they'd returned home, everyone's lives would go back to normal and they'd carry on with pursuing their dreams and aspirations.

Everyone except for her, that is, as her dream of becoming a Royal Guard had been permanently and literally burned away. Even if she'd pushed herself, even if she'd trained to do everything with one hand while the other remained withered and useless, Father never would have allowed her to continue. At best, she would have been stuck in the castle, cleaning and serving and waiting on Rapunzel and Eugene and everyone else as the poor crippled spinster to look upon with nothing but pity.

Had she not chosen to betray everyone and everything that she stood for back then, Cassandra knew that her life would have been over. For what kind of life was that for a warrior? A life of pain, of being a hindrance, of being f*cking useless?

She briefly glanced down at her formerly debilitated hand, clenching it into a fist. Unlike her, Jonas hadn't had an otherworldly artifact from space to help him restore his own injury. He'd lived for years with his disability, and while she hadn't seen him since she'd been a teen, she could imagine, if only a fraction, what it must have felt like to live like that after so much time.

“It is true that we face many dangers on many fronts now,” she told him carefully. “Saporians and traitors and all around bad people who seek to spread chaos by undermining the order and stability that only I alone can provide. Old and infirm though you may be, I know that you are still a warrior at heart. I have given you purpose once again for the first time in years; a position of great respect and power that will allow you to make a real difference. Don't tell me that you don't want it, that you regret joining the right side—my side.”

Jonas didn't respond right away—he seldom ever did, which was what she'd always admired about the man: his ability to stop and think before he spoke or acted. It may have sounded like a mundane and trivial thing to be impressed by, but in a world filled with fools who ran their mouths and acted on rash impulse, it might as well have been a god damned superpower so far as she was concerned.

“...I am grateful to be not only forgiven for attacking you before, but also for being given such an illustrious rank, especially after all my years of retirement,” Jonas told her clearly, looking up at her from the bottom of the steps that led up to her obsidian throne. “It is as you say: I am still a warrior, rusted as I have become. But a rusted sword is still a sword, so...I will do what I can to keep Corona safe.”

“I know you will,” Cassandra said, appeased with his response. “I look forward to hearing your latest report...once we are able to begin.”

Jonas nodded, and the throne room fell quiet once more. The minutes ticked by, and after a while, Cassandra began to feel her temper beginning to flare due to her crumbling patience.

“...This 'meeting' of yours is getting to be far too long for my liking. Standing still for so long is wreaking havoc on my back, not to mention my aching feet...” Crowley complained after what felt like an hour had passed. “The least you could do is set up a few chairs for us while we wait on that buffoon of a man...”

“These meetings are meant to be brief,” Cassandra replied curtly. “The last thing I want is to set a precedent where you get comfortable enough to where the meetings drag on any longer than they need to.”

Crowley grunted, shuffling from left to right. “I am bringing my own chair next time, or else you can hold your damn meeting in my room while I lie in bed.”

The old bat's attitude wasn't helping, and Cassandra could only dig her clawed fingertips into the armrests of her throne, which made a terrible scraping noise.

“Where the hell is Pontius??” she asked irately, the question not being directed at any one individual, but rather at anyone who might have the answer. “I am beginning to think he likes running late and making me wait around for him like a chump.”

Bernard and Henrietta exchanged glances, both looking unhappy with having to be left trying to explain the whereabouts of their leader to the daunting usurper.

“...I believe he mentioned something about wanting to grab something quick to eat for breakfast before meeting us all here,” Henrietta spoke up.

Cassandra frowned. “'Something quick', eh?” she echoed, sounding unconvinced. “It's been far too long now to have just been 'something quick'. Unless he decided to start cooking breakfast from scratch, he should have been here by now.”

“I could go and try to locate him, if you wish,” Bernard offered. “Pontius has been known to get somewhat...distracted at times. He's probably somewhere between here and the kitchens.”

“No need to form a search party on my behalf, my dear boy!” the voice of the missing man in question declared from the other side of the throne room. Pontius strode towards them, looking to be carrying something in his hands, though from this distance, it was hard to see just what it may be.

“A thousand apologies for the tardiness, Your Majesty. I was held up for a while during what was supposed to be my brief foray into the kitchens. But as surely as the sun rises each day, I have arrived.”

Cassandra's frown turned into a scowl as she glared down at the weird man. “If the sun ran as late as you did each day, I doubt life as we know it would be able to flourish,” she told him acidly. Her glowing eyes narrowed as she finally saw what he was carrying, and she asked between gritted teeth, “...is that a f*cking pastry??”

Pontius raised the baked good—a 'pain au chocolat', by the look of it—and took a bite, grinning like a god damned schoolboy.

“Why, yes, yes it is,” he replied coolly. “I made them myself! ...Well, not all by myself. I had quite the helpful little helper to help me with--”

“You wasted my time, knowing full well there was a meeting this morning, instead opting to fool around in the kitchen baking some god damned sweets!” Cassandra spat, cutting off his inane prattling.

Pontius paused, before giving a shrug. “Yes, well...I made enough for everyone, actually. Including you, of course. In fact, I think you will like this particular pain au chocolat, as it was made by--”

“I don't care!” Cassandra boomed, making everyone in the room wince. “This sort of behavior cannot be tolerated. When I order you to show up for a meeting at a designated time, I expect you to show up on time. Or, better yet, earlier. What do you have to say for yourself?”

The room fell silent, with Henrietta, Bernard, Jonas and Crowley each looking somewhere between uncomfortable or agitated. Pontius, however, simply looked bewildered.

“I'm sorry, truly, I am,” he said, hands splayed at his sides, “but I think you are not fully appreciating the nigh Olympian levels of work that I have been able to just barely pull off by the skin of my teeth. I mean, do you have any idea how insane it is to attempt to prepare not just a normal wedding, but a royal one within the span of a week? When typically, royal weddings are planned months, sometimes years in advance? Do you not realize that I have been acting not only as your Royal Adviser, but your wedding planner, as well as a half dozen other roles? I have been stretched thin in order to get this show up and running, and do I ever ask for anything in return?

No. I receive not even an occasional 'atta boy' or a thumbs up as a thank you for my Herculean labors. And unlike you, I am not immune to the Sandman's influence. Do you not remember what it feels like to work with little to no sleep? You have not been a goddess for that long to where you might forget the struggles that us mere mortals go through each day.

So forgive me if I take just a little longer than usual to show up at these meetings so that I can treat myself to a delicious pastry. I think it is the least I deserve for literally making your dreams come true; I am just a man, not a bloody genie!”

Cassandra's lips compressed into a thin line of displeasure as he laughed, her expression a mix of smoldering anger and embarrassment. She knew he was right—she could not argue that he was an integral part of making the coronation wedding happen. Despite her dislike of him as a person, she knew that she needed him and his skills, as well as the manpower that he brought to the table, if she wanted everything to work out in a peaceful manner.

Because not even she could deny that on her own, things would be a hell of a lot...messier.

“...Fine. Whatever. Let's just...start the damn meeting and be done with it,” she grumbled sourly, refusing to say anything remotely apologetic to him.

“Indeed! I have quite the funny story to tell--” Pontius started, but was yet again cut off as Cassandra raised her hand for him to stop talking.

“You got here last, so you can be the last one to give a report,” she told him smugly. To her surprise—and disappointment—he did not seem to be very bothered about it. In fact, he almost looked amused, as though he knew something she did not.

“If you say so, Your Majesty...” he replied nonchalantly with a shrug, stepping back to fall in line with the others.

Fixing her glare on him for a moment longer before eventually rolling her eyes, Cassandra sighed, shifting in her throne as she leaned her face up against her closed fist.

“Let's start with Bernard. What news might you have for me regarding my budding Obsidian Order?”

Bernard stepped forward, giving a short bow before clearing his throat awkwardly. She could tell he was not someone who liked speaking publicly—yet another trait she shared with the towering man.

“Well. Things are going...good, for the most part. New recruits have been pouring in, thanks in large part to Sir Jonas' reputation and words of encouragement to anyone still harboring doubts. Most of the men are still soft, but with your armor gifted to them, that will help balance out their woeful inexperience with a hardy shell to protect them, while I show them the basics of combat.”

“I see...” Cassandra hummed thoughtfully, before adding “you said that things are going good 'for the most part'... Does that mean that something is amiss?”

Bernard hesitated, then sighed. “Nothing too disastrous or anything. It's just...some of the men that have come to join the Order...they strike me as being less than honorable.”

Cassandra snorted, raising her brows bemusedly. “'Less than honorable', eh? And what is that supposed to mean, exactly?”

“To put it bluntly, the lad is trying to say that some of the new recruits are bad men, with bad intentions,” Jonas spoke up, stepping forward to stand beside Bernard.

“Oh? And what makes them so bad?” Cassandra inquired. Having been labeled as 'bad' herself lately—along with several other labels that would make the devil blush—she wasn't about to automatically think the worst of others just because they might be misunderstood.

“There have been some complaints among the citizens that men in black armor have been...abusing their power,” Bernard explained, sounding ashamed; as though he was the one responsible for letting those men loose. Which, of course, he was not. He hadn't been the one who had started giving away free suits of evil armor to everyone who joined her.

“Seventeen complaints altogether within this past week,” Jonas added somberly. “Many of them from women or young girls... I said it before, and I'll say it again: giving that much power to those who are unworthy is just asking for disaster. That armor of yours gives men with inflated egos and black hearts the means to trample over the weak, more so than they could on their own already.”

Cassandra grimaced, feeling her mood continuing to spiral downward. Great—more bad news. Part of her had hoped, idealistically, that some of the new recruits would have been women like herself; women who had been too afraid and too socially held back to step up and become warriors.

But this was not Ingvarr, with their powerful women who looked like they were each sculpted in the image of Greek goddesses. Instead, she was reminded yet again of the filth and rot of the world, and how such scum was often attracted to power...power that she had readily made available to anyone who merely swore an oath of allegiance to her.

Gee, who would've ever guessed that offering a suit of invincible armor to anyone who joined your cult could go wrong?

“Do you have the names of those responsible for the mistreatment of civilians?” she asked, ignoring the snide voice of the wretch. “I would think you would have punished them already for their crimes, Bernard.”

“I would have, yes,” Bernard agreed solemnly. “But there have been many new recruits pouring in each day, and it has been difficult to keep track of each and every one. We do not have access to a proper filing system...a means to record those who join, those who still remain, and those who go absent. That will take more manpower and resources than I currently have at my disposal...”

Cassandra sank a bit further into her throne. The big man was right, of course. There was more to running a police force than simply having one person acting as captain. She needed not only more people, but people she could trust, people who weren't corruptible. People who were loyal to her and her alone.

It seemed that those were still in short supply, however, and scaring folk into submission and compliance could only go so far. She hated to think that people out there were being abused because of the armor that she gave to the members of her Obsidian Order, but...what could she do?

“I will see to it personally that those who are guilty are caught and punished,” she said, trying to sound confident even though she had no f*cking idea how she would be able to follow through with that. “Once the coronation wedding is done with, that is. For now, that is our main priority.”

Bernard didn't look happy with that answer—though to be fair, when had he ever even so much as cracked a smile in the time she had known him? “Hrmm... Very well,” he acquiesced quietly, head bowed.

Jonas, however, did not accept her ruling, and made his thoughts on the matter known without hesitation.

“Cassandra...you can't just leave something like this to settle, otherwise it will fester like an untreated wound,” the old man said imploringly. “We must take action swiftly, or else the problem will only grow and become more difficult to weed out.”

“What do you recommend we do, then?” Cassandra asked, her frustration sounding like tangible weakness pouring from her mouth. She could not afford to be seen as incompetent or helpless, not by the few people who willingly chose to follow her! “I am...open to suggestions, if you have any.”

“You can start by taking away every single one of the men's black rock armor,” Jonas said bluntly. “That will at least stop the perpetrators from being able to abuse their power to such an extent.”

Cassandra grit her teeth, not liking the idea of taking back her grand gesture that had helped to inspire more men to come and join her. “And what of those who have done no wrong?” she countered. “It would be unfair to everyone who has been loyal to strip them of my great gift, just because a few rotten apples have caused trouble...”

“May I suggest a sort of middle ground as a solution?” Bernard interjected.

Cassandra turned her gaze back to the recently made Captain of her new order. It was almost comical, how he appeared as this daunting behemoth of a man, but was soft spoken and polite instead of boorish and loud, as many might assume.

“You may,” she replied, curious as to what his suggestion might be.

“I must agree with Sir Jonas—despite the advantages your armor gives the greenhorns, they should not rely so heavily upon it, as it will only tempt them to abuse its benefits,” he said plainly, causing the usurper to frown. Before she could make a bitter retort, however, he continued.

“Thus, instead of granting it to any and every man who simply walks into the barracks claiming to join us, why not make it a reward for those who prove themselves worthy? The men—or women, if any choose to also sign up—who show the highest valor and prove themselves to be honorable and just can become beacons of integrity among their peers by being awarded with a suit of your black rock armor. That will enable you to more accurately judge those who you deem fit to don your gift, and make it less likely for it to be abused by wretched curs who use power to trample the weak.”

Cassandra blinked, feeling another surge of embarrassment wash over her for not coming up with that idea herself. It would've saved everyone a lot of trouble—especially the victims of the abuse—if she had just told the recruits from the beginning that they could only wear her armor once they proved themselves to her.

Instead, she had made a big, sweeping dramatic gesture by giving it to everyone who joined; no questions asked. It would cause a lot of confusion and doubt to take it back now, but she knew both Bernard and Jonas were right on this matter. God, what was wrong with her?? It wasn't like her to be this slow, this dense. She was better than this!

The reason was pretty obvious for her distracted state of mind: she was so focused on her coronation wedding going smoothly that everything else had become like background noise. Would it always be this difficult, juggling her personal life with Rapunzel and her business life of running her kingdom?

“That is...an acceptable idea,” she managed to say after a time, before turning her attention back to her old mentor. “What say you, old man? Do you find this compromise agreeable?”

Jonas nodded, seeming to be mollified with the solution. “I still feel like giving a police force that much power is a bad idea, but...if we can actually vet each and every person from now on before swaddling them in black rock armor, it will be a lot better than what is currently happening, at the very least.”

Cassandra snorted derisively. “So glad to have your approval. Might as well have you speak up next, then. What news do you have for me, if any?”

Hopefully something good, she thought to herself; or at least not more bad news. She was finally claiming her destiny—there should not have been so many problems, so much hassle, so little cheer as there was.

“I am afraid it is nothing good, unfortunately...” Jonas told her, to which she sagged a bit further into her throne. God f*cking damn it...

“Eugh... Very well. Let's hear it,” she said reluctantly, gesturing for him to continue.

Jonas paused, looking like he was trying to find the right words so as to not rile her anymore than she'd already been riled.

“I have been working alongside some of Pontius'--er, I mean, your new associates, and we have seen a concerning spike in crime outside of the city. Specifically, a rise in highwaymen and brigands and the like, who have set up shop near the main roads on the other side of the Coronan Bridge. They have been targeting the people who have been fleeing Corona, as they are ripe for pilfering since many are traveling with their prized possessions.”

Cassandra resisted the urge to shout a particularly nasty curse upon hearing the news. Did people really have that bad of a memory that they had forgotten her terrible power to the point where they felt comfortable to rob and steal and threaten right outside of Corona? Or perhaps they were outsiders who had not yet been acquainted with their new ruler, and had foolishly assumed that the fleeing Coronans were easy pickings because the kingdom had fallen?

Either way, it was yet another problem that needed to be addressed. On the other hand...

“Hmph. Why should I give a damn about those who have fled? They made their choice, made their bed, and now they must lie in it,” she stated callously. “I offered them peace and security under my rule, and they turned their backs on me and decided they would rather go to some other sh*tty kingdom than have me as their Queen. As far as I am concerned, they are reaping what they have sown.”

Jonas looked like he was struggling to understand her, as though he had just heard her speak some foreign language, or she had said something completely outrageous.

“I do not remember training such a petty, vindictive girl...” he said, sounding both disappointed and sad. “Despite their choice to leave, those people are still our own, and do not deserve to be abandoned and left to the wolves.”

“I am no longer just a girl,” Cassandra retorted coldly. “I am a woman grown. And you can call it being petty or vindictive or whatever you like, because I don't care. We have our hands full as it is trying to get Corona back under control, and with the recent news that an undefinable amount of men within the Obsidian Order cannot be trusted to do the right thing, our forces would be stretched rather thin if we send some outside of the city to chase a bunch of bandits back into the mountains. Unless you want me to go and take care of them myself, though that option would likely lead to 'bad optics', according to Pontius, since it isn't proper for a Queen to go and slaughter criminals by the dozens.”

Pontius did not give his own comment, surprisingly, and remained silent, instead opting to just grin at her and give a shrug; as if he were daring her to do just that. He knew just as well as she did that she would do no such thing, because of her promise to Rapunzel. God, what an infuriating little man.

“I would not want that, no...” Jonas sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose wearily. “We want people to feel safe and at ease... Going on a murderous rampage will only heighten the already high levels of fear and uncertainty that are currently present in every citizen.”

“I could do it,” Bernard offered, as if he were offering to do something as simple as taking out the trash. It would have sounded arrogant and brash coming from most other men, but from him, it simply sounded like he was stating a fact. “Me and a small group of carefully chosen men; men who know how to fight, when to kill and when to take prisoners.”

Cassandra pursed her lips in thought, before shaking her head. “I appreciate the enthusiasm, Bernard, but I will have to decline that offer. You are needed here, within the city; particularly within the castle. No, this is a matter that must also wait until my anointment—and my wedding—has passed. Fret not, though. The highwaymen and other such evil doers won't be getting away with their crimes. And once I am the true ruler of this world, no one will.”

Bernard did not press the subject any further, nor did Jonas; her words seeming to have mollified them...or perhaps they just thought she sounded insane and didn't want to push their luck by arguing with her. It was a bold claim, saying that you would end all crime, everywhere. But that was exactly what Cassandra would do. She couldn't argue the point that such an undertaking was immense, or that it would take a long, long time to fully accomplish, but unlike the many warlords, conquerors and would-be sovereigns who had attempted to rule their empires forever, she could actually do what they could not.

Because unlike them, she was immortal. She could never die, and thus, her rule could never die, either.

A simple and somewhat brutish way to put it, to be sure, but it was true. There was nothing anyone could do to stop her, and eventually, she would take the entire world and cleanse it of all the rot and filth and corruption that had been allowed to infest it for millennia. All she needed was time, and with the Ultimate Power, time was on her side.

“...There was one more matter that I wanted to discuss with you,” Jonas said after a moment, sounding troubled.

Cassandra raised a brow, wondering what other bad news the old man might drop onto her. “And what matter might that be?” she inquired warily.

“My nephew, Henrik... He has been having some issues with the other men during training, as well as in the barracks. Your more...'ardent' followers have taken to picking on the lad, even going so far as to physically assault him. I believe it is because they take offense to his actions against you from before...”

“You mean when he shot a crossbow bolt into my eye,” Cassandra said flatly. It wasn't like she hated Henrik or took him shooting her in the face personally—the boy was so far beneath her that he may as well have been an ant. In another time, under different circ*mstances, she probably would have even gotten along with him, as he was a lot like she had been at that age: a loner and a hunter, preferring to walk in the woods instead of around the city.

But then she remembered that look in his eyes, in that split moment before he fired his crossbow at her. He hadn't shown any fear of her like the rest of the mob had. No fear, no respect... Just who did the little sh*t think he was?? How dare he fire a weapon at her! HER, the f*cking savior of the world! Stupid, ignorant, ungrateful piece of--

Okay. Maybe she took it a little bit personally.

“I would request that he be taken out from guard training immediately,” Jonas said. “He should not be hounded by others for having followed me.”

“I don't know...seems like such a waste of talent to just take him out of the Order,” the usurper said callously. “Besides, I already told you before that you and your nephew belong to me now. I need to keep you both within my sights, otherwise I might get paranoid that you'd plot against me. Again. Remember, I gave you a second chance by allowing you into my castle to serve me—and as your Queen, I decide how you will serve.”

“He is not exaggerating when he says the boy is being targeted,” Bernard interjected, to Cassandra's mild surprise...and not so mild annoyance. “I've had to break up some fights involving that one. He is being harassed for his stance against you. I have told him that being openly against the Queen is just asking for trouble, but that is not the only issue. You have inspired many to follow you, myself included; however...”

Bernard paused, likely to choose his next words very carefully. Cassandra hated how so many people seemed to walk on pins and needles whenever they were talking to her, and yet, she knew she was ultimately at fault for them doing so. People were afraid of her—even those who had claimed to swear fealty to her and her cause. Why was it so hard to assure people that they had nothing to fear? Why could they not see that they should instead be rejoicing, as the coming of a new and better age was at hand?

Because you are out of your god damned mind and no one wants to be around when you snap and--

“However...?” Cassandra prompted stiffly, pushing down the quiet but persistent voice yet again.

“...I have seen some who have taken their allegiance to you to an...unhealthy level,” Bernard told her carefully. “Loyalty is one thing, and is something that is most important to me, personally. But zealotry...it can lead people to do some very dark and unimaginable things. Things that they normally would not do.”

Cassandra frowned, not liking how he was framing the situation. So much for Bernard being the agreeable one! Now he was here standing up for Jonas and making excuses for her old mentor's insufferable little nephew.

“I am aware that some have begun to label me as a 'god' after witnessing my resurrection the other week, and word of mouth has only exacerbated that idea since then. What am I supposed to do? Tell them that I'm just a humble servant of the people? I have little to no power over how others perceive me. If they want to see me as a deity, then that is their choice. It's better than a lot of the other names and titles I've heard directed my way, always behind my back and in hushed tones...”

While that last part was true, she wasn't exactly comfortable with being called a god, either. Gods were supposed to be infallible, not to mention perfect. And in spite of her recent power up, Cassandra knew that she was far from being perfect. She could feel it in her very being that she was not yet anywhere close to her full potential, and that it would take time for her to become, well...godly. Or as close to godly as a former mortal could get.

Perhaps when that day finally came and there was no longer any doubt of her deific status, people would stop doubting and fearing and acting like idiots, and would accept her as their true and rightful ruler. Until then, she'd just have to put up with their bullsh*t and remind them who she was whenever they got out of line.

But for now, this lesser issue was not going to be quieted, and she had to make some sort of decree on what the fate of Henrik would be.

“...The lad isn't like you or the others,” Jonas was saying, still trying to plead with her. “Despite his actions against you, he is a gentle soul. That is one of the reasons his father sent--”

“Okay, I get it,” Cassandra cut him off, growing impatient with dwelling on this subject. “He isn't cut out for guard duty. But he will still serve me in some capacity, nevertheless. I don't know how exactly, as of yet, but...I will think on it.”

Her first thought was to give the boy a demeaning and unpleasant job, such as latrine cleaning duty. She could remember having to do that in the past herself—Father had claimed that it would 'help her to build character' to do the sorts of tasks that were considered lowly or meant for lower class folk. A few weeks of cleaning out chamber pots and the like, and he'd be begging her to let him back into the Obsidian Order.

Or maybe she'd emasculate him by making him a handmaid—uniform and all. How it made her blood boil, that everyone just casually accepted it as the way things were that being a handmaid was only for women. As if the female mind was only capable of doing such menial, monotonous tasks; meant to serve, meant to obey. She had been possessed of a warrior's spirit, and yet she'd been forced into a dainty dress and slippers and made to dance along to the tune and strings of society.

Cassandra closed her eyes. No, lashing out and punishing Henrik for her own grievances against the world wouldn't be right. Even if she was tempted to be both spiteful and vindictive, she had to at least appear to be a benevolent god, as the alternative was to be a wrathful one instead; one who struck down blasphemers and heretics who dared to speak out against her.

Besides...she'd never hear the end of it from Rapunzel if the girl ever found out she had bullied another kid.

“Is that acceptable?” she asked haughtily, wanting to move on.

Jonas didn't look very happy with how nonchalant she was being about his nephew's well being, but he nodded anyway, probably having a similar mindset of wanting to end this meeting sooner than later.

“Yes... Thank you for your consideration.”

“You're welcome. Let's continue on down the line then, shall we?” Cassandra said brazenly, shifting her gaze to the remaining three people who had yet to give their own reports. Since she had already made it publicly clear that Pontius was to speak last, that only left the two other women present in the room.

“Crowley! How about you tell us what you and our girls might've seen or heard lately, eh?” she asked, trying to sound upbeat and friendly. Instead, she came off as sounding incredibly phony, at least in her own ears. To be fair, it was quite difficult to pretend to be happy to see someone you'd rather not, and she'd never been happy to see Crowley in her years of service within the castle. That hadn't changed after she had returned to Corona and became its new Queen, and likely wouldn't change in the future.

Still, she was curious as to what news the old bat might have for her, at the very least.

Crowley raised a brow, gave a great 'harrumph', and shuffled forward. “They haven't seen Eugene or the others,” she declared bluntly, with no further explanation.

Cassandra felt her eye begin to twitch as silence began to fill the room once more. This f*cking hag... “Alright... How about telling me what else they might have gathered, hm?” she asked with a strained smile. “I know a lot is going on out there in the city, since I keep hearing everyone and their mother complaining about how I've f*cked everything up...”

“Really? You don't say?” Crowley shot back without missing a beat. “I never would have guessed, myself. Could've fooled me, what with everyone being so thrilled about the wedding.”

The would-be Queen fixed her with a withering glare that would have made most people change their tune, so to say, but she knew such a tactic would be largely ineffective on Crowley. The ancient crone had practically invented the 'cold glare', after all.

“...I know your memory probably isn't what it used to be, but please, if you could try to dig deep and remember anything that might be helpful, I would really appreciate it,” Cassandra told her through gritted teeth.

Crowley either appreciated the retort enough to stop bullsh*tting, or—more likely—she just wanted to get back to work; her handmaid duties likely being the main driving force of what kept her going at such an age. Cassandra couldn't decide whether or not such an extreme work ethic was inspiring, or sad.

“The girls have seen and heard what's already obvious to anyone with eyes and ears,” she said without further preamble. “People aren't happy that you're marrying Princess Rapunzel. Some are considering making a scene at the wedding tomorrow. No, I don't know anything specific; certainly no names or faces. It's just the general atmosphere out there. You'd already know it yourself, if you deigned to leave your ivory—or in your case, obsidian—tower once in a while and walked among the people.”

Cassandra wasn't shocked by the revelation. She knew full well that people weren't happy with her; the biggest reason currently being her flaunting her big hom*osexual wedding the next day for all of Corona to see. How tedious their self righteous indignation was. If anyone thought that they could ruin her wedding ceremony and get away with it, they would be in for a very rude awakening.

“I don't know, last time I tried to 'walk among the people', I got ambushed and shot in the eye with a crossbow,” she replied flippantly. “Maybe I don't feel safe out there—certainly not with Rapunzel involved, who could have been seriously injured, or worse, during our last little outing. People being violent and unreasonable is the very reason it is vital for the Obsidian Order to grow and become capable of policing the citizens, not only in Corona, but the entire world; a world that is in dire need of--”

“Your 'Obsidian Order' is something that I also wanted to bring up, since Sir Jonas and Bernard had already broached the topic,” Crowley cut her off brashly, her tone turning irate. “Those men who you claim are supposed to protect and defend us are a bunch of bastards. It isn't just folk out in the city who are being abused—it's also happening right here in the castle, under your own damn nose. 'Our' girls are terrified to be around them, as they have made unwanted advances and have even been following a few of them back to their rooms. You say you have the handmaid's best interests at heart, but do you even remember any of their names? Do you know any of the new ones who came to work within the palace during the year you were gone doing heaven's knows what with that Moonstone of yours?”

Cassandra sank even further into her throne, wincing at how f*cking awful this 'meeting' was going, if it could even still be considered one at this point. It felt like whatever she tried to do ended up just making things worse. She couldn't blame Crowley for being angry—the women who had to put up with black rock armored assholes didn't deserve to be harassed. And again, it was all her fault that this was happening in the first place...

“I'll take care of it,” she responded wearily. “And I will be sure to compensate each handmaid for their troubles...including you. I already said before that I would revoke the men's black rock armor, but I suppose I could also throw any offenders into the brig, once they are identified. Be assured, I do not condone or take lightly the suffering of those who serve under me. Justice...justice will be swift.”

She hated how empty her platitudes were starting to sound. More disturbing was that her words were starting to sound like those of Pontius, which was the last person she wanted to be compared to. Maybe that was just a side effect that everyone who went into politics had to deal with: becoming a gaudy fop who liked to hear the sound of their own voice.

“If you don't, I will,” Crowley grumbled, and Cassandra did not doubt that the elderly woman meant it. “In all the years that I've served, I have never witnessed such blatant disorder within the castle grounds. I liked to think that the old you wouldn't have put up with such horsesh*t—especially at the hands of any man—but maybe I was wrong...”

“Alright, that's enough,” Cassandra growled irritably, having heard her fill of the list of f*ck ups that were being thrown at her. “I said I'd take care of it, and I will. Is there anything else you have to report? Anything else I should know about? Anything else you want to blame on me?”

Crowley just scowled up at her before shaking her head. “No. I've said my piece. I can only hope you actually follow through with your words...for their sake.”

Cassandra sighed moodily, sitting up straighter in her seat. “In that case, you are dismissed. In fact, you're dismissed too, Jonas. You can both go and talk to each other about how much of a bad guy I am.”

“I never meant to imply...” Jonas started to speak, but trailed off as the usurper waved them away.

“Just...go,” Cassandra commanded. “I have things that I have to discuss with the others here, things that I'd rather not have you two gossiping about.”

Crowley exchanged glances with Jonas, shrugged, and then began to slowly make her way to the throne room's exit without another word. Jonas awkwardly lingered for a moment longer before joining her, and a few moments later, both seniors were gone.

She hadn't been lying when she'd said that she had certain things to discuss with the other three; things that were of a very secretive and clandestine nature. Crowley was just a handmaid, and while Jonas was a sort of tactician and negotiator, she did not want him to be privy to what the next topic of conversation was.

Unlike them, these people still standing before her were the kind of folk you expected to find in the shadows, and thus were the type who could help her keep things discreet.

“Henrietta, Henrietta...” Cassandra called out jovially, leaning forward in her throne to gaze down at the rigid woman. “Surely you have something good to report to me. Right?”

Henrietta didn't look too thrilled to have the pressure of appeasing the new Queen suddenly thrust upon her shoulders. From what little Cassandra knew of her, she was quiet, much like Bernard was, but unlike the stoic man, her silence felt more...calculated, if that made any sense. A byproduct of being an assassin, perhaps, or possibly a means for her to avoid getting into any hot water with her. She wasn't sure how the older woman felt about her personally, and ultimately, it did not matter. So long as she followed orders and was loyal, Cassandra would be happy. Or at least, content.

After everything she had done, she hadn't come this far to make friends.

“...There is nothing pressing or dire to report, no,” Henrietta replied, her tone ever formal. “The Archdeacon is still held securely in the designated space that you commanded he be placed within. I have continued to ensure that he does not find a way to break free, or that anyone learns of his true whereabouts.”

Cassandra nodded, feeling both pleased and sickened with herself all at once. It was a foul deed she had agreed to carry out, what with ordering Henrietta to abduct Royce last week after her failed attempt to convince him to anoint her at the cathedral. In spite of how she hated him for both denying her wishes and causing such pain and suffering to people like poor Medina throughout the years, there was still a sliver of guilt that gnawed at her incessantly, akin to a sliver of wood that embedded itself under the skin of one's finger.

But unlike the latter, she found she could not simply reach down and pry the sliver loose to alleviate her woe.

“That is indeed good news,” she said anyway, for it was true. “I...can understand how heavy such a task might weigh upon you, though. These are trying times for us all, but you shouldn't let it get to you. To steal away an Archdeacon is no minor feat—to do so without having anyone notice is even more impressive. You should feel proud of your accomplishments.”

Henrietta's expression revealed little in the way of showing just what she might've thought about that sentiment. “I do not feel proud, nor ashamed. It was merely an order to be carried out, same as any other.”

Her words did nothing to make Cassandra feel better about her own moral quandaries, as she had hoped to strike a sort of relatability with the other woman. However, it seemed that Henrietta had no such qualms about doing any dirty work—on the contrary, she felt nothing, one way or the other. It made Cassandra feel both childish and envious; childish in that she could not control her own turbulent emotions to such a level, and envious for not being able to just do what needed to be done without feeling bad afterward.

Looking into the cerulean blue eyes of the spindly assassin, she highly doubted that Henrietta had a little wretched voice in her own head that told her that she was a terrible person for what she had done or had yet to do. To be fair, having such a thing in that line of work would prove to be quite the liability, and would make her a rather poor assassin.

What did that say about her having her own infernal little voice, then? A Queen needed to be decisive, and could not show any weakness. If everyone saw her constantly second guessing herself, hesitating as she waged a perpetual war within her own mind over every f*cking decision...then no one would ever take her seriously.

“Well, that's just...swell,” she muttered, deflated. What else to bring up...ah, right. “Hrmm...how about the other duty that I tasked you with? How goes your surveillance of Rapunzel? I trust she hasn't caused you too many problems trying to keep up with her...”

Henrietta shook her head. “None at all. The Princess remains safe, and I have encountered no threats or situations that required me to reveal myself in order to neutralize said threats. Her Highness is still none the wiser that I have been watching over her at your behest.”

She paused, just for a moment, before speaking again carefully. “However...”

Cassandra raised a brow. She hated when people said 'however', as it was always followed by something disappointing. 'Cassandra, you are really strong and capable, however, you are not allowed to officially become a Royal Guard because you're just a silly little girl', for example. Or 'Cassandra, I love you, really, I do—however, I already have a boyfriend who I love more, so go f*ck yourself'.

“However...?” she echoed the problematic word, bracing herself for more bad news.

“I am concerned that the Princess might suspect that I have been spying on her,” Henrietta explained, sounding troubled. “Perhaps she is just an overly paranoid girl, or maybe it is just another one of her 'eccentricities' on display, but I figured it was worth mentioning to you.”

In spite of that being...not the greatest news, Cassandra found herself smiling softly. She could remember teaching the girl a thing or two about learning how to be mindful of her surroundings, of how to tell when someone might be tailing you. It felt like a lifetime ago now, and the 'lessons' hadn't been much—certainly not to the extent to which she herself had gone through—but it had clearly stuck with the blonde in some capacity. And for that, Cassandra felt proud of her.

Of course, if Rapunzel did ever somehow discover that she had sent an invisible spy to stalk after her at her command, it would be disastrous; a breach of trust and boundaries that might never be mended. Then again...she knew she had already done just that. Several times now, in fact. At least in this instance, it was for a good reason. If it meant keeping her safe, then she wasn't too worried about any potential feelings of anger or betrayal that the Princess would have towards her. It was for her own good, so it was worth it.

“Rapunzel is a clever girl,” she told the other woman simply. “Don't let her naive innocence and good natured demeanor fool you: she's a fierce and determined fighter at heart. She even had me on the ropes a couple times, back when I only had the Moonstone. Nearly fell to my death at one point after one of our battles, and that hadn't even been her intent. If she had truly wanted me dead, she probably could've killed me. Take heed not to underestimate her.”

Henrietta stared at her for a moment in silence, before nodding solemnly. “I will take your words to heart on the matter, Majesty. Her Highness will remain unaware of my presence.”

“Good to hear! I just know you won't let me down,” Cassandra exclaimed, smiling in a way that was supposed to be kindly and reassuring, but came off as more threatening. It wasn't her intent, really, it wasn't, but, well...it was difficult to not look sinister or menacing with glowing eyes and jagged skin of black stone.

Clearing her throat, the usurper intentionally kept her gaze away from Pontius, who was to be the last of them to speak. She wasn't ready to open that can of worms just yet, mostly because she was cross with the man for running late and making her wait so long, but also because she had a feeling that he would give her even more bad news...and probably talk her ear off in the process.

“Was there anything else you wanted to bring up, Henrietta?” she asked, hoping that there was.

But Henrietta just shook her head. “No, I don't think so... Nothing that you haven't already heard. I can confirm that Crowley is right about there being a possible problem tomorrow. Walking around while being nigh invisible is also quite good for catching up on the latest gossip...”

Cassandra's previous smile disappeared. “And what are your thoughts on the matter? Do you think there will be another attempt on my life, or on the life of the Princess?”

“From what I have heard, no. If anything is to go down, it will be an unarmed form of protest. People who are upset and against you and your...wedding will likely step forward to vent their grievances in a very vocal and public manner.”

“I'll keep security at the ready just in case things do go sideways, don't you worry,” Bernard chimed in grimly. “Both the anointment and the wedding will proceed without interruption.”

“Your confidence is always appreciated, Bernard,” Cassandra said amicably, even as she was cursing and raging mentally. A protest! What a bullsh*t word for a bunch of ignorant scum! Nobody 'protested' anything worth actually changing—they simply went and changed whatever it was that needed changing! How dare they even think about protesting her wedding! Anyone who participated would be sorry that they ever--

No...she would remain civil, even in the face of f*cking cretinous imbeciles who deserved a black rock spear to the back of the skull. Let them protest and cry and throw a tantrum like petulant children, it would not change anything. Everyone was powerless to stop what was coming—there would be no altering the course of her destiny. Not ever again.

“...Perhaps we can use tomorrow as a sort of learning experience for those involved in any form of protest,” she mused thoughtfully. “The best way to quell a protest is to defuse the spark, so to say. Making them look like fools not to be taken seriously is preferable to making them look like the oppressed martyrs that they think they are. Wouldn't you agree, Pontius?”

She had avoided bringing him into the conversation for long enough; now it was time to consult with the strange man who was the key to making her coronation wedding a reality. Despite her personal feelings of disdain and distrust towards him, she had to remember that his part in this plot was integral, and thus it would probably be unwise to plant any animosity in him towards her.

“Oh, yes, one has to be especially cautious when dealing with 'peaceful' protests, as using too much force against them will inevitably paint you in a bad light in the public's eyes,” Pontius replied coolly. “It is not as straightforward as quelling an armed mob, as you did the other week. Fortunately, with me being the ever cautious mastermind archetype who plans for every scenario, I have a few ideas as to how we might counter any possible protests. But before we get into any of that...”

He paused, once again raising a pain au chocolat in front of him and waving it emphatically before continuing, “...I think you should really take this.”

Cassandra rolled her eyes, giving a derisive snort and making no effort to hide how she felt about this ridiculous farce of his. “For the last time, I don't want your damned pastry. God only knows what you put in them, and while I can no longer be drugged or poisoned, I'd rather not have to taste anything that you cooked personally. So, if it's all the same to you, we should get back to business.”

Pontius just grinned, as though he was in on some running joke that she was not privy to. “Ah, you wound me with your baseless aspersions, Cassandra,” he said, sighing dramatically. “However, it was not I who made this particular pastry. It was made by someone who entrusted me to give it to you.”

Cassandra's eyes narrowed into two suspicious and dangerous slits. “What the f*ck are you talking about?” she demanded. “Who would want to be stuck in a kitchen with you?”

So much for easing up on the verbal disdain, but in her defense, she f*cking hated it when people beat around the bush or were being intentionally cryptic.

“Why, your dear fiance, Princess Rapunzel, actually,” Pontius responded casually, as if they were discussing what the other had for breakfast...which, to be fair, they kind of were.

That didn't make the revelation hit any less hard, though, as his words took a few seconds to really sink in; her brain struggling to process this new piece of information. And when it did...

“What?!” Cassandra nearly shouted, jumping to her feet in alarm as if there was a fire in the room. “What was she—when--how--” she sputtered, before finding some semblance of calm once again. “...Why didn't you say something before??”

Pontius shrugged innocently. “I did try to tell you earlier, but you kept cutting me off, and then told me to be silent until it was my turn to talk,” he reminded her, sounding far too satisfied with himself.

Cassandra stood there at the top of the steps in front of her throne, still as a statue as she debated on whether or not to vaporize the absurd little man. She hated that she could not refute him, because he was right. And killing him would get her nowhere, as once again, she had to remind herself that she needed him.

Taking a deep breath, she raised a clawed hand, gesturing towards the doors that led out of the throne room. “Bernard...Henrietta...you are dismissed. I would like to speak with your dear leader alone.”

Both Bernard and Henrietta looked to Pontius, who just gave a silent nod and a cheeky thumbs up...which seemed to be good enough for them, as the two bowed and retreated without another word.

The sound of the doors closing a few moments later rang in Cassandra's ears, before the silence filled the void once more and her thoughts raced with increasing anxiety.

“Did she...er...” she began quietly, faltering. “I mean...was she trying to...”

“Escape?” Pontius asked, more or less guessing the correct word that she could not bring herself to utter. “What, do you imagine that I'd be tactless enough to say something like 'hey, Princess, top of the morning to you! Are you by chance trying to flee from your wedding at this early hour?'”

Cassandra winced, knowing that she probably would've asked just that, though not in such a flowery manner. No, she would've sounded so desperate and pathetic when pleading for her to not abandon her. How sad and pitiful she must have come off, not at all the sort of image she wanted to project. Certainly not the image of a stalwart and powerful Queen who showed no weakness. Weak...she was still so f*cking weak.

Part of you is still that little girl, standing at the doorstep of Mother's cottage as you watch her ride away into the night, leaving you behind forever. That's why you never formed any lasting relationships with anyone in your life before Rapunzel. Pushing everyone away, keeping them at arm's length...all because you subconsciously didn't want to get hurt like that again. It wasn't your fault that Mother decided to--

“...But, no, she was not trying to escape, I assure you,” Pontius added, before cautiously beginning to walk up the steps that lead to the obsidian throne. Cassandra watched him silently like a wary predator, not stopping him, until he stood before her and again offered her the pain au chocolat.

“She wanted to bake, and I helped her,” he told her simply. “We talked. I talked a lot, as you would expect, but I also listened. She asked that I give this to you, along with a request that you go and talk with her later. The girl is strong, as you well know, but she is crumbling, I fear. She told me that you two have barely spoken to each other all week. Is this true?”

Cassandra didn't respond immediately, instead slowly reaching out to take the pastry from the other man's hand. It was wrapped neatly in a piece of parchment, and upon looking at how the paper was folded with such care, as well as the pain au chocolat itself, there was no mistaking it as Rapunzel's handiwork. The former handmaid had witnessed the Princess' prowess in the kitchen plenty of times in the past, and although it had been a long time now since the last time she had watched her prepare anything, it was one of those things that she would never forget.

“It is true, yes...” she admitted, holding the wrapped pastry close to her now as if it were something precious. “But that is only because I have been busy with preparing for the wedding.”

Pontius gave her a dubious stare, not looking at all convinced. “Begging your pardon, but...busy with what, exactly?” he asked bluntly. “You've had everyone else—especially me—running around all week getting things ready for your special day. I thought you had already patched things up with Her Highness...did something else happen?”

“No, I didn't do anything else to upset her...recently,” Cassandra said defensively, before sighing. “I just...I don't know. Now that the day of our wedding is tomorrow, it all feels so...unreal. I half expect myself to wake up from a dream at any moment, and I'll be back in my old bed in my old room, and it'll be just another day of being a lady-in-waiting.”

“I see...” Pontius paused, before inquiring, “is that something you desire? To be who you once were, to go back to how things used to be?”

Cassandra shook her head. “f*ck no. I was a loser who got nowhere all my life, akin to a dog chasing its own tail. Now, I have everything I've ever wanted: a grand destiny, the power to make real changes in the world, and Rapunzel...”

She trailed off, sounding uncertain on that last part. True, she did have Rapunzel now, and no one could ever take her away from her, but...there was still a rift between them; one that had started forming since even before her betrayal back in the Dark Kingdom. Conversation had used to flow easily and freely between them, once upon a time, but now it felt so...difficult, so forced and stilted and uncomfortable.

It wasn't a mystery as to why, of course. Rapunzel was still trying to 'save' her, and no matter how many times she tried to tell her that everything she was doing was for the best, Cassandra could tell that the topic of her recent deeds and her new self would continue to be a catalyst for friction between them.

That, and the whole forced marriage bit, of course.

“I wouldn't say that you were ever a 'loser', Cassandra,” Pontius said, giving her a wry grin. “I wouldn't have put all my hopes and dreams on a loser, after all. You were an orphan, yes? I'd say you've done very well for yourself, all things considered. Many abandoned children in this world cannot say the same, but then, even the ones who survive are often left with some kind of trauma or the other...”

“I don't need anyone's pity, least of all yours,” Cassandra retorted coldly. “Rapunzel and I will have plenty of time to spend together after everything has settled down. It simply can't be helped.”

“Except that things are only going to be escalating from here on out,” Pontius countered evenly. “No doubt the other Six Kingdoms will soon be aware of Corona's current state of chaos, as well as discover that a new Queen sits on the throne. If they are the sort of greedy, opportunistic sovereigns that I know them to be, then they will all be eyeing Corona as a fallen kingdom that is up for grabs. To put it plainly, they will be sending scouts out ahead to get a read of the situation here, before sending out their armies or fleets to conquer and claim the shining jewel of the Seven.”

Cassandra snorted, unfazed by that daunting prospect. “Let them come, I say. Saves me the trouble of going to them. I will crush whatever threats they send, and make them beg for forgiveness. No one will be able to defy me.”

Pontius clucked his tongue, giving a short sigh. “I have no doubt that you will dominate them, as well as the world at large, but that is not the point I am getting at here. There will be strategies to plot out, negotiations to be held, territories to be fought for and defended once acquired, and so on. I cannot predict when things might 'settle down' enough for you to feel ready to go and be with your wife. Have you even gone on a single date with her yet?”

“I...” Cassandra grimaced, embarrassment welling up within her chest. It was a personal question, and she had never been good with talking about anything personal. She could talk about weapons, or about famous battles in history, or about certain animals...but when the conversation shifted towards things like this, she suddenly became extremely uncomfortable. Or maybe it was more to do with the fact that it was Pontius who was asking such a personal question, as she preferred to keep their relationship strictly on a professional basis and not on any sort of 'friend' level. She was fine with him talking about plans and ideas and theories that revolved around her taking over the Six Kingdoms—and then the rest of the world—but it was definitely crossing a line when he started asking about her relationship with Rapunzel.

But then the actual substance of his question began to sink in, and she came to a terrible realization. Oh no—he was right!

She hadn't taken the girl on a single outing that could be considered remotely romantic! Her attentions had been stretched between scaring people into submission and making sure the wedding preparations didn't crash and burn on arrival. Things had been so busy and chaotic, and this was only dealing with matters within Corona—once she started her glorious campaign to spread her true justice across the globe, then...then would she ever have the proper time to spend with Rapunzel?

Or was that only an excuse she used to avoid her?

“I...have not,” she admitted glumly.

Pontius stared at her as though she was insane. “I must admit, I am at a loss for words here. Why ever not? You do want to actually marry her, don't you?”

“Of course I do!” Cassandra exclaimed in frustration, nearly dropping the pain au chocolat with her exasperated gesticulation. “I'm finally in a position to be with her without fearing retribution from the church or some rabid mob! You really want to know why I decided to set up this whole f*cking wedding, why I decided to take Rapunzel as my wife?”

“I'm all ears,” Pontius replied patiently, calm even in the face of the near manic usurper.

“All my life, I've been alone—even before my mother abandoned me, I was left at home, sometimes for days before she'd return,” Cassandra went on, teeth practically gnashing with smoldering anger as she thought back to those early bygone days of loneliness and anxiety. “When Father adopted me, I was often left alone as well, since he was always busy with his work. I wasn't able to make friends easily, so I was alone in school, too. Being the only woman in Corona trying to be a Royal Guard didn't help matters either, but by that point, I was pretty much already resigned to the fact that I was just...different.”

She looked down at the pastry in her hand, and was overcome with feelings of intense anguish as she thought about the girl she had fallen in love with and how their relationship had gone to sh*t the previous year, during their journey to the Dark Kingdom.

“...And then, when I met Rapunzel...when I finally thought I'd found someone who would stay by my side, she starts treating me like some disposable pawn! As if I was just another subject for her to give orders to and not her best friend! I don't want our paths to go their separate ways, or whatever bullsh*t someone might say about people who grow apart... I...I want to marry her and make her mine, so that I don't have to be alone anymore...”

She stopped talking, realizing what she had just said. This was why she hated talking about personal stuff—she was always afraid that she'd reveal too much, too quickly. And now, she had done just that. To Pontius, of all people.

How pathetic she sounded, when she brought her most guarded of thoughts up to the surface and put them into words. Pathetic, and so very selfish. And yet, despite that, it was true all the same. It was beyond sad and painted her in the worst of lights, but there could be no denying that that was how she felt.

“...It would seem that Her Highness is not the only one who needs someone to talk to,” Pontius muttered, somewhat taken aback by the black clad woman's outburst of personal information. “Alright...so you don't want to be alone. That is arguably one of the most relatable things about being human that binds us all together. Why, then, do you feel the need to distance yourself from her?”

The question was a fair one, and one that she had asked herself more than once by this point. “Because I don't want her to get involved in any of...this,” she answered, gesturing at him and the whole throne room in general. “I don't want her to look at me and see someone who abducts and drugs archdeacons, and then has someone impersonate said archdeacon to carry out her coronation wedding. I know that in order to get what I want, I have to break some rules...more rules than I've already broken...but, it is important to me that she remains ignorant of these sorts of things.”

She sighed. “...Which is why I am afraid to be near her for too long. I fear that something will slip, and she'll find out what I've done, and she'll hate me. It's a miracle that she doesn't already hate me, after everything I have put her through. I don't know what to do...I know I can't keep this up as time goes on, but I just can't think of how to go about easing her into this kind of life; a life so much different from what she had before.”

A life of deceit, violence, and coercion. Yeah, she'll be so much better off in a hell world ruled by you.

Pontius chuckled lightly, shaking his head as he held a hand up to his brow wearily.

“Does my suffering come off as a comedy to you?” Cassandra asked him icily, not appreciating his reaction one bit.

“No, not at all; in fact, it's quite the tragedy,” he was quick to assure her. “It's just...multiplexed contradictions.”

Cassandra stared at him quizzically. “Is that supposed to mean something to me, or...?”

“It was something that I also mentioned to Her Highness earlier during our varied conversations, is all,” Pontius explained. “In short, our lives are often riddled with varying contradictions, each interwoven throughout the years, one on top of the other. You say you want to be with the love of your life, and have gone through many ordeals and tribulations to be able to finally have her to yourself, and yet now, on the eve of your wedding day, you tell me that you are afraid of tainting her with the more unsavory aspects of your machinations. I am assuming that you believe keeping her in the dark is preferable to flat out lying to her face, yes?”

“I mean...yeah, I guess,” Cassandra said, troubled by the fact that both of those options were essentially the same thing. Not telling Rapunzel about what was going on was no different than lying to her about it; the only difference was that it was easier to do the former instead of the latter. Easier for her own benefit, of course.

“Does that make me a bad person for wanting to shield her from everything?” she asked. “She's always been a sensitive soul, and I don't want her to have to think about all the sh*t that I'm doing for us; for the good of the world.”

“And yet, she will inevitably find out anyway—it is not a matter of if, but of when,” Pontius retorted bluntly. “And no, it does not make you a bad person to want to protect her...it makes you human. My advice is to take your own advice and not underestimate the Princess. True, she is indeed sensitive; she has the soul of an artist, after all. But, as you told Henrietta earlier, she is also strong and clever. Having been able to finally speak with the legendary Lost Princess herself face to face after hearing so much about her, I can honestly say that I can understand the 'hype' that surrounds her, so to say. She is a remarkable young lady...and she loves you. That has to count for something in 'The Perpetually Dreary and Melancholic Tale of Cassandra', eh?”

Cassandra glared at that last bit, then shrugged. “Maybe... I don't know. Rapunzel's love has always been boundless. It managed to reach even me, when I was in a place in my life where I shut everyone and everything out that didn't involve training. In spite of knowing that she was already in a relationship, and in spite of how hard I tried to repress that part of myself, I couldn't help but fall for her anyway. I know she's more than just a dainty little Princess...in fact, she's the strongest person I've ever known. Marrying her is the only way I can think of that will keep us together, as well as keep her safe.”

Pontius pressed his lips together, the way one might do when suppressing a laugh.

“What's so funny now?” Cassandra asked testily. “I don't expect a man like you to value something sacred like marriage, but I won't stand for anyone making a mockery of it; least of all my own.”

“Far be it from me to speak ill of the concept of marriage, as I am sure it makes many people happy,” Pontius said apologetically, before continuing, “but between you and me, I always thought it was vastly overrated. The wedding is almost never worth the hassle of putting together, many of the people in attendance are only really there to mooch off of the free food and drinks, and there's always someone who gets too drunk and makes a fool of themselves while making everyone else uncomfortable.”

“That may be true for some, but that won't be the case for mywedding,” the usurper stated dismissively. “It will be a perfect day that we will both cherish forever.”

“Hmhm...that was exactly what I thought, too, once upon a time,” Pontius replied, somewhat wistfully.

Cassandra blinked, giving him a dubious, unbelieving stare. “...You were married??” she asked incredulously.

“A few times, actually,” Pontius clarified, smirking. “Don't look so surprised! I am a romantic at heart...but alas, it was not meant to be. Not the first time, nor the second, or the third, and so on.”

“Marriage is supposed to be 'till death do us part', though,” Cassandra said mechanically, as that had always been what she'd been taught growing up. “You can't just...not be married anymore. Not while both husband and wife are still alive.”

Pontius laughed openly at that, no longer trying to hide his amusem*nt. “I realize that divorce isn't something that is taught or practiced very much anywhere, but trust me, sometimes it is for the best for all parties involved. Certainly a better way to resolve things than the alternative—why, in some countries, they just kill the woman when they're through with them—if the woman doesn't kill the man first!”

Cassandra frowned deeply, not liking the turn this conversation was taking. Marriage was supposed to be a sacred, binding pact that tied two people together for the rest of their lives. The way Pontius was talking about it made it sound like something cheap, something transactional that could be rendered void at any time. Divorce was something she had heard about only a few times in her life, and never in a very positive light. It was something terrible and even blasphemous, depending on how religious you were.

While she wasn't super religious herself, she still didn't like the concept of divorce. In her opinion, divorce shouldn't ever have had to be necessary, as two people who married each other should've known that they were soul mates who would spend eternity together. That was why she had never been in any rush to be married off to some guy, as she knew she would, nor could, never love a man enough to be his wife.

She knew for damn sure that she would never want to divorce Rapunzel, though; not in a year, not in a decade, not in a century—not in a millennia!

But...would Rapunzel ever want to divorce her? It wasn't like she was giving the girl much of a choice in the matter when it came to their wedding. Forced marriages weren't anything new—history was filled with them, and they were still very much in vogue in many places in the world—but they weren't exactly ideal, either. Not when you wanted the person being forced into marrying you to love you back.

Dwelling on this very sensitive subject was not helping her mood any, and Lord knew it was already in the f*cking sh*tter despite it being only morning. She needed to get things done today, and to do that, she needed to have her head clear...or at least, as clear as she could make it at this point.

“We are done talking about this,” she commanded. “I don't care what the circuses you called your past marriages were like, my marriage with Rapunzel will last forever. End of discussion.”

Pontius held up his hands placatingly. “Sure, sure...you'll get no arguments from me on that. I just want to make sure that you and Her Highness are both as happy and fulfilled as possible. Happy wife, happy life, as they say...”

Cassandra rolled her eyes. “Whatever. Did you have anything else you wanted to spring on me while we're here? Any other big reveals I should know about? Oh, and by the way, the next time you ever see Rapunzel wandering the halls again, either super early in the morning or late at night, you tell me so, immediately.”

“Understood, Your Majesty,” Pontius affirmed, saluting...and then lightly smacked the side of his head with the heel of his palm. “Oh, drat—I did have something else I needed to tell you, actually.”

Cassandra gave him a withering glare, her patience for this man and his antics straining once more. “What is it?” she demanded without preamble.

“Now, I don't you getting upset—you've been doing so well with controlling that temper of yours this past week,” he started carefully, to which Cassandra's response was to only intensify her glare.

“...I swear, if this has something else to do with Rapunzel...” she growled, lips curling into a dangerous sneer.

“No, I promise, your bride is safe and sound eating breakfast with little Red!” Pontius reassured her. “This is more of a...business matter. You see, I took the liberty of sending word a few days back to an associate of mine who was in the area, and he should be arriving here sometime today...”

Cassandra was relieved that there wasn't more to do with Rapunzel, as hearing that she'd been up and about earlier than usual had given her quite the fright. That relief was short lived, however, as she listened to the rest of what the weird man was telling her.

“And you are just telling me this now because...?” she asked tersely.

Pontius shrugged, sticking his hands in his pockets. “Would it make you think less of me if I told you that it was because I hate being wrong?”

“I already think less of you. Elaborate.”

“Ah. Right, then... If you recall, I made the bold wager that Varian would return to us within the span of a week, but that was nearly a week ago, now, and I fear that you were right and the lad fled as far as his legs could carry him. The thing is, we still need an accomplished alchemist to make the special drug that will cause old Royce to lose his mind and be out of our hair for good once your coronation wedding is over and done with, and I can retire my archdeacon act. That is where my associate comes in.”

“What sort of 'associate' is this man? Does he have a name, or is he going to be some sort of nameless novelty in your ever growing carnival of strange and colorful characters?” Cassandra asked him, her voice dripping with snark.

Surprisingly, Pontius' reaction did not match her humor; in fact, his expression was almost grave.

“I did not reach out to him lightly, as unlike my 'strange and colorful' characters such as Bernard or Henrietta, Lazar Veres is not an official member of the Blades of the Holy Sun,” Pontius clarified somberly. “Nor is he any friend of mine, hence why I use the term associate, which still feels wrong when describing our relationship. Nevertheless, I am determined to see the world which you shall rule become a reality, thus I must pull out all the stops. Even if they are risky and leave me feeling ill.”

Cassandra felt her paranoia beginning to flare up the more she heard about this mysterious alchemist. If even someone who was overtly jubilant such as Pontius was describing this 'Lazar Veres' in the least flattering of lights, then what kind of person was she about to have stroll into her kingdom?

“You're not selling me on this idea at all, you know,” she told him coldly. “If this man is such a bother to you, why do you align yourself with him?”

Pontius smiled at that, though there was no real mirth in his eyes. “Heh...probably for the same reasons that you align yourself with me,” he retorted evenly. “He is very useful, and gets things done. That is about all I can say positively about him. Aside from that, I have known him to be cruel, malicious, and with no regard for life, human or otherwise. He is driven by a mad ambition, as most alchemists tend to be, and is the most dangerous person I have ever met.”

He paused, before slyly amending with “aside from you, of course.”

Cassandra snorted, shaking her head in disbelief. “If he's as bad as Varian was when he was throwing his tantrum and taking it out on Corona, then you've got a lot of gall in assuming that I would ever let a man like that anywhere near Rapunzel. I want her to be safe here, and if I have learned one thing about alchemists or warlocks or wizards, or whatever the hell else, it's that they are the opposite of safe.”

“Dangerous though he may be, he is no rabid dog,” Pontius assured her, though he himself did not sound very assured. “I have explained the situation here to him—he is aware of you and your power, and has agreed to help us with our archdeacon problem. He has absolutely no interest whatsoever in bringing harm to Princess Rapunzel or causing any sort of trouble...at least, not for us.”

“Hmph... But, if he is only an associate of yours, and not part of your shadow organization or whatever you want to call it, that makes me wonder why he would agree to come and help you,” Cassandra pointed out suspiciously. “What does this odious alchemist expect as payment for his services? I highly doubt it will be anything as simple and straightforward as money...”

Pontius winced, splaying out his hands as though he was about to touch a red hot cauldron, which meant he was probably about to touch upon a very dangerous subject matter.

“Well...you are correct, a man like Lazar is not interested in monetary gain,” he started slowly. “In fact, the only way I was able to get him to agree to come all the way out here to Corona was to promise him not a something, but rather a, er...someone.”

Cassandra's brow furrowed with disgust. “Do I look like a f*cking slaver??” she asked acidly. “I don't trade in people as though they are livestock to be bartered or auctioned to the highest bidder. Corona isn't perfect, but we haven't done such a heinous practice since--”

“Oh, perish the thought! I am many things, but a proponent for slavery is not one of them!” Pontius exclaimed, sounding offended. “This is not about slave trading or trafficking, I promise.”

“Alright, then, let's hear it—who does he want?” Cassandra asked, folding her arms over her chest. It probably would have made her look more intimidating if she was not still holding on to the little pastry wrapped in paper.

Pontius cleared his throat, before answering rather shortly—a rarity for him and his fondness for long winded diatribes.

“He wants Varian.”

Cassandra wasn't sure what she was expecting to hear, but it wasn't the name of the boy who she had once befriended, and later fought, and then even later still captured and drugged for her own selfish ends. At this point, she didn't know how to feel about the little twerp who used to have a crush on her, as their history was a mixed bag, to put it lightly. Both had endangered the other's life, and both had attempted to 'get back' at someone who they'd thought had wronged them. Although, in her case, she had been severely misguided...

“Why Varian?” was all she could think to ask after a few heartbeats. “What makes him more valuable than gold?”

“I am not too knowledgeable when it comes to Lazar's reasoning for wanting the lad, but I suspect it is not so much that he wants Varian himself, but rather any knowledge that he might possess,” Pontius theorized. “Varian's actions from last year have spread beyond the borders of Corona. His deeds, while destructive and diabolical, were undeniably impressive; impressive enough to catch the interest of many an alchemist...even Lazar's, which is no small feat. It is likely that he seeks to take Varian under his wing, so to speak.”

“So he only wants knowledge from Varian, and not anything...inappropriate, right?” Cassandra inquired with a grimace. “You say that you're against trafficking and that kind of f*cked up sh*t, but for all I know, this Lazar fellow could have a creepy dungeon filled with boys and girls...”

“I cannot guarantee one way or another where Lazar falls on the 'pro/anti-rape dungeon' scale. I can only promise that during his time here, he will be my responsibility,” Pontius said solemnly. “Therefore, I will make sure that he behaves himself. There will be no such levels of degeneracy permitted.”

“I would hope not. Otherwise, I would have to deprive you of your...associate. Permanently,” the usurper told him darkly. The notion of keeping people captive to be used and abused against their will... It was a subject that she was not used to thinking about, as it was too horrific for her to comprehend how anyone could do such unspeakable acts. Such evil was abundant in the world, and she would have to be thorough when cleansing it from each corner and crevice.

Really? You're going to pretend like you're innocent and oblivious to the fact that YOU are currently keeping someone held captive right now? It might not be a rape dungeon, but this castle is still her prison, and what are you going to do when she inevitably refuses to consummate your sham of a marriage with you tomorrow night? Are you going to force yourself on her anyway, even when she tells you to stop, even when she starts crying? You f*cking hypocritical piece of sh*t--

Cassandra held her free hand up to her forehead, gritting her teeth in distress. The wedding night that she had imagined was supposed to be magical, filled with passion and tenderness. But all of that would be null and void if consent was not first and foremost among those things that would make their first time together a night to remember. And if there was no consent, then those memories would be ones of anguish and despair instead of love and warmth.

This wasn't the time or place to dwell on this. Rapunzel had nothing to fear from her—she was no rapist, and would not put her in such an awful situation.

...Except, she had already put her in a pretty awful situation, what with keeping her held captive here and chasing her family out of the city. Even so, she wasn't like that...she wasn't a monster--

“We could always sic our local resident werewolf on him if he tries anything untoward, eh?” Pontius suggested jokingly, attempting to lighten the increasingly dark mood of the conversation. When he received no immediate response, he sighed. “Was that too edgy? To be fair, I do not often make jokes about such sensitive topics. You...you did get the joke there, right? It's because dear Catalina has prior experience in 'dealing with' such people, as she did back when she--”

“Yes, I get it,” Cassandra snapped, forcing herself out of her reverie and back into the present. “There's just one problem with your little arrangement with Lazar: Varian isn't here. And if I don't have Varian, he isn't going to just help me for free. And if he doesn't help me, then your plan for Royce starts to come apart at the seams.”

Pontius removed his hat, raking a hand through his hair before gesturing vaguely towards the great double doors on the other side of the throne room that led outside. “That won't be an issue, actually. Once Lazar is finished helping us with the special ergot compound, he will track down Varian himself. I have informed him that the boy will likely not be here in the castle by the time he arrives, but hunting alchemists is sort of one of Lazar's specialties, and since Varian is still somewhere in the general region, it won't be long until he finds him. In fact, I believe he prefers it this way, as he always did enjoy the thrill of the hunt...”

He placed his hat back atop his head, then took out his silvery flask and took a swig. “I wanted to know your thoughts beforehand, though, before giving him the stamp of approval to begin his search for Varian. Since, you know...the boy is your friend and all, and I don't want things to be awkward.”

“He was my friend, a long time ago now,” Cassandra amended him callously. “I have no issue with the arrangement. So long as Lazar does his part, he can go and hunt down the little bastard. But I still want Varian alive—if I wanted him dead, I would have killed him the other week when he showed up at the castle. And having two alchemists under my service is better than one...”

“Ah...but, as I have said, Lazar is not with me and my people,” Pontius reminded her carefully. “He is a bit of a loner, and I doubt he will be very interested in staying in one place for long. Not to mention he never did believe in my cause, in making Corona great. He only cares about himself and his own twisted goals.”

Cassandra just smirked, unfazed by the other man's words. “If he is as useful as you say, then I would rather have him on my side working for me, instead of letting such an asset go, or—worse yet—allowing him to fall into the hands of some other kingdom that would use his talents against me. It matters not if he is not with you, or even if he does not believe in setting the world right. He will serve me, as I will not be giving him a choice.”

Pontius didn't look too enamored with that idea, but didn't argue against it, instead simply giving a short bow. “Then I shall leave his fate in your capable hands. I trust that you will make use of him and his skills for the benefit of Corona and the coming age of the new world.”

“Yes...for the benefit of the new world,” Cassandra echoed quietly, her eyes turning distant as she thought about just what kind of world it would be. A world of peace, of justice, of safety and security. The kind of world where people like Medina and Hanna—and herself—would no longer have to live in fear or secrecy. She would likely always have doubts as to whether or not she was doing 'the right thing', but when she remembered the fate of Medina, which had been something she had kept buried and forgotten for the past decade out of grief and trauma, she knew that she was in the right and that this world had to change.

And since everyone seemed to be unwilling to make any real change for the better, she would just have to make them.

The silence began to stretch on, until Pontius clapped his hands together once and began talking again.

“If that concludes our meeting, then I should probably be on my way,” he suggested. “I still need to rehearse for my big role in tomorrow's play! In which I, playing the part of Royce, the Archdeacon, anoint and wed Queen Cassandra and Princess Rapunzel, as well as reassure the masses that you have been chosen by God to lead them into a glorious new era! I doubt I will be able to sleep a wink tonight. So exciting, to have 'The Union of the Sun and Moon' finally be upon us!”

Cassandra groaned in exasperation. “I told you to stop calling it by that ridiculous name...” she told him wearily. “It's a wedding, not a theater play. I only hope that your...mannerisms don't bleed over into your act tomorrow, since Royce isn't nearly as much of an arts lover as you are.”

Pontius laughed, wagging a finger at her. “Fret not, my Queen. Not only am I a fan of the theatrical, I'm somewhat of an actor myself, really. Though, I have never had the advantages that your magic cloak provides, so this will indeed be the role of a lifetime. Speaking of which...might I borrow the cloak from you once more, so that I may better improve my appearance as old Royce?”

“Actually...I will be using it myself for a short while,” Cassandra said with a devious smirk.

“Oh, is that so?” Pontius inquired, raising his brows in curiosity. “And might I ask, where are you planning on going this morning while in the guise of someone else?”

“A wedding isn't complete without a wedding cake,” Cassandra answered nonchalantly. “Thus, I am going to go and pay a little visit to someone who will bake me one for my special day.”

“Hmm...” Pontius hummed, intrigued. “Verner and his team of cooks are quite adept at making all kinds of things, including cakes. They were chosen to be the castle chefs for a reason, you know. I doubt there is anyone else in Corona who could do better.”

Cassandra just grinned smugly. “Oh, but I know of someone better. You're right, Verner and the others are adequate enough, to be sure. They've all been busy with preparing some of the other foods that will be on display tomorrow. But I don't want adequate; not with this. I want the best. So I will take the magic cloak and disguise myself so that I don't cause another mass panic out there, and convince the better option that it would be in their best interest to cooperate.”

Pontius rubbed his chin thoughtfully, before shrugging. “That's fair. I remember for my second wedding—or was it the third? Hm. Either way, I recall being very particular about the floral arrangements. I just had to have white roses—everything was 'color coded', you see, and at the time and place, I was hard pressed to get what I wanted for my special day.

But, being the fool in love that I was, I called in every favor that I had accumulated over the years and set up a wedding that was perfect. The location was set upon a cliff overlooking the sea on a clear warm summer's day, the musicians were each playing masterfully, the food was artfully arranged on the tables, the drinks were kept cold with fresh ice, and I was looking absolutely gorgeous.”

Cassandra's nose crinkled up at that last part. “You talk as if you were the bride instead of the groom,” she commented wryly, not at all liking the mental image of the weird man wearing a dress.

Pontius chuckled, removing his pocket watch from one of his many pockets and glancing at the time. “You should have seen the person I was marrying!” he laughed. “My point is, I get it. You want to make everything perfect, and if one flower is wilted or a single glass is smudged, it feels like you failed the one you love. I have ensured that everything is organized and prepared for tomorrow, but aside from the wedding cake, I must ask: have you procured a wedding ring for Her Highness? You turned away all of the options that I presented to you last week, and I fear that with the clock ticking, there won't be enough time to attain one before you two are walking down the aisle...”

The dark Queen gave a cryptic smile of her own. “I do indeed have a ring in mind...a one of a kind ring that can't be found anywhere else on earth, in fact,” she told him, sounding quite pleased with herself. “I had planned on revealing it to Rapunzel on our wedding day, but since she wishes for me to come and talk with her later, I think I shall show it to her then. What do you think? I never got the chance to do a 'proper' proposal to her back on the day of the eclipse, but proposing the literal day before the wedding might be a bit...unconventional, I guess.”

“Being unconventional does not automatically mean something bad,” Pontius stated. “You two are some of the most unconventional people I've ever met—and trust me, I have met many, many people in my time. I say go for it. Now, if I may be excused? I have to attend to some other matters while you are out recruiting the baker for your wedding cake.”

“Yes, yes, you are excused,” Cassandra said, waving him away. “I will give the magic cloak back to you once I have returned so that you can practice for your role or whatever.”

“I can't wait for you to hear the speech that I've prepared. It'll reassure and inspire everyone in attendance, I'm sure of it!”

“If nothing else, maybe it will be enough to put any potential protesters to sleep...”

After collecting her magic cloak—which had been draped up on the back of her throne—both the usurper and Royal Adviser walked down the steps, continuing their back and forth even after reaching the bottom. Despite the disdain and mistrust that she held for him, Cassandra couldn't deny that he was, funnily enough, one of the only people she could talk to and confide in. Perhaps the real saving grace about him was not his resourcefulness or cunning, but the simple fact that he wasn't afraid of her. Everyone else walked on pins and needles in her presence, but not him.

It was nice and all, but it also made her that much more wary of the man, as anyone who was as confident and cool headed as he was was surely hiding a trick or two up their sleeve. After what had happened with Zhan Tiri, could she ever afford to fully trust anyone ever again?

Pontius paused once they had reached the great doors that would lead them outside, looking uncharacteristically hesitant as she opened the way forward.

“What is it now?” she asked gruffly.

“Hm? Oh, it's nothing, really...”

“After talking my ear off back there for so long, now you want to act all reserved? Come on, spit it out before we part ways.”

He wrung his hands together almost anxiously, before reluctantly complying and asking, “...you didn't actually try to murder the Princess before your victory on the day of the eclipse, right?”

Cassandra froze, her posture turning rigid as she turned to look at him sharply.

“...I assume she told you about that, then,” she said quietly after a long pause.

“Nothing specific, mind you, but she mentioned it, yes. Forgive me for bringing it up out of the blue and springing it on you like this, but...I admit I was concerned. It certainly didn't sound like something you would do...not at all like something that the Cassandra who I spent time studying would even think about. And yet, I know that the Princess does not like to lie...certainly not about such serious and dreadful things like that. Hence why I felt the need to ask.”

You wanna tell him about the time you nearly crushed her to death between two black rocks? Or how about when you left her to slowly die from poisoning in those caves? I would love to see him try and brush that aside with some sh*tty joke and keep pretending like you aren't a f*cking psychopath--

She hasn't forgotten what you've done. And no matter how you try to forget it yourself, you will never escape your sins. Can you imagine how afraid she must be, wondering if and when you'll snap again? Maybe next time she won't be so lucky. Maybe next time, you'll finally--

--such a lying piece of sh*t! It wasn't enough that you lied to Rapunzel and Catalina, but now you have to lie to all of Corona, and the whole damn world! How could you--

--isn't going to end well for anyone--

--can't keep doing this--

--Rapunzel--

Cassandra remained silent and unblinking as the little voice within her mind rose to a nigh indecipherable cacophony, unable to do anything but stare at Pontius numbly before simply walking past him without uttering a word in response.

Pontius did not try to call after her, deciding that it was wise to leave the woman be as he watched her don the magic cloak before leaving the courtyard.

Both of them, for different reasons, came to the same conclusion: some things were better left unsaid.

As Cassandra drifted out into the city, she eventually looked down at the pain au chocolat that was still in her hand, which had gone nearly forgotten in the deluge of her mental battles. Lifting it to her mouth, she stopped walking as she slowly took a small bite. It was the first thing she had eaten since she had stolen the Moonstone, over a year ago now.

She'd never cared much for sweets, as she had always kept herself to a strict diet, but this was a gift from Rapunzel, her soon to be wife, so...she could make an exception in this case.

Her eyes lit up—it tasted amazing, so good in spite of not being warm from the oven at this point. She could taste the amount of effort, the amount of skill, the amount of love that Rapunzel had put into it.

...But as she stood there in the middle of the street, savoring the flaky crust and the sweet chocolate, she could also taste something else; something that made her stop chewing...

It tasted of weakness; the kind of weakness that beckoned her to look back at times long past and reflect on the days from which life had been simpler. Days spent at Rapunzel's side, smiling and laughing and gazing at her with her secret forbidden love in her weak, weak heart.

She could not afford to harbor such weaknesses, not when she desired to be strong, to be perfect.

Giving the pastry a resigned last look, Cassandra crushed it within her fist before casting it aside on the side of the road and resumed her march, steeling her gaze to look forward with clear intent. There was no more room for weakness, not even when it came to her love of Rapunzel.

Power was what had gotten her this far, and what had given her what she had coveted for so long. Thus, it would be power that would ensure that she kept all that she had acquired, stolen, and killed for.