"What now?" Eugene asked as soon as Rapunzel's lips left his. That kiss had been spectacular, but how were they supposed to leave this stupid place?
She cleared her throat, her face an adorable shade of pink. "U-um...er...I-I guess we could...check out the stairway. We might be able to get out that way."
He nodded, and Rapunzel slid out of his lap and helped him to his feet. The shackle that bound him to the post clinked, and they both glanced down at it. "Get me that dagger,"
"What?!" Rapunzel fairly squawked. "You are not going to cut-"
"I can pick the lock with it, Blondie. I'm not cutting that hand off - I'm still waiting for that superhuman strength to kick in," he teased.
Rolling her eyes, she went to retrieve the dagger that Gothel had set by the downstairs entrance.

He didn't really want to teach Rapunzel how to pick locks, but he needed more than one hand. She listened to his directions, though; her eyes wide, and he soon had the lock picked with just the absolute tip of the dagger and a bobby pin that he always kept in his pocket - for picking locks, of course.
When Eugene was released from the chains, he and Rapunzel started down the eerie, dank stairwell.

After what seemed like hours - but in reality, was just under ten minutes-they exited at the base of the tower, blinking against the sunlight. Maximus whinnied heartily as soon as he saw them; he'd been waiting for so long and had begun to wonder if they were ever going to come back out! Rapunzel ran right past Gothel's ashes and dirty cloak to throw her arms around the large horse's neck, burying her face in his warm mane.
"Thanks for everything, Maximus," she mumbled, and the pleased stallion turned his head to nuzzle her shoulder.
Eugene cleared his throat loudly. Of course he wouldn't admit that he was jealous over the attention Rapunzel was giving that horse, but he was nonetheless. "You've got to be kidding me. I died up there for you, and you're thanking the horse!" he crossed his arms in mock disgust, and Rapunzel turned to give him another eye roll.
"Well, he apparently brought you here, so...he deserves to be thanked. Don't you, boy?" she patted his neck one last time before flashing Eugene a curious glance. "How did you escape prison, anyway?"
He was quiet until he mounted Maximus and had helped Rapunzel clamber aboard behind him. When he felt her slim arms slide around his waist, holding on tight so she wouldn't fall off, he clucked Maximus on into a quick, bouncy trot before he started his tale.

They got to the Snuggly Duckling in the evening, and the thugs met Rapunzel with loud greetings, open arms demanding hugs, and drinks all around. Much as Eugene was tempted by the offer of a free, cool, amber-colored drink, he turned it down and opted for water instead, warning Rapunzel to turn it down as well. He knew that if he'd drink as little as a sip of that dreadful liquid, he'd end up not being able to stop, and he couldn't end up drunk - not around Rapunzel, and not when he was still a wanted thief.
The pub thugs didn't ask for details about Rapunzel's escape, nor did they question her new, short brown hair, but the first question that came up was:
"When're you two gettin' hitched?" courtesy of the big-nosed thug.
Safe to say, Eugene choked on his water, his face turning a flaming red color within an instant.
"Hitched...?" Rapunzel asked. You hitched horses to carriages or tied them to hitching posts, but what did hitches have to do with her and Eugene?
"Married," Vladamir supplied.
"O-ooh," now she was blushing, too. "Uh..."
Eugene took in a deep, ragged breath and regained his composure to say, "She's the lost princess."
Rapunzel shot him a puzzled glance. What did that have to do with getting married?
The noisiness and cheerful mood of the pub ground to a stop, and everyone stared at her.
Hook-Hand was the first to speak up. "Oh. Well, it's, uh, it's an honor, Princess." he bowed, and she smiled awkwardly.
Leaning towards Eugene, she whispered, "What? Isn't it a good thing that you found the lost princess?"
He nodded, shrugging, and took another glance at a big glass of that awful, amber drink as the conversation slowly picked back up. That drink could make him forget about her, but he'd have to take her back home safely before he could drown in it. He knew that princesses couldn't marry mere commoners - no, she'd be married off to some uppity, rich little brat from another country, most likely. Someone of importance. Little orphan Eugene Fitzherbert Jr. wasn't of any importance, even if he had found the lost princess of Corona.