Everything was going well. After courting for an appropriate length of time, Eugene had requested the King's permission to ask his daughter's hand in marriage – which was eagerly accepted by all participants. A couple of years later, their own two children arrived on the scene, and life was perfect.
Until Eugene got sick. Not the 'very sick we need a miracle/magic golden flower' kind of sick, but enough to worry Rapunzel for a week until the fever broke. The young prince and princess had been kept well away from their father, just to be safe. Eventually Eugene recovered, but as he sat in the nursery watching his children play, his thoughts turned darker, reflecting that at least his children would be lucky enough to always have someone to look after them should he be struck down more seriously. What a difference to his own start in life.
In the early hours before dawn, he snuck out of the palace. Rapunzel, woken by the absence in the bed beside her, had her suspicions where he was heading. He had been delirious and talkative during the height of the fever, and she knew what had been playing on his mind.
She left her children under the watchful eye of their nursemaid and, saddling Max, Rapunzel eased the horse in the direction of a run-down building, about half a mile from the centre of the kingdom. The orphanage where Eugene had grown up. Max rode like the wind.
Stepping inside, Rapunzel nearly trod on the tattered remains of a book. Leaning down, her heart broke slightly when she read the faded title: "The Adventures of Flynnegan Rider". Eugene's favourite book was a mess – most of the pages were ripped or torn out completely. It was unreadable and beyond saving. What a shame he had found it like this.
Hearing voices coming from the main hall, Rapunzel edged her way to the door, staying hidden in the shadows, and peered into the room.
Eugene sat on a chair that was too small for him, surrounded by young children, all staring wide-eyed at him. The orphanage manager stood at the back of the room with an amused, bemused look on her face. Eugene looked at each of the orphans in turn – shabby clothes, bare feet – and blinked back a tear. He had to give them something.
"I was going to read you a story," he said, "but the book I wanted to read is long gone."
The children let out a chorus of groans. Eugene raised his hands, placating them. Rapunzel smiled to herself from the doorway; he was a charmer to everyone.
"So, instead of a book," he continued, "what if I told you a special story? One that you won't find in any book."
The children yelled out in excitement. One boy, barely more than three years old, ran forward and climbed onto Eugene's lap.
"Ok... everybody comfortable?" said Eugene. He took a deep breath.
"This is the story of how I died..."
A/N – and... cue movie!