Chapter One – Family Faces
"Do it again."
"But your highness, I've done it six times now," said the exasperated artist as he peered intently at the canvas before him, vainly attempting to work out what he was supposed to have done wrong.
"I don't care. If this is going into the royal gallery then I finally want my nose to be perfect!" Eugene Fitzherbert, formally known as the kingdom's greatest thief under the nom de plume of Flynn Rider and currently known as the kingdom's prince (which was a jarring transition to say the least), ran one hand through his hair as he glared at the snout the artist had given him. Back when this portrait sitting had started his hair had been pristinely styled (at his royal in-laws' insistence he would hasten to point out if anyone commented on it), however he'd repeated this gesture so often now in his frustration that it now looked as if Maximus had dragged him through a hedge backwards.
"Alright, alright," said the artist with a sigh, "I'll give it another try." Boredom etched upon his features, he dipped a brush into the pot of paint thinner and began to remove the offending nose, as the subject of the painting returned to the model's chair to give him a clear view.
"Eugene," began a tentative Rapunzel, who had been standing back whilst her newlywed husband debated nasal cavities with the kingdom's finest artist, "I know we're supposed to pose for this painting together, but I'm really happy with my half." She made care to emphasise this, in an attempt to soothe the artist's ego. "Do you mind if I leave you two to it?"
"Huh?" said Eugene, who had been concentrating on sticking his nose out so that it was as clear as possible, "Oh, sure Blondie, though I doubt it'll be much longer."
"I wouldn't be so sure of that," muttered the artist under his breath.
"What was that?" said Eugene suspiciously.
"I said don't move," said the artist, "You need to be still." Rapunzel giggled, having heard what the artist had actually said perfectly.
"I'll see you later," she said, before quickly slipping out of the door, breathing a sigh of relief once the bickering men were out of sight. Since the Kingdom had first been founded following the wars just over a century and a half ago, it had been tradition for the King and Queen (or future King and Queen in some cases) to pose for a formal portrait upon returning from their honeymoon, which would then be added to the royal gallery alongside those that had come before. Although she was used to long periods of not doing much at all, getting Eugene to sit still for that long had been a nightmare, so it was a real relief to be able to leave them to it.
"Are they still at it?" Rapunzel jumped slightly at the sound of her mother's voice behind her, still not really used to people being able to sneak up on her like that. The King and Queen had been called into the room the first time the painting had been 'completed', only for Eugene to throw a minor tantrum at the sight of it.
"I think they'll be at it for a while," said Rapunzel, turning to face her mother with an amused expression, "I don't know what it is but Eugene's nose seems to be impossible to copy."
"Your father's chin was the same," said the Queen with a twinkle in her eyes, "I think the whole reason he grew the beard was to solve the problem." She sighed. "Of course it was too late to save our portrait. He refuses to look at it these days." Rapunzel tilted her head slightly as a thought struck her. In spite of all this talk of portraits she had never actually seen the collection in question. The royal gallery was high up in one of the less-accessible towers, and with everything else that had been going on she simply hadn't had chance to venture up there.
"Could you show me?" asked the Princess eagerly.
"Of course," said the Queen in an amused tone, "but you mustn't tease your father about it later." Side by side, the two slowly made their way through the palace, passing through several long corridors, two courtyards, and finally into the southern library, at the rear of which was located the long, winding stairway that led up to the gallery. Exactly why the paintings were stored in such a remote location no-one was sure of, although the most prevalent version of events was that Queen Soleil (Rapunzel's great-grandmother, whose wedding ring she now wore on her hand) had formed a strong dislike for the collection. Whatever the case, with the current King's dislike for his own entry, they hadn't felt any need to move it to a more accessible location.
"Goodness, it has been a long time since I was last in here," said the Queen as they finally reached the top of the tower and pushed open the gnarled oak doors, "it's fortunate that the servants have prepared for your addition, otherwise I think we'd have a great deal of dust to contend with." Rapunzel was barely listening to this however, for as soon as the door had opened she'd rushed forward to look at the paintings. Her father's chin was indeed rather misshapen on the canvas and she giggled at the sight, making a mental note to bring Eugene up here to see it if he protested about his nose for much longer. Amusement soon gave over to fascination however, as for the first time she stared up at relatives of hers who were long dead.
"There's my ring!" she exclaimed excitedly as she moved onto the painting of Queen Soleil and King Astor, pointing up at the hand of the woman in the picture as she did so.
"It was my grandmother's prize possession," said the Queen as she joined her daughter, "she lived to the ripe old age of a hundred and eleven you know, so her children and her grandchildren were already married by the time she died. Still, it was her last wish that if I ever had a child that they would use her ring when they were married." Smiling, she pulled her daughter close to her. "I'm glad it finally came to pass." Rapunzel smiled too and hugged her mother, however when she pulled away to look at the final painting, which she expected to show her great-great grandparents, who had been the ones to found the kingdom, she was met with surprise. The painting was only half the width of the others, and showed only the King, a severe looking man named Quintus.
"Didn't he marry?" asked Rapunzel in confusion.
"He did," said the Queen, "but I gather it wasn't a happy marriage. Look here." She pointed to the edge of the painting, where the King's hand could be seen intertwined with another, presumably belonging to a second person out of frame. "Apparently he had that half of the painting burnt when their union came to an end."
"What happened to them?"
"His wife, Amara, was accused of witchcraft, of all things," said the Queen disapprovingly, "they say she bewitched the King to fall in love with her, and planned to take full control of the throne." She shook her head and turned away. "All nonsense of course."
"Why did they think that?" said Rapunzel, still burning with curiosity.
"I couldn't say," replied the Queen, "her daughter, my grandmother, refused to talk about it, even to me." She turned back to face the Princess. "If you're really interested in it then you should talk to Sir Keane, the royal librarian. He knows more about this kingdom's history than anyone else."
"I think I'll do that," said Rapunzel, joining her mother again as they made their way out of the room, "thank you for showing me this place!"
"You don't need to ever thank me dear," said the Queen seriously, "I'm only sorry I couldn't show it to you years ago." And with that, the two of them made their way back down the stairs, leaving the eternally still faces of the former Kings and Queens behind them.
The spectre existed. That was all that it was sure of, and although that didn't seem like much, it was certainly a great deal better than being sure that you didn't exist. What it was, even it wouldn't be able to tell you, even if it had a corporeal body with which to say it. It had no memory of who it was, or how it had come into being. It only knew that it existed, and wanted to continue to do so. No, it didn't just want to continue existing; it wanted to exist in some form better than this one. Unfortunately it had no idea how to do this. All the spectre could do was spend its days drifting through the forest, vainly searching for something it didn't know, in the hopes that it might become something it couldn't remember. Because whatever it was, that had to be better than this.
The palace's north library was far grander and boasted a far larger collection than its southern counterpart, with several tomes in its collection supposedly being older than the kingdom itself. Eager to absorb as much knowledge about the world as possible, Rapunzel had spent a great deal of time in here since her return to the castle, yet in all of that time had never really spoken with the librarian. Sir Keane was a curious little man who tended to keep himself to himself, and on the few occasions that they had exchanged words he had reminded her more of one of the mice that had occasionally found their way into her tower than a human. If there was one thing about him that could be counted on however it was that he would always be in the library, for if rumour was to be believed then he didn't even leave in order to eat.
"Sir Keane!" called out Rapunzel as she meandered between the bookshelves, "May I talk to you please?" She had enjoyed a brief lunch with her mother following their talk in the royal gallery, during which Pascal had joined her, and thus the chameleon was now sat faithfully on her shoulder, neck craning as he too looked around for the librarian. There was a brief scuffling sound from the other end of the library, and eventually Sir Keane emerged from behind a bookshelf, a large stack of tomes weighing him down.
"Oh," said Rapunzel as she quickly rushed over to him, "here, let me help with them."
"Thank you dear," squeaked the librarian as together they manoeuvred the books onto one of the more sturdy looking reading tables, "I was appalled to find that someone had returned all of these to the wrong location, and got a little... overzealous in my attempts to correct it." Glancing at the titles in the list, Rapunzel was rather embarrassed to realise that they were all books that she had been studying the last time she was in here, and suddenly wished that she still had her long, golden hair to hide her blush.
"I'm sure it won't happen again," she said quickly, as on her shoulder the chameleon chuckled.
"Now then," said Sir Keane, leaning on the table for support as he did so, "what can I help you with?" One thing that she had noted about Sir Keane in their previous brief encounters was that he was one of the few people in the kingdom who didn't refer to her as 'your highness', or some other equally grandiose title, not that she minded in the slightest.
"Mother said you were the one to ask about the kingdom's history."
"Did she now?" said the librarian, blinking several times, "I didn't think anyone noticed me that much." He scratched his head with one long finger. "Was there anything in particular you wanted to know about?"
"Well, I was just up in the royal gallery, because I've just finished sitting for my own portrait, you see, and I wanted to see what it was..."
"Quickly dear," said Sir Keane, "these books still need to be sorted."
"I want to know about Amara!" said Rapunzel hastily, "the former Queen that is. My great-great grandmother."
"Ah, the Morrigan," said Sir Keane, in a faintly amused tone that took the Princess completely by surprise, "I should have guessed."
"The Morrigan?" repeated Rapunzel in confusion.
"The Nightmare Queen," explained the librarian, "that's what they called her." Before Rapunzel could inquire further however he had hobbled away from her and disappeared amongst the bookshelves, leaving the Princess completely unsure of whether she should follow him or not. She glanced down at Pascal, however the chameleon simply shrugged, looking as confused as she was. Fortunately he returned after only a few minutes, now carrying another book, one that was far older than any in the pile he had been burdened with before. "I thought you would ask me about her sooner or later."
"How did you know?" asked Rapunzel uncertainly.
"Because my dear, in spite of what you may have been told, you're currently wearing her ring." Rapunzel gasped, the golden band on her finger suddenly feeling far heavier, and far colder, than it ever had before.