The day that killed my childhood was a sweet, late spring evening, at a ball in my parents' home. The chandeliers, resembling upside down cherry trees woven of crystal and twisted metal layered in gold, shone like giant lanterns on the ceiling. Scented candles on the tables glowed warmly. The stars and moon cast even more light through the tall glass windows, white and luminous in the cobalt sky. It seemed as if all the light in the world had come to bless us that May night.
But I did not notice. Instead, I focused on avoiding the numerous princes of the Southern Isles, who were visiting for a few weeks. The ball was to commemorate their arrival; our two nations rarely associated in the past, and Father hoped to forge an alliance, if only to avoid making an enemy. The Southern Isles were notorious for their ruthless military tactics and their powerful navy.
It was easier than I thought. The older ones remained in a tightly packed throng, tucked in a corner of the room. The crown prince, Prince Caleb, was nearly forty, married to the Princess of Resia, and too old for frivolous parties. The next five were also married, but I noticed one of them eyeing the other young, unmarried beauties while his poor, mousy wife looked on helplessly. The unmarried, younger princes mingled freely. Due to their lower status, they were not necessarily expected to marry princesses. They danced, drank, and flirted with the enthralled noblewomen, who hung onto their every word. My job had been done for me.
King Elias I of the Southern Isles spoke with my parents. His gray hair and wrinkled, pocked skin betrayed his age, but his sturdy shoulders and the cold steel in his stare reminded us not to underestimate his abilities. Or his military.
I was seventeen. I wasn't worried about whether the alliance would go through or not. My father, Frederic the Merciful, had never raised an army. There hadn't been a war in twenty-seven years. Our military consisted of the Royal Guard, which focused mainly on the castle and its inhabitants. We posed no threat to the Southern Isles, who would benefit from our prosperous trade and Father's reputation as a master diplomat.
The only thing worrying me was how Father planned to secure the union. Yes, he could talk a man into believing night was day, but for a man like Elias, something tangible needed to be presented. Gold, an army, a bride.
"Your father has crossed the Rubicon; there's no going back," Mother Gothel told me earlier as she brushed my hair lovingly. "If he fails tonight, there'll be blood to pay."
"Father's a good diplomat," I replied. "After all, the king's an old man. He can't fight forever. No one likes war."
"Oh, Rapunzel, you can be so naive sometimes." Gothel sighed, resting her head atop my shoulder as we looked into the mirror together. "Some people do like war. It gives them power. And you have no idea how long and hard some will fight for that."
"Well, it's a good deal for him."
"I'm sure." Gothel's short tone betrayed her fear. She got anxious whenever I had to leave her for, well, anything. She'd lost many things before her life as my governess, and she feared I would be next. I never understood it, but then again, according to her, I understood little of how the world worked.
"It's only a ball," I said, hoping to soothe her fears. "I'll be back soon."
"I know, I know," she snapped, getting up and starting to pace. "But one night could change everything."
"What could happen?"
"Anything!" She ran her hands through her hair anxiously. "There's eleven princes! All of a marriageable age! Who could do anything to you." She paused to catch her breath, then resumed again, even more frantic. "Not to mention assassins. You're a princess, heir to the throne. A literal walking target. And what about the plague? One sneezing servant and we'll be giving you the last rites. Not to mention those catty ladies gossip and tear you to shreds. Flower, can't you just tell your father you're ill?"
I was a "sickly" princess. Sometimes Mother Gothel became so paranoid that I stayed in with a faux illness with her for the night. We'd play cards, cook my favorite hazelnut soup, talk like schoolgirls for hours upon hours. Gothel always dismissed the Royal Physician, taking a vial of medicine to pacify him. The foul tasting medicine was disposed of, and in the sanctuary of my bedchamber, where no one entered without permission, I sang for her.
But I couldn't do that tonight. Father made it clear he needed to provide the image of a kind, strong family to impress King Elias. The narrowing of his eyes suggested that he knew the truth about my poor health. At least part of it. Besides, I was nearly eighteen. I couldn't spend all my time with a governess like a child. I would be queen one day; monarchs did not hide all day with their nurses.
But I didn't dare tell her all that. Instead, I offered my best smile and shrugged. "Afraid not, Mother Gothel. But I'll tell you all about later."
She rolled her eyes. "Rapunzel, please tell me you're not that dense. The king has no wife! She's dead! And with all those boys and an alliance to broker- well, think about it!"
I did think about it. I observed the way the princes and the decrepit king looked at me. The way their eyes traveled up and down my figure. The greedy glint in their pupils as they took in the finery. The monarchs of the Southern royals led Spartan lifestyles, at least by royal standards, to test their strength and prepare them for battle. And I had overheard gossip from servants about Mother and Father looking for an appropriate match for me.
So I kept to the shadows, chatting with occasional nobleman or lady. I danced a waltz with a young duke, wondering if he might catch my interest. Princesses married nobles all the time; Father would have no objections, I figured. But the duke was stunned into silence by the fact that he was dancing with the princess; after our waltz, he dashed over to his friends, bragging about the encounter.
"Did you see that? I danced with the princess with of Corona! I wonder how the old codger think! To think that I might be Prince Consort someday!"
I flinched; my face flushed scarlet. The "old codger" was my father, in the crudest of terms. Not all Coronans admired my father's peaceful policy; where Father saw tact and finesse, others saw weakness.
"There she is!" One of his friends pointed to me. I barely made eye contact, gathering my skirt and moving as far away as possible. A group of ladies tittered; I don't know if they were laughing at me or not, but it came at the worst moment possible.
I sauntered along the wall sullenly. I never fit in at these events. I was either too odd or too dull for society. Everyone knew of my poor health and Mother Gothel's protective nature. Some pitied me and prayed for my good recovery. Most shook their heads, wondering how such a sheltered child would run a kingdom or, in extreme cases, who'd inherit the throne if I died young.
Stupid duke. I can certainly tell who won't be getting close to my crown. But it was my fault. Mother Gothel had been right. I was too gullible, too stupid and silly to see his true intentions. I invited him; I practically asked to be humiliated. Perhaps I'd be better off if my parents arranged my marriage. Then again, I'd have to leave Gothel. Maybe I could just stay locked up in a tower, just the two of us, and live off hazelnut soup and my hair.
I meandered into the crowd, counting down the hours. If Father made me marry Elias, I'd be a widow for most of my life. If Father died, God forbid, I'd be the queen. I'd have to do this every single day of my life, not to mention the countless meetings with Parliament ("a pack of dogs," in Father's words) and marriage to another powerful stranger. There were no other heirs; I certainly wasn't going to pass the throne to Uncle Gilbert, my father's younger brother and an infamous partying drunkard and womanizer. His daughter, Princess Vera, was a year younger than me, but you would never have guessed it based on her demeanor; stiff as a board and cold towards all she considered less intelligent (particularly my side of the family), I sometimes mistook her for a governess or an old lady trapped in a sixteen-year-old body. Mother said a ruler must be able to make her people love her, and Vera was as lovable as a metal statue.
Perhaps it would be best if I died young. I was so caught up in my misery that I didn't notice a portly man bending over right as I passed him. His backside crashed into my hip; the heavy pink over skirt of my ball gown dragged me toward the floor. I didn't even have a chance to cry out before a gloved hand seized mine and pulled me upright.
"Milady, are you-" I turned to face him and barely suppressed a shriek. Prince Hans of the Southern Isles, the youngest son of Elias, stood before me.
Like the duke, I froze, stunned. This was one of the princes, the son of the world's most militant king. I'd seen his brothers' tall, burly frames and their gruff, bearded faces. But Hans looked nothing like them. His silky reddish auburn hair was swept back to reveal a clean shaven (save for a pair of sideburns) fair face, inset with bashful green eyes. A light dusting of freckles turned a plain face into one that made me stop, captivated.
Fortunately, he didn't mind my staring or disbelief, mainly because he only now realized my identity.
"Oh my, I'm sorry I didn't know you were-" He quickly bowed. "Your Highness."
I curtsied. "Your Highness."
He laughed. "I am a visitor in your kingdom and a guest in your home. You needn't defer to me."
"Of course." I blushed. "It just feels right."
"Oh." He smiled. "I have not had the pleasure of meeting you like this, before. Surely we were introduced, but I fear you did not notice me since I was one of eleven brothers. However-" motioning to me "-I cannot say the same about you."
Oh my. I searched for something clever to say, but found nothing. "I- I thought there were thirteen of you."
"Well," he said, his eyebrows furrowing, "my twin brothers, Rudi and Runo, are, eh, absent tonight. I'm not sure if you've heard the stories, but I apologize for any trouble they've caused you."
"Pardon?"
"Oh, why not?" He waved his hand as if he could care less. "They were destined for a bad end anyways. The twins-" leaning in to whisper to me "- ran off last year for a life a crime. I fear they run amok, stealing and trying to make a name for themselves as notorious criminals, in lands on the continent. Like this one."
"Ahh." My gaze fell to the floor as my cheeks burned once more. No doubt I'd embarrassed this kind, handsome man by bringing such a scandal. The alliance would fall through, I'd be disgraced permanently, and Elias's fleet would destroy us. "I'm so sorry."
"It's not your doing." Hans gingerly placed his fingers under my chin and lifted it so that our eyes met.
"Nor yours," I replied shamefully.
"They were always mean to me." Hans shrugged. "You know, they pretended I was invisible for a year."
"That's terrible!" I often felt the same at balls, but I knew I was always welcome with my parents and nurse.
"It's what brothers do." He chuckled. "Besides, you saw how well they've turned out."
"Yes, they're model citizens, no?" We both burst into chortles at that. Several guests glanced at us before returning to their muted conversations.
"I never had any siblings," I confessed. "I wouldn't know anything about siblings."
"Yes, I know." Hans sighed. "You're their greatest joy, I suppose. And heir to the throne- not that titles matter."
"Trust me, I'd rather have siblings. Maybe if I did, I wouldn't be such an odd duck at these gatherings."
"Odd duck?" He raised an eyebrow. "Says who?"
"Everyone." I sauntered over to the table where food and drinks were laid for some wine. "I'm somewhat of a recluse."
"Well, you're quite a social recluse," he said, following me.
"I spend most of my time with my governess; she's… protective." I inwardly winced. Should I have told him that so soon? My encounter with that duke taught me nothing.
"Nothing wrong with having someone that cares about you." He grinned. "My brother Lars stood up for me- sometimes. He's the family historian; if you can't find him, just look in the library."
"What about you, if you don't mind me asking?"
"I don't know. I hate to be predictable." He winked. "Some days I go out horse riding. Other times I train with my sword. I never do anything with my brothers, though."
"So we're both talented at entertaining ourselves." I took a sip of wine.
"Right again." He cocked his head, letting a strand of hair fall in his spring green eyes. "You read people very well."
My chest shook, ready to explode and cave in. I put my glass down, biting my lip to keep from screaming. The all too familiar sensation of my face turned florid returned, but this time I felt as if I were flying above the clouds.
You read people very well.
How could he have known how much I needed to hear that? A tingly, fiery sensation bloomed inside me. I thought I might die young after all, suffocating on joy and… love.
Love. Was this what it felt like? I knew that my parents shared a connection like this, even before their marriage. Mother Gothel's fierce protectiveness stemmed from love, as she reminded me daily.
Royal marriages weren't about love. They served a purpose, some sort of gain. Power, money, new land, an alliance. I dared to gaze upon Hans, who stared back. A knowing levelness in his eyes trapped me, and we watched each for a frozen moment in time.
Finally Hans broke silence, extending a welcome hand and bowing low. "Your Highness, may I have this dance?"
I laid my smaller hand in his larger one. "You may."
We danced for hours. After a final waltz, the clock struck two, and the ball reached its end. The few remaining guests bid farewell before heading for their carriages, yawning. King Elias already retired, along with most of his sons. Hans left me last.
"Till tomorrow, or later today, really," he said, looking at the clock. He gave a final bow and kissed my hand. I sank onto the grand staircase, sitting there in my thoughts again. Gothel found me and herded me back to my chambers, scolding me for being so late. I barely heard her; the only thing I knew was that I was flying. And Hans had shown me how.
Ok this is the first update in a while. I'm really grateful for all the followers and favorites, and I hope to not disappoint.
Yes, this is Frozen's Prince Hans of the Southern Isles. I imagine the Southern Isles to be some, well, islands off the coast. Corona is on the great continent, kind of like Europe.
Rapunzel's characterization will differ from the movie; if she had not been kidnapped, she would have had a closer relationship with her parents and probably a more refined character, as a royal. Also, this tale is grittier, so there will be some harsh angles. However, I hope everything works out. I'll try to update sooner. Thanks!