Disclaimer: I only own this plot, Edith, and anything else you don't recognize, though I would love to own Tangled.

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Chapter Three

Edith had always been an early riser, even in her early childhood. This morning was no exception to that rule, as she rose long before any of the children, or even Mrs. Ferris, were awake. Dressing herself as quickly and quietly as she could, Edith left her room and walked down the stairs to go outside. Wrapping her shawl closely around herself as she closed the door behind her, Edith slowly made her way towards the small flower garden that she had been tending since she was old enough to understand the difference between flowers and weeds.

A soft smile crossed Edith's face as she idly ran her fingertips over the velvety petals of one of her precious roses. The sun was only barely starting to climb over the horizon, but Edith didn't mind at all. This time of day was her favorite time to be alone in the outdoors, before the air was filled with the sounds of dozens of children laughing and screaming. It wasn't that she didn't love all the children in the orphanage, because she truly did. Edith simply wished that she had more time in the day to herself rather than having to run herself ragged tending to her fellow orphans. Sighing a little at this thought, Edith reached up to rub her eyes tiredly and knuckled the small of her back in an attempt to ease the tension that seemed to always be there.

She was only twenty-two, but already Edith's bones were starting to suffer from the aches and pains that were usually a sign of old age. That knowledge only made Edith feel even more somber. If this was what happened to her joints after running the orphanage for only three years…then what would it do to her to continue in this position until she was an old woman? A sudden pity for Mrs. Miller filled Edith as she stared out at the run-down orphanage and the poorly-maintained grounds that surrounded it.

Perhaps…perhaps she should go to her father…If he truly wished to reconcile with both her and Eugene, then maybe there was a chance that something could be done for the orphanage. More people to work here and tend to the children, repairs to the house…so much needed doing to keep the orphanage running smoothly. So much that was beyond Edith's means at this time, and would be for the foreseeable future. A few bitter tears filled Edith's eyes as she considered all of this, staring fixedly at the house that had been her home since infancy and would probably not be able to survive another winter unless they could get the money to repair it. With her father's help…

But, no. Lord Herbert had never wanted her. Edith knew this well enough. For twenty-two years of her life, she had hoped for some sort of reconciliation with her father, and for all that time she had remained disappointed. Why would he suddenly want her now? Shaking her head with a sigh, Edith ran a hand through her thick hair and turned her attention back to the house. The children would start stirring soon…but for now, she had at least a few moments left to herself.

She almost didn't notice the horseman approaching the orphanage until the man was almost right over her. With a start, she pulled her shawl closer around her body and turned to face the mysterious rider. He was a rather young man, she noticed with a curious arch of her eyebrows, and looked royal, or at least of noble blood from the state of his fine clothing. Moving towards the approaching horse, Edith curtsied politely.

"Is there some way that I can help you, sir?" she asked quietly.

Not only was he a young man, he was also a very handsome one, Edith realized with a slight blush. He could very easily be as tall as Eugene had grown to be, though Edith couldn't really tell while he was mounted on his horse, and he had blonde hair that was well-trimmed. His eyes were a warm brown that made Edith feel much more at ease as she met his gaze, and his mouth seemed more suited to smiling than frowning. The features of his face were neither too sharp nor too blunt, giving him a very well-formed appearance, and from what Edith could see of him, this was no weak lordling, but an athletic young man.

He smiled ruefully at Edith's question and nodded. "Yes, actually," he said with a slight chuckle. "I appear to have lost my way…my father would never let me hear the end of it were he here…"

Edith found herself smiling back at the young man without quite meaning to as she drew even closer. "Where are you trying to go? I would be more than happy to point you in the right direction."

Another smile, this one filled with gratitude and rather dazzling if Edith were perfectly honest. "I would be forever in your debt if you would do so," he said. "I am trying to get to the capitol city, but my horse seems to have taken a wrong turn…"

"They have a habit of doing that, don't they?" Edith chuckled. "Actually, you aren't too far away from the road to the city," she continued, pointing towards the village. "If you go that way, then you will eventually come onto a large road. That road will take you right to the capitol city."

The young man glanced in the direction that Edith was pointing and nodded. "Thank you, Miss," he said sincerely. "Er…not to be too forward, but who do I have to thank?"

A soft blush crossed Edith's face as she met the young man's gaze. "Oh!" she murmured in surprise. "M-my name is Edith Baker, sir…"

"Then, Edith Baker, you have the gratitude of young Lord Jonathan Hughes," he replied, nodding politely. "I shall remember your kindness to me."

"Oh…it was nothing, my Lord," Edith said honestly.

"All the same, you have my thanks," Lord Jonathan said with a grin. "Now, I take my leave of you, Edith Baker," he continued. "But I hope that all will be well with you."

So do I, Edith thought to herself as the young Lord turned his horse around and rode off. Smiling softly as she continued to watch Lord Jonathan ride off, Edith glanced at the sky and ran a hand over her hair to smooth it slightly. Now she should turn her attention to the children.

The remainder of the day went much like any other in Edith's life, with one small change. Throughout the day, her mind was occupied with the thought of a young Lord who had been so genuinely kind to her, though she was clearly no one even close to his social equal. She didn't know why the young man continued to plague her thoughts—if such an unpleasant word could possibly be used to describe someone so kind—but Edith did nothing to stop these thoughts. If anything, they helped her get through the day, which would normally be very difficult, to say the least.

Oh, there were all the usual problems. Children getting into fights with one another and arguing over who was in the right when they were sent to talk to Edith, difficulties with finding the money to pay the butcher and baker for the food they would need, and of course trying to fight the urge to run into a dark corner and have a good cry. But with the memory of Lord Jonathan still fresh in her mind, the last problem seemed to occur less and less often than it normally did. For this, she was very grateful.

That night, however, not even the thought of a kind young Lord could prevent her from feeling something akin to despair. Once more, the servant dressed in her father's livery appeared at the door, his expression unreadable.

"Miss Baker," he greeted in a flat monotone. "I gave your father the message you gave me, and he has sent me to tell you that he is most disappointed that you will not come to give your ill father solace."

"He doesn't need me for that," Edith said a little more sharply than she had intended. Her very good mood—well…better than normal, at least—was suddenly ruined, and she was far from pleased with this fact. "He has his whores to comfort him, after all."

For the first time since he had first arrived on her doorstep, Edith saw surprise in the old servant's expression. She couldn't help a slightly satisfied quirk of her lips when she noticed this, and locked that sight up in her memory for later remembrance. After a moment of regaining his composure, the servant continued his obviously rehearsed speech.

"Your father is most insistent about seeing you, Miss Baker—"

"And I am most insistent about not doing anything of the kind," Edith snapped. "Tell my father for the last time, that if he truly wishes to see me, he will have to find a way to make twenty-two years of negligence up to me. Good evening."

With that, she slammed the door in the old man's face, leaning heavily against the door once it was closed. Taking a steadying breath, Edith turned away from the door and slowly made her way up the stairs. The children were still at dinner, allowing her to enter the three attic rooms that had been made into bedrooms without tripping over toddlers and young children. Once she reached the top of the stairs, Edith made her way to the room on the far left, slowly opening the door and taking in the sight of seven beds, neatly arranged against the far wall. Without hesitating, she made her way to the bed closes to the window and knelt down beside it. Reaching beneath the bed until her fingers made contact with a loose floorboard, Edith gave a slight grunt of exertion as she pulled it up. Shifting so that she could look under the bed more easily, Edith reached into the small hole that was now revealed and slowly pulled out a bundle of letters. Replacing the floorboard with practiced ease, she made her way to her current room and began going through the letters.

Each of them was written to the same person, and each bore Edith's name as the signature. Sighing a little at the memory of writing these missives, Edith began sorting through them, her eyes fixed on the name of the intended recipient of the letters. The handwriting on the papers showed the progression of nearly twelve years in Edith's life, starting with the larger letters from when she was seven and ending with the semi-elegant penmanship of a grown Edith. Once she had glanced at each letter, Edith allowed herself to focus more on the name of the person the letters were written to.

Daddy.

She had written all of these letters with every intention of sending them to the man who was her father, but each time she finished writing, the desire to actually send them withered away. Would her father have answered, had she ever sent him these letters? Edith doubted that very much, though there was a sliver of hope that perhaps, under different circumstances, her father would have read and answered each letter. A foolish girl's dream, yes, but it was something that Edith had clung to for years; the vague hope that somewhere in his heart, her father wanted her.

Standing up with the letters in hand, Edith calmly made her way to her small fireplace and coldly tossed the papers into the flames. No more silly dreams, she silently told herself. From now on, she would make her own way and forget about her womanizing father. Edith had been taking care of herself for years now; she no longer needed a father to protect her.

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Author's Note: Wow…for some reason, the muse was very introspective today. Not a bad thing, I guess. Well! Like I warned you, this chapter is heavily Edith-centric. And in case you're wondering, yes, Lord Jonathan will become very important to the plot of this story. If any of you have read my story Flower Glow, you probably remember who he's supposed to be in Edith's future. For those of you who haven't read Flower Glow…what are you doing reading the sequel? :D I'm kidding. Though, seriously, if you haven't read the story Flower Glow or The Tales of Eugene Fitzherbert, half of the stuff I'll bring up in this story won't make sense, so I recommend that you go read those first before delving into this.

So I managed a quicker update on this story! Don't expect this to become a habit of mine, though I'll try to keep it up. The muse is being very inspiring…just not with regards to more material for chapters in my existing stories. It keeps hitting me with plot bunnies for new stories, so a few more Tangled fics may be popping up in the near future. We'll see. Enjoy this new chapter and review! Reviews feed the muse and the author, after all!