"How are your eggs, miss? Anything too cold? Just let me know and I'll get the cook to send up a new plate right away."

Rapunzel had finished her bath and was now seated at the wrought-iron breakfast table on the Rose balcony, clad in the simple light summer dress Nadine had laid out for her and her short hair brushed and drying in the warm summer sun. She smiled at the dressmaker, who was hovering over her table like a worried hen, and shook her head as she finished chewing her breakfast and swallowed. "No, everything's perfect. Thank you!"

Nadine nodded, although her expression didn't seem too sure, and she turned away from the table to fuss over her nearby basket of mending, leaving Rapunzel to return her attention to the delightful morning sunshine, and the glory of breakfast on the rose balcony.

It really was a perfect breakfast, Rapunzel mused as she pushed her scrambled eggs into a tidy pile that was more easily heaped onto the silver fork she held. Really, the best breakfast and the best morning she'd spent in a very long time.

She had never eaten breakfast outside before. Sometimes – when the air was warm and the sun was shining – her mother would bring berries or warm rolls from town and Rapunzel would sit by her tower window to eat them. A few times, in the early morning hours, she would actually sit on the ledge and drink tea while watching the sun come up, because she loved the fresh bright feeling of the breeze on her face, carrying with it the smell of dew and long grass.

That was as close as Rapunzel ever got to eating outdoors, because at the king's palace the dining hall was one large enclosed stone room. It barely got sunshine through the tiny windows, let alone fresh air. There was a terrace; but it had nowhere to sit, and Rapunzel took one look at it and knew it was not used for enjoyment, only for running troops across in defense. Its sparseness and utilitarian nature matched the rest of the king's palace; there was not a shred of joy to be had there.

But what a difference the rose balcony was! Rapunzel scooped up the last of the eggs and glanced around herself again, drinking in the sheer beauty of her surroundings.

"Miss Nadine?"

Rapunzel glanced toward the open doors that led into her chamber at the same time that Nadine looked up also and said, "Out on the balcony, boy!"

There was a pause, and Rapunzel could just make out the young page standing in the doorway that led from her chamber to the hallway outside. He paused. "Message for you from the doctor."

"Oh," Nadine sighed and got up, smiling at Rapunzel apologetically. "Pardon me, miss, it must be a love note or the boy wouldn't be so shy about reading it to me in front of you! I'll be right back."

With that the dressmaker bustled inside, and Rapunzel took up another forkful of eggs and resumed her contemplation of the balcony surrounding her.

Roses probably grew there once, in the stone flower basins that jutted from the walls and lined the wide curved terrace, but there were other flowers in them now. Purple and blue and lavender colored flowers that Rapunzel didn't recognize, all heaped in large cones of tiny blooms that drooped over the sides of the basins, releasing their fragrance into the air.

Probably they were easier to keep than roses, Rapunzel decided as her eyes wandered over the scene. She remembered her mother muttering often about the roses that grew around her tower, how often they died and how the slightest cold or frost destroyed them.

Usually those words were said on cold mornings, Rapunzel remembered, the kind of gray chilly dawn when she only saw the outside when she opened the window to let her mother inside, and then closed it again quick so the cold wouldn't get in.

She only saw daylight for a few moments on those days. A quick glimpse and then gone, an iron sky with snowflakes drifting down like ashes. Open, shut, and then the only light came from the lamps in her room.

On those mornings her mother talked about the fragility of the roses, how a single night of adversity would kill them. Then she would smile sadly, cup Rapunzel's face in her hands, and say, "Remember, my dear, how you are like those roses to me! One moment of the world's cruelty and I would lose you forever, you would die from the cold and what would the world care? No one out there would mourn you, trust me, but I! I would perish from loneliness! That is why I keep you here, to protect you from the cold of the world."

Here her mother would embrace her, fold her into arms that radiated warmth and security, and Rapunzel would snuggle into that warmth and feel so happy that she had a mother who loved her and kept her safe from the cold and the ashes…

Thunk thunk!

Rapunzel started at the sound, blinked and realized she'd been sitting very still and staring at the sunlit flowers so hard her eyes hurt. She blinked again and rubbed her eyes, looking around to see where that sound had come from.

Nadine? But no, the dressmaker was still inside – Rapunzel peered into her chambers and saw Nadine standing with the page just inside the door that led to the corridor.

Nadine was looking her way, however, and as soon as their eyes met she waved her hand to catch Rapunzel's attention and said, in a somewhat louder than usual voice, "I'll be right back, miss, I have to go find something in my sewing rooms for my husband. That is, if I have your leave."

Rapunzel smiled and nodded, of course, only wondering a little bit what the doctor would need from his wife's sewing rooms. Nadine dropped a grateful curtsey and hurried out of the room with the page.

Rapunzel was alone. And still had no idea where that strange noise had -

Thunk!

Below- that sound came from behind and below her. Curious now, Rapunzel twisted in her chair to look, and when the sound came again rose, walked to the edge of the balcony, and peered over the stone ledge.

There, two stories beneath Rapunzel, lay a courtyard. It wasn't as large or grand as the main courtyard, only about half as wide and separated from the street next to it by a very high stone wall. Several crates and barrels, some broken, lay scattered along the wall, and directly below sat an open wagon with three large barrels loaded in the back. A squire was hitching a dappled horse to the wagon's traces, and talking to someone she couldn't see.

Then a door creaked, and another person appeared, a large man with a bald head who was carrying another barrel on his shoulder. He threw it onto the wagon

THUNK

where it wobbled and settled against the other two.

The man wiped his hands and rubbed his shoulder. "Is the horse hitched up?"

"Yes, sir," the squire replied, tugging the trace rope to make sure it was secure.

"Good," The man sighed and walked around to the wagon's driving bench.

There was more conversation, but Rapunzel lifted her eyes away from the scene, uninterested now that her curiosity had been satisfied.

A breeze blew in from the sea, cool and refreshing, with a salty tinge to it Rapunzel had never experienced before. She stood and inhaled the fragrance deeply, hugging herself and letting its newness sparkle inside of her. She opened her eyes and gazed out at the distant shimmering blue, so tantalizing and full of the promise of adventure.

Soon. Soon her prince would return from the cavalry field and they would go to the sea together. He must be close to being finished, perhaps Nadine had gone to see him in and that's why she hadn't returned yet. Yes, Jasen would stride onto the balcony any moment, sweep her into his arms, and they would be off to the sea -

"Oh, you didn't hear? No pickup at the cavalry field this morning. Durwin said to steer clear."

Rapunzel frowned, her eyes still on the distant sparkling water but – what had she just heard? She leaned over the stone ledge again and looked down.

It was the squire who had spoken, and now he was shrugging at the other man, who was now sitting on the driver's bench with the horse's reins in his hands.

"I dunno," the squire said, looking up at the man and squinting in the morning sun. "Doctor saw me bringin' the wagon out an' said 'is that for Walters?' an' I said 'yeh', an' he said 'Tell 'im not to come near the horse field' an' somethin' about wolves."

Walters – Rapunzel assumed that was the other man's name – dropped his fisted hands in his lap in an annoyed way. "But I've got ten empty barrels to pick up from there! And what's wolves got to do with anything? The woods are full of wolves!"

"Not these kind," the squire replied, shaking his head. "I heard the page talkin' to his brother, these are big red ones, they tore apart the mornin' patrol. Killed one of 'em."

Rapunzel gasped and stepped back from the ledge, so quickly that she bumped into the breakfast table and sent her silverware clattering to the stone floor.

Red wolves! And her prince was out there! Suddenly Rapunzel looked around herself wildly, unable to breathe, the familiar panic pounding in her chest and gripping her throat, tightening it painfully. The sea and the flowers and the morning all went away and suddenly there was only black, black night and a huge gulf between her and her beloved, and her mother had killed the birds and they were all dead -

The next time Rapunzel blinked she was running through her chambers, pausing only long enough to reach beneath her pillow and grab the hilt of the water-dagger King Daenas had given her, which she had hidden there. Then she darted down the stairs, her heart racing, her feet bare and the summer dress hiked above her knees so she could run faster. The hall was empty – maybe – but she didn't even look around, she just bolted through the first open door she saw, and a moment later she was standing in the palace courtyard.

It was early morning still and the courtyard was deserted, the cobblestones cold and damp beneath her feet. Rapunzel looked around in a panic, her breath coming in shallow gasps, red wolves! It was her mother, she was sure, her mother had found them and was trying to kill them, what could she do?

Get to the cavalry yard, she thought as she gripped the water-dagger hilt and tucked into her dress pocket. Get to the prince. Hurry, hurry, her mother might have found him already – hurry -

The large double wooden doors to the courtyard were closed, but the bar that locked them was not down. Rapunzel ran to the left door and threw herself against it, felt the door give, and as soon as there was enough room slipped through the opening and found herself in the street.

The wagon with Walters in it was just going by, and without thinking Rapunzel picked up her skirts again and darted after it. "Stop!"

Walters turned, his eyebrows raised and his eyes wide. He pulled on the horses' reins and the wagon thudded to a halt.

He stared at Rapunzel. She realized she had no idea what she was doing, and stared up at him, frozen.

Walters frowned, then shrugged. "Well? You need something?"

"I - " Rapunzel blinked, tried to take a breath. Forced the panic down, Jasen needed her. "Are you going near the cavalry field?"

"Humph! No," Walters made a face, and looked Rapunzel up and down. "Why, who are you? Kitchen maid needing a ride home?"

Rapunzel's eyebrows went up in surprise and she was about to say no but the word caught in her throat.

Walters harrumphed again and turned around on the bench. "The cooper's shop is as close as I'm getting to that part of town today. Get on if there's room, but hurry up! I've got work to do."

Rapunzel thought very fast. This man didn't know who she was, and if he did know he would very likely send her back inside. Someone would notice she was missing any moment and come out here after her, and she'd never get to her prince then. She had to move fast. She had to run -

But there was no room in the back of the wagon. The barrels were large and filled up the entire space.

That left one option. Rapunzel quickly skirted around the wagon and climbed onto the wooden bench next to Walters.

"What - " Walters began, then glancing at Rapunzel quickly shrugged and scooted a short distance away. "Oh, all right. But no fussing and no chatter! I'm not a royal coach."

Rapunzel nodded agreement and gripped the old, splintered wood of the bench with both hands, not looking behind her. Walters flapped the reins, and the wagon started up the street.

Ormand had just finished reckoning the artillery account, along with eating the last of the breakfast tray that had arrived at his study, and as the clock on his fireplace mantel chimed eight times was grumbling about both.

The artillery accounts were the usual mess – that was to be expected, few of the artillerymen could write and those who could couldn't count. Making the requisitions and inventory match was always a nightmare, and expected.

The breakfast was another thing, and Ormand glared at the empty plate and dirty silverware as he pushed it aside on his desk, as if it had wronged him.

Well, it had. It was cold, and it was late, both for the same damned reason. The page who was supposed to bring it went missing, probably tattling to his friends about the wolf attack, and Ormand had had to yell down the corridor to find out why it had not been brought. Yell, like a commoner! Of course when the page finally came running with it, the coffee was spilled all over the food and the napkin and silverware were all jumbled together.

The idiot child was red-faced with shame and tearfully offered to 'fetch another tray', but Ormand was hungry and cross and barked at the lad to get out so he could get his work done. Ormand refrained from kicking the page on his way out, even though the little wretch deserved it. He did, however, slam the door.

Now the cold, coffee-soaked breakfast was eaten, work was begun, and Ormand found himself glaring at the empty dishes and still fuming. It was childish, he knew, and unproductive, but he couldn't get past it.

I need to take a walk, he decided impulsively, and left the office to stomp down the empty corridor. The prince was at the cavalry grounds, Durwin was with him, and most of the staff was either still sleeping or occupied in their chores. Ormand supposed that silly commoner Rapunzel was eating breakfast in her chambers, like the proper royalty she wasn't. That left the halls deserted, which was fine with Ormand. He wanted to brood.

Always he was last, he seethed as he harrumphed toward the main hall. Always he was not a priority. Once no one would have dared slight him; when the prince was young and a steward was needed, Ormand had gotten the respect he deserved. Now it was cold breakfasts and 'oh, sorry, forgot you were here.'

Ormand's eyes narrowed as he reached the entrance to the great hall and his gaze travelled to the portraits that hung there. The king and the queen, with their carefully groomed and pampered brats. The foreigner queen and her useless offspring. So much power, and not enough of it his. Wrongfully, stupidly, none of it his!

But not for much longer. Morrine had promised. All Ormand had to do was wait, play his part, and that injustice would be fixed. He would have to be careful, of course, because once Nimianae's brat was dead he would be suspected of being involved. And Morrine had promised him the death blow, so of course he would be involved.

How to manage that? Ormand frowned and squinted at the prince's painting, that ridiculous one of him holding the scallop shell and standing at the balcony wall. Ormand studied the young man's build, his height, trying to gauge how the murder would go down. He was taller than Jasen, and broader, so overpowering the prince would not be a problem, but Ormand did not like pain and wondered if he could kill the prince without being injured himself.

He would ask Morrine about that. She would make sure he was safe, cast a spell or something. She wanted Rapunzel and he was giving her what she wanted. She owed him. Just like the royal family and the kingdom owed him, for his years of dedication and selfless devotion of his intellect to preserving this wretched country. Everyone owed him.

And now, he was going to make certain they paid.

That thought cheered Ormand somewhat, and he turned to make his way back to his study when he noticed that, for some reason, the door leading to the courtyard was hanging open. Frowning, he glanced up and down the hall, but there were no pages around for him to give an order to. Sighing heavily, he walked to the door and grasped the handle to close it himself.

It was a bright sunny morning outside, but Ormand only glanced at the courtyard, as he always did. But at that moment he noticed the large double doors leading from the courtyard to the street were also open, and a goose was at that moment wandering through the doorway into the courtyard.

"Oh, hell," Ormand muttered. He hated geese, they messed all over everything and if that beast got in the palace he'd be slipping on droppings all day. He strode out into the courtyard and, just before the goose could turn around and notice him, he snatched the bird up in his strong hands, pinning its wings to its sides, and hurried toward the door. He pushed the door open with his foot and prepared to toss the fowl out into the street.

A moment's thought made him hesitate, however, and as the bird turned its beady eyes toward him he leaned in close and whispered, "Morrine?"

The goose blinked stupidly at him. "Honk."

"Hey!"

Ormand looked up. A young boy in peasant clothes was running across the street, his tiny fists raised in anger and his curly red hair flying.

"Whatchoo doin' wit' my goose!" the child demanded.

Ormand quickly dropped the bird and pushed it with his boot – maybe kicked it – toward the boy. "Getting it out of the palace courtyard. You're lucky I didn't order it executed!"

The goose flapped its wings and waddled behind the boy, who squinted up at Ormand suspiciously. "Was you talkin' to it?"

"Don't be absurd!" Ormand answered, embarrassed now and covering it the way he always did, with fury. He looked away from the boy, up the street at nothing, and turned to go back inside. "Get out of here."

"You was talkin' to it, I saw you," the boy insisted. "You some kind of ninny?"

But Ormand wasn't listening to the boy anymore. He had blinked, and suddenly realized that the 'nothing' he was looking at up the street wasn't nothing – it was the back of a moving wagon, very small as it was far up the street but he'd recognize Walters' empty wine barrels anywhere. It was Walters, likely on his way to the cooper's.

And sitting next to Walters was a young woman with short blonde hair wearing a blue dress.

"Rapunzel!"

Nadine's voice, from deep inside the palace. Ormand heard it once, then again, stared at the girl sitting next to Walters as the wagon grew smaller, smaller, then turned a corner and disappeared.

"Rapunzel!"

Ormand knew what he was looking at, who he was looking at, but he didn't understand it at all. Why was Rapunzel leaving the palace grounds with Walters? It didn't make sense. And anyway, what if something happened to her and he couldn't hand her over to Morrine?

"Hey!"

Ormand blinked, looked down. The belligerent little boy was glaring up at him, squinting at him in freckled fury.

"Hey, mister," the child scowled. "Ain't you got ears? I'm talkin' to you!"

"Rapunzel!"

Ormand shook his head, annoyed, and stepped back toward the open gate. He fished in his pocket and found a copper coin, threw it at the boy's feet for no reason he could think of except he was buying the child's silence against anything that might come later. Given the way the boy squealed with delight and dived after the copper, he was certain he'd done the right thing. He hurried back into the courtyard and closed the door behind him.

At that same moment Nadine came out the palace door, looking around in confusion, her face flushed. Her eyes met Ormand's and she blurted, "Have you seen Miss Rapunzel?"

Deciding to see where this led, Ormand shook his head and arranged his face to look as blank as possible. "Did you lose her?"

"Well, I guess so!" Nadine remarked, putting her hands on her ample hips and turning her gaze around the courtyard. "I went to help the page find some more cotton batting in case Durwin needed it, and when I went back to her chambers she was gone. But where could she go?"

Ormand shrugged. "Wasn't she going down to the beach? Perhaps the prince came back early and escorted her there."

But Nadine shook her head. "Oh, no, he'll be at the calvary field helping Durwin for hours, he's just like his mother, never can stay away in a crisis. Oh!" Nadine's hand flew to her mouth and her face paled. "What if she found out about the wolves and went to go be with him?"

Ormand frowned. "Would she do that? She hardly seems the type to want to go looking for danger. More like a hothouse flower if you - "

"Oh, no, you have no idea," Nadine's hands fluttered in a panicked way about her hips, and she turned to go back into the palace. "And there's no one here to escort her, they're all at the fields, I'm sure she set out by herself. If anything happens to her the prince will never forgive me!"

The idea struck Ormand so hard he actually staggered a bit. "I'll go look for her."

Nadine was on the top step of the doorway leading into the palace. She turned and looked at him. "You will? But - "

Ormand tried to smile kindly – he wasn't sure if he was doing it right – and put one hand on Nadine's arm. "Ma'am, who else is there to go? I have a good horse, I can have him saddled up in five minutes, the stablehands will make sure of it. I'll go fetch the maid and bring her right back here until the prince returns."

Nadine turned back and forth on the steps, clearly distraught over the missing girl, and Ormand watched her actions and inwardly gloated. He knew she wouldn't question him volunteering to do what was clearly beneath him, and that could only work to his advantage. He would ride out, fetch that stupid girl, and tie her down if he had to to keep her from getting herself killed before he could hand her over to Morrine. Nobody was going to ruin this for him now; he was too close, and it was too assured.

"Well, all right," Nadine sighed, and patted Ormand's arm gratefully. "I'll go get her cloak, she might need it if the sea wind kicks up. And please, if you see the prince don't tell him I let her run away!"

"Don't worry, ma'am, I won't," Ormand replied, and as Nadine smiled in appreciation and went inside he glanced from the doorway to the distant street, where he knew Walters was making his way – slowly - through the winding streets of the kingdom. He had told Ormand many times how much he dawdled on such journeys, just to breathe the fresh air and be out of the palace wine cellars for a while.

Ormand always thought Walters was lazy, and a shirker, but today it would work to his advantage. There was plenty of time to catch up to them.

As Ormand turned to go back inside he contemplated that it was a rare stroke of fortune that of all the palace staff to fall in with, Rapunzel would be riding with Walters, the one person Ormand knew was on his side. If anything happened, or Rapunzel said anything of interest, Walters would make sure it worked to Ormand's advantage. He was useful that way. Ormand made a note to himself to ask Morrine not to kill him, at least not before that usefulness ran out.

He went inside to change into his riding clothes, and bellowed for the stable page to get his horse and saddle ready.