AN: Today's featured song is Blood in the Cut by K. Flay. It just... it gives me Stalyan vibes. That's all I can say, and that getting into her head a little for this chapter was really fun. Also, it sort of kills me to refer to Eugene as 'Flynn' while writing from Stalyan's point of view. It's one of my pet peeves when people still refer to him as Flynn Rider, ten years later. Like, HELLO, he's sweet, loyal Eugene Fitzherbert now! Treat him as such! But, for the sake of the story, Stalyan is going to call him Flynn, because I don't think she'll come around to the whole 'Eugene', 'changed man' thing for a while. If ever.
Regardless, I hope you enjoy the new chapter! It's Rated M, for sexual content and references.
Chapter 13: The Boy I Love's Got Another Girl
Stalyan slinks down the marble hallway, admiring the many paintings littering each wall. She wonders how much each of them are worth, making a ballpark estimate, using her extensive knowledge of the black market. She's trying to spend some time memorizing the layout of the palace, knowing she's going to be sticking around for a while.
Every good thief knows the layout of any job site like the back of their hand – and she's a great thief.
Eyeing the valuable wall art, Stalyan halts in front of a massive portrait, studying its subjects closely. This particular painting is far bigger than all the others, showcasing none other than the royal family. The king, with his greying beard and stoic expression. The queen, with a soft smile, her hands clasped elegantly against her front. The princess… with a wide grin, looking like the embodiment of human sunshine, her crown like a halo resting upon her choppy hair.
Stalyan shakes her head, willing herself to pull her eyes from the piece, from the many art pieces – paintings which are so vulnerable here in the empty hallway, practically begging to be taken.
Focus. That's not what you're here for. The money can wait.
Stalyan continues her journey, which has no particular destination. Her mind easily drifts, latching onto other things, more important things. Like Flynn, and his relationship with the princess, which has to be some sort of ploy, some kind of grand scheme. There's simply no way that Flynn could actually fall in love with someone so gullible, so... unworldly. He must be hiding something from the both of them, something big. Because there's simply no other plausible explanation for Flynn Rider, of all people, to fall in love with the princess.
Not to mention, the princess is married now, to a prince from the Maddoline kingdom. And Stalyan knows that Flynn wouldn't be dumb enough to mess around with a married royal… unless there was a really big payout waiting for him at the end of the tunnel.
Otherwise, the relationship that he's maintaining with the princess just doesn't make sense. Not even a little.
'Thieves belong with thieves.'
That's what her father has always said, and Stalyan has never had a reason not to believe him. Flynn Rider and Stalyan. That makes perfect, fated sense. It even sounds cool. Flynn Rider and the princess? Stalyan isn't sure that anything can convince her of the validity of that relationship, because she knows in her heart that she and Flynn are meant to be.
It's also called being in denial. But Stalyan will never admit that, nor has the notion of her delusion even crossed her mind.
The Baron has also said that Flynn Rider is a coldhearted backstabber who can no longer be trusted, and that he'll never understand why his daughter has remained so infatuated with the 'good for nothing traitor' after all this time. But that's a small, unimportant nuance to be worked out later. It's never been too hard for Stalyan to bend her father to her will, and getting him to allow Flynn to rejoin their operation is no exception. All she must do is pull out the puppy-dog eyes, and she's home free. So, if she wants Flynn Rider back, though her father might not approve, she knows that he's not going to stand in her way.
Stalyan had thought a million times about what she would do, what she would say, when she saw Flynn for the first time since their wedding day — well, more accurately, since the day they'd almost gotten married, when he'd left her standing there alone at the altar like some sort of lovesick fool.
She knows that she should probably still be angry with him, angry enough to never want to see him again. Most women would be, and she was, for a long time. Stalyan has always prided herself in her capability to hold a mean grudge, and she worries that she's going a bit soft by being here. She knows that it makes her a little pathetic to be here in Corona, chasing after him as though he isn't the one who'd left her – and not just left her, but left her at the altar, of all places.
Flynn Rider is a selfish, unreliable bastard, but Stalyan can't help it — she still wants him. Bad.
He does seem different, Stalyan will admit. Less eager to charm her pants off, more sincere, perhaps more mature. Softer, somehow, and more… put together. Stalyan begins to wonder if the princess really has had that significant of an effect on him, to make him go soft like that. But the Baron's daughter has seen Flynn Rider outsmart, and flat-out lie, to the faces of the cleverest crime bosses and get away with it. For this reason, the idea that he's turned it all around doesn't hold much weight, if you were to ask Stalyan. The whole 'I'm a changed man' angle might be working on the princess, but Stalyan is careful not to be so naïve. Though she loves Flynn – or rather, though she believes that she loves him – she knows better than to completely trust him.
He looks better than ever, though. Flynn has always had a naturally sexy, charming demeanor about him, but he's really grown into himself in the last few years. Stalyan had met Flynn, along with Lance (back when he was still going by Arnwaldo), when he'd been a scrappy kid just barely in his teen years, a young man fighting for a place in the world after growing up in an orphanage. Then, he was still a little awkward and unsure of himself – a far cry from the confident, slightly egotistical Flynn Rider persona that he would mold over the years.
But now, he really looks and acts like a man. With lack of a better term, he all but looks like a Greek god most of the time, like he'd been crafted by heaven itself, so that every woman who met him would spend the rest of her life in longing. Before the other night, it had been months upon months since Stalyan had last seen Flynn – the longest they'd ever gone without running back to one another. In their time apart, Stalyan had almost forgotten how good looking he is.
Almost, but not quite.
You never completely forget a man like Flynn Rider. And really, Stalyan reasons, that's exactly why she's here in the palace – because she can't forget what they'd once had, the thrill that he'd so often provided her. The inability to let go of him hasn't been for a lack of trying. As weak as it may make her (and Stalyan despises feeling weak), she can't forget him, no matter what she does. She's tried it all: sleeping with other men, immersing herself in her work, declining jobs in Corona for a year. But he's infiltrated her mind, entrapping her in a gold, Flynn-shaped cage, and she can't set herself free – especially not with the knowledge that someone else wants him, too. And Stalyan doesn't plan to go down without a fight, because that's just not her style.
Even if she has to fight the princess. Especially if she gets to fight the princess.
Because, yeah, there's plenty of other men out there. Stalyan has had her way with enough of them to know. Her father had attempted to convince her, frequently, saying: 'There are plenty of men who would be so lucky to have you, so lucky that they would never dream of letting you go; Rider just didn't realize what he had.' There are so many men, in Corona alone, who would fall at the feet of an intelligent, mysterious, beautiful woman like her, and Stalyan knows it. Men who surely wouldn't ditch her at the altar. But they wouldn't be Flynn, which means they would never be good enough. They would never measure up.
No matter what another man could bring to the table, Flynn would always steal it away.
Regardless, this time apart from him, however long it's been now (it's easy to have a warped sense of time when you're a thief for a living), has been far too long for Stalyan. Typically, one of them would reappear at the other's door after a few weeks of falling off the grid, or the day or two after a particularly explosive argument. This time apart, no matter how long, was never fueled by a high amount of insecurity that the other wouldn't come running back. They would always suspect the reappearance of the other to occur eventually, usually sooner rather than later. There was always an unspoken rule: 'Don't speak of whatever you did, or whoever you did, while we've been apart, so we can fall right back into bed like the whole thing never happened.'
In all honesty, Stalyan had started to get a little worried when a few months had passed, and she still hadn't heard from Flynn. It was completely unlike him, to disappear without a word – well, to disappear for more than a few weeks at a time. For a while, she'd been absolutely furious at him for the way he'd decided to skip town on their wedding day, of all days; the kind of furious that soaks itself deep in your bones, making its home there. But, with time, she'd gotten over it, convincing herself that he'd gotten cold feet, or that he'd been offered a job opportunity he simply couldn't refuse, and that was why he'd skipped town. Not because he didn't want to marry her – because he loves her, and of course he'd wanted to marry her – so there must be some other explanation as to why he'd left the way he had.
Stalyan had tried to track him down a few times after the wedding – a few more times than she'd like to admit – with no success. But, duty called, and she had to help her father with a few important jobs. She would soon become too preoccupied with the family business to scour the countryside for a man who clearly didn't want to be found.
It had hurt, badly, knowing that Flynn was capable of disappearing on her like that, on such an important day. It was as if the many years they'd spent together didn't mean anything to him, and his unexplained disappearance hadn't done any favors for Stalyan's already deeply imbedded trust issues. But, life goes on, and thanks to Flynn, Stalyan had found a few decent coping mechanisms. Namely: one-night stands with other men, plenty of alcohol, and losing yourself in your work.
All three do wonders for nursing your wounds through a nasty breakup. But, Stalyan had quickly learned, they don't really do the job when it comes to actually healing from the breakup. Hence, her strung out, long-awaited decision to infiltrate the palace and win Flynn back.
Her father, with no lack of trying, hadn't been able to convince Stalyan to let go of Flynn completely. But he had convinced her not to leave their successful thieving operation just to find him – at least, until now. For a while, she'd actually listened to her father's advice, his advice that all but said: 'I will never trust Rider again, and neither should you.' Sometime later, Stalyan had caught wind of the news that the lost princess of Corona had finally been found, after eighteen years of searching for her. She'd actually felt happy for the king and queen, after considering how heartbreaking it must have been for them to lose their child in such a selfish, traumatic way.
After all, even thieves have a heart – sometimes.
But then, Stalyan had caught wind of who had found the lost princess. And suddenly, she wasn't so happy for them anymore. And suddenly, she wasn't so eager to heed her father's advice to stay away from Flynn for good.
Stalyan had heard the stories, about how Flynn Rider had found the lost princess. How he'd selflessly rescued the princess from her captor of eighteen years, how he'd bravely sacrificed his life for her – the way he'd escaped prison, the way he'd gone back for her, back to that tower of hers where he'd initially found her. He'd gone back, risked his life, for what Stalyan had assumed would be a pretty penny in reward money from the king and queen.
But Stalyan's ears had especially perked when someone had claimed that Flynn Rider, thief extraordinaire, always the kind of man who keeps himself at arm's length from just about everyone, had fallen in love with the princess. She'd been in a dive bar in the next kingdom over the first time she'd heard that rumor circling, and she'd slammed her mug violently to the table, letting the beer spill to the floor. That had been over a year now, meaning her jealously has had a lot of time to stew; plenty enough time for Stalyan to concoct a well-devised plan to intercept Flynn, and subsequently convince him to return to Vardaros with her.
Vardaros – the kingdom where they had concreted so many memories together – the kingdom where he belongs, doing what he's meant to be doing: stealing valuable shit with her, and making a lot of money for it. Not frocking in a palace with the freaking princess. Whatever big scheme he has going on here in Corona, she's going to have to convince him to let it go and leave with her, if he's not willing to let her in on it. Flynn didn't seem too convincible in his bedroom on the night she'd first arrived – at least, not as bendable to her will as he used to be – but Stalyan would change that, breaking him down with time.
All Stalyan needs is a little time, and of course, some sex appeal. Thankfully for her, she has plenty of both. Probably, a lot more of both than the princess has.
When Stalyan had finally seen the princess in person for the first time, after a year of imagining what she would say to her if they ever did meet, well... the jealousy had all but boiled over, right there on the floor of the princess's massive bedroom. Princess Rapunzel was rather unimpressive, if you were to ask Stalyan, but she hadn't expected much different. For this reason, the fact that Flynn had done so much for her, things he'd never done for Stalyan, had only caused that fiery jealousy to grow, the flames licking at her insides painfully.
First of all, the princess is only nineteen, for crying out loud. With Flynn smackdab in the middle of his twenties, it didn't seem to make sense that he would fall for someone so immature, so… inexperienced. If Stalyan knows Flynn well, and she does, she knows that he doesn't usually go for the inexperienced types. He likes a woman who knows what she's doing. Who wants to spend all of their time teaching someone everything, having to guide them through every little motion? Where's the fun in that?
Regardless of her age, the princess seems rather ditzy, far too cheery for her own good, and she has the worst trait any person could possibly have: trust. When Stalyan had been in her bedroom, posing as the unnamed maid, the princess had been so kind to her, so clearly eager to make a new friend. She's one of those people who sees the best in others, and then tries to change them, Stalyan has gathered. Gross.
Stalyan just hopes that the princess hasn't actually changed Flynn too much, that she hasn't dragged him to the point of no return. Because if she has, if the princess really has dug her claws into him like the rumors say, Stalyan isn't quite sure what she's going to do from there.
If Stalyan had really thought this whole thing through, she would've kept her identity a secret to the princess forever, pulling the rug from under the princess's feet without so much as a warning. That would've been funny, to have the princess wake up one day, and realize that Flynn was simply gone. Unfortunately for Stalyan, she honestly hadn't anticipated the princess to show up at Flynn's bedroom on Christmas Eve night, and she hadn't previously known that Flynn was having an affair with the married princess beforehand. Smart as he was, he'd given up that information all on his own. That newfound knowledge had made Stalyan's blood boil, though she tried her very best not to show it.
He'd been so apologetic, so eager to get the princess to listen to him that night, and it had been like music to Stalyan's ears to listen to them argue over her in the hallway. Walking into Operation Win Flynn Back, Stalyan had no idea what Flynn and the princess's relationship would be like, or where they would stand, what with the princess being newly married.
Stalyan had heard the rumors about Flynn and the princess being in love, the rumors that he'd changed his thieving habits for her. But she'd also heard the stories about the princess being married off, and the news had admittedly caused Stalyan's heart to jump with hope – something she didn't allow herself to feel very often. A large part of her had prayed that Flynn and the princess would be on the outs when she arrived in Corona, and that stealing him away would be a cakewalk. But, unlucky as Stalyan was, the princess showing up at his bedroom door had proven that this wasn't completely true, and that Stalyan would definitely have her work cut out for her, if she really wanted to get Flynn back. His reaction to her being here, his reaction to the princess realizing she was here, and that he'd hidden something like an engagement from her, had proven to Stalyan that Flynn would not be an easy man to win over.
It wasn't anything she couldn't handle, but she would have to be intentional about her plan of action.
If Stalyan knows anything about people, it's this: trust no one. She'd learned that lesson from two key players in her life: her father, and Flynn. Really, she'd learned a lot from Flynn over the years, like how to pick a lock, and how to fool around with your dad in the room next door, and not get caught. They'd been through so much together, including the melodramatic moments of your teenage years, in which everything appears to be much more significant than it really is, when every emotion feels heightened. Regardless, their youth is shrouded with memories of one another. And that's why, Stalyan has convinced herself, she and Flynn had been perfect for one another back then, and still are now. The princess, what with her pastel wardrobe, her warm personality, and her forthcoming trust in people, couldn't possibly be the right fit for Flynn. She's everything he'd never wanted in a woman. Stalyan would know.
The princess has everything that she could ever want, as far as Stalyan is concerned. The girl has a prince of her own, a prince from a well-off kingdom (a rather good-looking young man; not as good-looking as Flynn, but that's beside the point), a palace, and an entire kingdom which unrightfully adores her. An entire kingdom, which basically falls at the princess's feet, all because she'd been missing for most of her life. She has more money than she could ever know what to do with, and she hadn't worked for a single penny of it. At the very least, Stalyan works for what she has.
Maybe not legally, or honestly. But she works for it, regardless.
All the things that have been handed right to her, and the princess needs Flynn, too? What a selfish, greedy bitch.
Wandering down the empty palace hall, Stalyan idly wonders if Flynn has taken the princess's virtuous little virginity yet. Stalyan considers how these royal types act about such normal things, as if the young, pure royal heirs were to be soiled forever, if they were to have a little fun outside the restraints of marriage. If the rumors about the nature of their relationship are true, and what with their secret affair being revealed to her, Stalyan assumes that Flynn has taken the princess's virginity. After all, he's been residing in the palace for over a year now. The likelihood of him starting a physical relationship with the princess is incredibly high; if only to get her to trust him, and to further ensure that the heist he must be secretly plotting is successful.
And if Stalyan knows Flynn, there's simply no way he could last over a year without sex.
This thought makes Stalyan's blood burn in her veins. She's not dumb enough to think she's the only woman that Flynn has ever slept with, what with the on-and-off-again nature of their drawn out relationship. She knows that he's fooled around with plenty of people who aren't her, and that fact doesn't bother Stalyan too much – if only because she's done it, too. But something about him sleeping with the princess in particular, is downright revolting.
Mostly because Stalyan just can't wrap her head around the idea that Flynn could actually be attracted to someone so incredibly different, so vastly opposite, from her. The princess is clearly so naïve, that she'd probably fall into bed with anyone, and Flynn's charms are rather convincing. Stalyan would know.
Well, he'd taken her virginity, too. So really, Stalyan's already won that race. This thought comforts the jealousy which is currently raging like a storm through the Baron's daughter, if only a little. Because she has something the princess never will: his youth.
Stalyan has Flynn's first time having sex, his first time tasting alcohol (and his first time getting drunk; same day), his first big time heist. She'd been the one at his side for almost ten years. She'd been there when things had gone just right, when their months of hard work and planning had finally come to fruition. And she'd been there when shit had hit the fan: all the times they'd almost gotten caught on a job, and the few times they actually had. Stalyan had been there for all of it – every pinch he'd found himself in, every problem he'd had to sweet talk his way out of — not a measly year of easy living in a palace. Stalyan has all the rest of him, and she doesn't plan on letting it out of her tightly-wound grasp any time soon.
And what does the princess have? His real name? Please. That shit doesn't matter, not in the grand scheme of things. When Stalyan had met Flynn, he'd been desperate to change himself, to be someone else. He'd reinvented himself back then; why does he feel the need to do it all over again? He'd yearned to distance himself from the person he'd been as a scared, little orphan. Stalyan had given him that opportunity, the opportunity to not be Eugene Fitzherbert. It doesn't make sense that he would want to be that person again, not in Stalyan's mind. Which is why he must be hiding some big, secret job from her.
Because the Flynn Rider she knows, would've dropped dead before allowing himself to go by Eugene again.
Stalyan, with the help of her well-connected father, had given him the chance to be someone, the chance to really let his thieving career take off. When she'd met him, he'd been participating in petty crimes – nothing too substantial, nothing that would get his name recognized. She'd made Flynn Rider into something; not the princess's boyfriend, not the once-courageous rescuer of the lost princess, now freeloading in the palace. But Stalyan had given him the chance to create a name for himself. A legacy, something he could actually be proud of.
Stalyan had done that for him. Not the princess. All the princess has done is allow his true identity, the person he was meant to be, to wither away. To be swallowed up by the nobility, and the fancy clothes, and the ridiculous notion that life in a palace is more exciting than life as a thief.
What really matters, Stalyan reasons, is being with the person you're supposed to be with, no matter how long it takes to find your way back to one another, no matter the obstacles which find themselves in the way – even if those obstacles have short brown hair, a massive fortune, and weigh ninety pounds soaking wet. And if Stalyan has to dress up as a maid and torment the princess for a little while to get Flynn to fall right back into her open arms, that's exactly what she's going to do.
And she's going to have some fun doing it, because why shouldn't she? After the way Flynn had left her standing at the altar, after the hell he's put her through over the years, the least Stalyan deserves is to mess around with the princess's mind a little. Really, Stalyan considers, doing so might only speed up the process of getting the princess to push Flynn away, so that he can come running right back to her.
Rounding the corner, Stalyan hears a faint giggle, followed by a soft moan. Her ears perk, her hearing acutely aware after years spent in the thieving business. She creeps forward tentatively, following the sound, leading her to a door which has been left slightly ajar.
Peering in, she sees... the princess? Yes, the princess, seated atop a big, oak desk. And standing there, situated between her legs, is... well, definitely not her husband.
It's… Flynn. Feverishly kissing his way up and down the princess's neck, as her head falls back to provide him easier access to her skin. Another quiet moan escapes the princess's mouth, her legs wrapped around Flynn's slender hips. He's dressed in a red, fitted guard uniform, though his belt has already made its way to the floor. He looks good in the uniform, really good, but that's the least of Stalyan's concerns right now.
What… the… FUCK? Aren't they supposed to be angry with one another? Hadn't they gotten into a big fight, just the other night, because of my unexpected appearance?
The princess can't be too upset anymore, what with all the moaning she's doing, what with the way her fingers are eagerly working on the buttons of his uniform. Stalyan had been so pleased with herself for eliciting that fight, too.
But now, his hands are in her hair, and her hands are roaming his body, and there's just no way they could be fighting anymore – unless their unique brand of fighting includes profusely making out.
"Shhh... you don't want to get caught now, do you?"
"Uh-uh." The princess says simply, breathlessly.
Overhearing this statement makes not only the princess, but Stalyan shiver, because he'd whispered similar things to her enough times before, statements along the lines of: 'Be quiet, so your dad won't hear us.' It's one of those statements that feels so intimate, especially coming from Flynn's mouth. It all but says: 'I don't really want to get caught like this, but the chance of getting caught makes the fooling around a lot darker, a lot sexier, and a lot more fun.'
It also makes Stalyan completely furious. Because now, he's saying dirty things to the princess, willing her to quiet down so they won't get caught – namely, by a nosy guard, or by the princess's husband himself. When, really, Flynn should be saying it to Stalyan.
The princess pulls him down, dragging him into another heated kiss, which he responds to with an unchecked passion. After what feels like an eternity of torture for Stalyan, Flynn finally pulls away to release a slow chuckle, only to return his lips to the princess's neck, murmuring against it between kisses.
"Then you should probably be a little quieter, Sunshine." He smirks down at her, sure to place a disgustingly sweet kiss to the princess's forehead, his voice gravelly and deepened with desire. "Not that I don't love hearing you moan, because I do."
Sunshine. What a stupid, stupid nickname. Flynn hadn't really had any nicknames for her. He'd always just called her Stalyan.
And sometimes, a bitch. But only when she'd really deserved it.
"But it's haaaard…" The princess whines annoyingly, laughing quietly as he leans back down to lick his way up the column of her throat.
"I know." He responds knowingly, that signature smirk of his still plastered across his face.
He's proud of himself. He likes knowing that he can get under the princess's skin. Well, I guess that's something we have in common. Who cares if the contexts are completely different?
Stalyan watches Flynn with disgust, in his visible lust, as his experienced hands rip at the ties on the front of the princess's dress, so that her sleeves are falling off her shoulders. He leans down to kiss each shoulder, running his lips up and down her bare arm. The princess reaches between them, unbuttoning his pants hastily, her gentle fingers dipping inside. Flynn's head falls back at the contact, a hand steadying himself on the surface of the desk, the other hand tugging roughly at the princess's choppy hair as she leans her head downward.
He'd been the one to cut it. He'd cut her hair. Stalyan had heard that rumor, too. Now, he's pulling at it as she... great. That's just great.
So much for winning him back. That's going to be a little harder to do if he's busy getting sucked off by the princess left and right, and not by me.
Well, this little indiscretion probably answers Stalyan's question about the whole virginity thing.
When she'd confronted Flynn about having an affair with the married princess, a small, naïve part of her had hoped that the affair was completely emotional, conducted for the purposes of getting the princess to trust him, to carry out some grand plan. Stalyan had hope that the affair hadn't crossed the point-of-no-return, in which she liked to call: 'the addictive experience of sex with Flynn Rider.'
That's an experience you never quite forget. And clearly, Flynn knows it, too. Which is why he's using all of his charms on the princess. And Stalyan can't blame him, not really. She'd used sex to keep a job on track before. But that doesn't mean she's okay with him fucking the princess, because she's not.
Glued to the scene, shaking in her anger, Stalyan watches as Flynn shivers, his posture slumping a bit as he stands before the princess. She's still perched on the desk, her bare feet dangling on either side of him, her head bobbing up and down to the gentle tempo of his guiding hand.
Hasn't this girl ever heard of shoes? Doesn't she know the power of a good black, heeled boot?
"God, yes, Rapunzel..." Flynn groans, trailing off into some incoherent thought, one of his hands disappeared in her hair, the other groping her breast, clearly itching to get the princess's corset off.
Stalyan recoils at that. He'd never... he'd never really moaned her name when they'd fooled around. It's not that he'd never showed his appreciation for her when they would have sex. But this… this seems… different, somehow. More… intimate. His mind seems completely clouded, the tone of his voice overflowing with heavy emotion – something that goes far beyond simple lust.
Almost like he's in love with her. But that's ridiculous.
Right?
Stalyan's cheeks burn, for two reasons: 1.) Because she knows she shouldn't be watching such an intimate moment and 2.) Because that intimate moment should be shared with her.
She watches the stomach-lurching scene for a while longer. After a few long moments, she can't look anymore, as she's starting to feel positively queasy. In her irritation, in the midst of all that bottled-up jealousy, Stalyan reaches forward, clasping the door handle. She slams the study door shut, before hurrying down the hall, and out of sight around the corner.
If they're going to be so stupid as to sneak around while she's married, Stalyan thinks with a deep-rooted hate in her heart, they should get a little better at sneaking.
The princess really has made Flynn go soft. Either that, or he's just lost his bravado after being away from Stalyan for so long. He'd been so good at sneaking around before – both for his job, and for sexual reasons which often benefited her. It appears as though he's lost his game. But she'll fix that for him, help him to remember how it's done. Stalyan just needs a little time to remind Flynn of what they'd had, and the way it far surpasses whatever he has with the princess.
Really, they're lucky that she'd been the one to come upon them, and not that husband of hers, Stalyan reasons pridefully. She'd done them a favor by letting them know that someone had been watching, and the way that someone could easily be the princess's husband.
She's heard that the prince is the jealous type, too.
Well, then. Game on, Princess. Game on.
Later that day, Rapunzel is humming to herself, perched on a chair in front of an easel, painting the vastness of the bright blue sky and her beautiful kingdom. She's sure to include the harbor, and the little boats tied to the docks below. As she paints, Rapunzel lovingly recalls the boat ride that she and Eugene had taken the night she'd seen the lanterns for the first time, and she can't help but smile at the memory. Though that night had ended horribly, that particular moment with Eugene will always be one of the best moments of Rapunzel's life.
The princess is situated on her bedroom balcony, the French doors flung open wide, as it's a beautiful December day. It's a little chilly, but she'd bundled herself in a warm dress and coat; she simply couldn't pass up the sunny afternoon. What with it being Christmas just yesterday, she has the rest of the week off from her lessons, and she'd like to spend her infrequent bout of free time doing something she's always enjoyed, something which brings her peace – and she could use some peace of mind lately. Painting has always been that peaceful thing, and with Eugene working this afternoon, Rapunzel really has nothing better to do. She could track down Cassandra, but the lady-in-waiting has been so busy lately, and she'd rather not bother her best friend into a bout of stressed-out irritation. Besides, as the princess, Rapunzel doesn't get time to herself very often, so she may as well enjoy it while she can. She's not sure where Charles is today, but she hopes he doesn't decide to descend upon their bedroom any time soon.
Anyway, Rapunzel had run into Eugene this morning in the hall after breakfast while he'd been on duty, and the interaction had been enough to hold their desire over until at least later that night. Unfortunately, despite the peaceful nature of her painting, Rapunzel can't help but drown in concerned thoughts, as someone had clearly been watching them this morning. She worries this person will tell Charles about her and Eugene, which would only cause a very non-peaceful situation to erupt.
"Mind if I take your dirty sheets?"
Rapunzel jumps at the voice, having been totally lost in her brushstrokes, and worries, and typical daydreaming about Eugene. She hadn't initially realized that someone had entered the bedroom, or that this someone is none other than Stalyan, standing there on her balcony in a maid's uniform – which is just about the last person Rapunzel would like to see on this otherwise peaceful day.
Or any day, really.
Rapunzel stands from her easel, looking Stalyan over in her maid uniform, as though she's fully intending to play the part with all she's got (because she is). The princess walks easily into the bedroom, and Stalyan follows.
"It depends. Are you actually here to do your job?" Rapunzel crosses her arms over her chest, pausing before the bed, trying her very best to appear threatening – though she's not sure if it's working. Stalyan appears completely unphased most of the time. "Or are you just here to win Eugene back?"
Stalyan chuckles, reaching to the bed to pull one of Charles's pillows out of its case.
"Oh, come now, Princess. You should know that a lady never reveals her true intentions."
"Well, a real lady would know the value of honesty."
"Mmm." Stalyan pauses, smiling slyly, looking Rapunzel up and down in return. "And you seem to know plenty about honesty, don't you?"
Because Eugene wasn't honest with me about her. That's what she means.
Rapunzel's eyes narrow at the condescending comment, but she doesn't say anything.
Stalyan makes her way around the bed, pulling the sheets out from under the mattress. Taking the load into her arms, she makes her way over to the growingly irritate princess. She stops just before Rapunzel, looking the princess right in the eye with a rather conniving expression.
Looking into the princess's eyes, the Baron's daughter recalls the disturbing scene she'd stumbled upon earlier that morning; the way Flynn's mouth had been all over the princess, her bare skin in his hands, the way he'd been moaning for her. She recalls the way the princess had her mouth wrapped around a particularly… delicate region of Flynn's body. Now, the scene burned deep into her memory, Stalyan can't see anything else when she looks at the princess, though she wishes she could.
And Stalyan absolutely despises the princess for it, the bitter jealousy filling her completely as she studies the young woman standing before her. This young woman who looks so good, so innocent and pure – though it's clearly all a façade, Stalyan had come to learn this morning.
At least Stalyan doesn't try to hide who she really is, the things she's capable of.
"He's really good in bed, huh? You know, Princess… I'd be careful, if I were you. I'm sure you're new to the whole thing, but he can get a little… rough, sometimes. I remember, he used to leave marks alllllll over me when we would fu..." Stalyan smiles coyly, trailing off with a nonchalant wave of her hand. "Ah, what am I going on for? I'm sure you know exactly what I mean."
Rapunzel feels her cheeks burning, a deep blush crawling its way up her neck, giving her away. Because, no, she doesn't know what Stalyan means. Eugene has never left… marks all over her before. When they make love, he's always so loving, so gentle with her.
Is it because sex with her... isn't as enjoyable as it had once been with Stalyan? Is sex with her... boring for him?
The princess realizes that she has no actual frame of reference, no idea what sex is really supposed to be like – aside from the information that Eugene has chosen to share with her – and that information could easily be cherry-picked. Yes, she's read books about anatomy and reproduction from the library, but nothing that really explains the intricate experience of sex for pleasure.
Her mother has only hinted at things before, what she could've expected from her wedding night, but that hadn't happened. And any time Rapunzel had ever brought the subject up, long before the marriage, her mother would turn a deep shade of pink, would appear rather flustered, and would simply say: 'We'll talk about it when you're a little older.' She wouldn't even dream of broaching the subject with her dad, assuming that it would probably end in Eugene having a harsh talking to. From what Rapunzel has gathered, though sex is amazing, it's not something they should particularly be doing. Her parents and etiquette instructors had made that clear with her and Eugene plenty of times before.
Rapunzel realizes that she's completely, blindly trusting a singular source to give her the correct information: Eugene.
Suddenly, Rapunzel feels quite small, and silly, and even a little stupid. She looks down to her wringed hands, catching a glimpse of the ring Eugene had given her only last night. What if Eugene is holding back, so as not to scare her, or because he doesn't think she can handle the truth of what sex is meant to be like? What if he thinks she's too young to know the truth, as her mother had suggested before? If he thought she was too young, he wouldn't be doing it with her, would he? Of course not. But what if she's not giving him what he really wants, because she doesn't know how sex should really be?
Stalyan definitely looks beautiful in that maid uniform – not to mention, completely smug about her comment – like she'd once been very capable of giving Eugene everything he ever could've wanted. She has much longer hair than Rapunzel, hair that's probably easier to grab onto, significantly larger breasts, and a consistently sultry look in her eyes. In her time living outside of the tower, Rapunzel has gathered that men seem to like these kinds of things. Stalyan simply looks more... womanly than her, in every possible way. Definitely curvier, fuller, yet still slim. Surely older by two or three years, if not a few more. She looks… experienced.
And Rapunzel has learned that just a few years of experience in the world, can make a big difference, especially where relationships with others are concerned. She's learned so much in only a little over a year of being outside her tower. Which means that Stalyan probably knows a lot, especially about pleasing men.
About pleasing Eugene, in particular. This thought makes Rapunzel want to hurl, because she's still learning his body, and Stalyan probably already knows it like the back of her hand.
Is that how Eugene wishes I looked? Is that how he wishes I was – sultry, and sexy, and mysterious? That's not who I am! Does he wish I was more forthcoming with my thoughts about sex, like Stalyan? Does he wish I was more knowledgeable about such things? But that's not my fault, right? I grew up in a tower, with a woman who lied to me about just about everything. I had no idea about sex until I came to the palace! But… what if it bothers him that he has to teach me everything? What if it bothers him that I didn't know what to do when we made love for the first time? But I've been learning, haven't I? I'm a good learner, right, a fast learner? Eugene says so. But what if he doesn't really mean it? What if –
"Oh, I'm sorry, Princess." Stalyan provides a look of mock sympathy, gauging the worried expression on the princess's face, watching with pride as the gears turn rapidly in her mind. "I've probably said too much. I didn't mean to scare you."
Rapunzel scoffs, trying her best to hide her true feelings. Because, yes, Stalyan did scare her, and now she's questioning everything again. But she doesn't want to give Stalyan the satisfaction of knowing that.
"You didn't scare me. But I was a little busy before you came into my room unannounced, so do you think you could leave now?" Rapunzel motions to the pile of dirty sheets in Stalyan's arms, signaling that she should do her job and go.
You're the princess. You still need to be polite, just like mom and dad taught you. Even if you can't stand her. Even if it kills you. What does mom always say? 'Kill them with kindness?'
"Please?"
Stalyan only smirks, knowing that she's successfully gotten under the princess's skin, burrowing deep in her mind, causing her to feel unsure of herself and her relationship with Flynn.
Phase one of my plan is going just the way I'd hoped.
"As you wish...Your Highness."
Later that night, well past midnight, Rapunzel has snuck away from her bedroom, leaving a snoring Charles to his dreams.
She feels a little guilty for doing it, but not enough to stop. The prince can't miss her if he doesn't realize that she's gone, Rapunzel reasons. The young, daring princess knows that she's playing with fire, that there's a great possibility of Charles waking up, realizing she's missing from their bed, and going out to search the palace for her. One of the first places he'd probably check would be Eugene's room, though Rapunzel has tried to convince Charles that she simply often falls asleep in the library. He probably doesn't believe her, but what's a girl to do?
Being away from Eugene every day is so unbearable, that Rapunzel knows she has to take the risk in the middle of the night, if she wants to spend any time with him at all. And if she wants to keep hold of the last shred of happiness she has left. That shred is easily maintained when she's with Eugene, snuggled in his bed, enjoying the warmth of the roaring fire in the fireplace, and his skin against hers.
Besides, the princess couldn't stay away from Eugene if she tried.
They've both been so busy lately, so caught up in other things, like work as a guard and the demanding duties that come with being a princess. So, if they have to lose some sleep, and risk getting caught just to spend some fleetingly intoxicating moments together, that's just fine with the both of them.
Now, they're busy trying to get the other's clothes off.
"I thought you would've been satisfied enough after our little encounter this morning." Rapunzel teases between heated kisses, fumbling with the buckles on his vest.
"I'm never satisfied when it comes to you, Blondie. You should know that by now." Eugene chuckles, though he means it.
Untying the little bows on her corset, Eugene tosses it to the floor with a heavy, satisfying CLUNK, where it joins her dress, which has already been laying there on the hardwood for a while. Her thin slip follows, and she's finally naked, at least on her top half. She sighs, thankful to be free from the restricting corset. His hands immediately return to her soft skin, relieved there's no longer all the layers on her body, layers that he needs to ruffle and swim through just to get to her. Eugene leans down to kiss her breast, his lips like a ghost across her newly bare skin.
His facial hair brushes against her gently, creating goosebumps which run up and down her arms. She can't help but shiver a little, because she'll never fully get used to him, and how good he makes her feel. Rapunzel releases a breathless moan, grinding her hips instinctively against his. The sound and feel of her against him leaves Eugene feeling hot all over, so he rewards her by flicking a tongue against her nipple, engulfing it gently, only once. She cries out, and he moves to the next breast, doing the same.
Eugene considers reminding his princess that they should probably still be quiet. But he's already told her that once today, and after a long day at work, he really just wants to relish in her desire being released at his hand, without putting boundaries up around her. Besides, Rapunzel has had people putting boundaries around her for her entire life. Why should he be the one to do it, too?
Despite how mind-numbingly good it feels to have his mouth upon her bare skin, and despite the thick fog she must wade through to form a relatively put-together sentence, the princess can't help but state her concern aloud, sharing what's been prodding at her mind all day.
"I just… I'm just a little worried. I think someone saw us this morning," She moans once more as he continues to tease her nipples with his tongue, dipping her head pathetically against his shoulder, because she can't help it – because the sensation is a little too much for her to handle gracefully, in the best possible way. "When… when the door… oh, God, Eugene, that feels so good…"
He pauses from kissing her body, if only for a moment long enough to smile in the dim firelight, proud of himself for snatching any coherent thought right from her mouth.
"You were saying, Princess?"
Then, he continues on, fondling her breasts gently.
"I was… I'm just saying…" Rapunzel struggles to speak, her words gone completely strangled. "I'm just a little worried about how the door… s-slammed shut this morning in the study, when we were… I mean, what if someone tells –"
Eugene pulls back suddenly, a sympathetic look on his face.
"Well, if someone was standing there, there's nothing we can do about it now, is there? We don't know who it was, and it's not like we can exactly go around asking. We just have to hope, whoever it was, that they won't say anything."
"I guess you're right." Rapunzel sighs, though her worries aren't completely relieved.
Eugene takes either side of her face in his hands, a sure smile on his lips.
"Then why are you worrying about it right now, when we could be doing much more fun things?"
"Well, maybe I just need a good enough distraction from my worries." She retorts back, an easy smile growing on her own face, quickly forgetting her concerns in favor of remembering what it feels like to moan in his hands.
"Oh, say no more, Blondie. My middle name is distraction."
Rapunzel only giggles and pulls him down for another kiss, a kiss that quickly grows even more heated than before. Eugene's adept fingers find their way to her thighs, teasing his way up them. She whimpers a little, wordlessly explaining what she wants from him, causing him to smirk against her neck. But he wants to hear it.
"What would you like, Princess?"
"You. Between my legs. Making me feel good." She breathes out, and Eugene is thankful that she's finding her confidence with him, enough so as to be honest about what she wants.
"Don't I always make you feel good?"
Pulling her underwear down her legs, which she eagerly kicks off, he seamlessly slips a finger inside of her, watching smugly as her head falls back in pure bliss.
"Y-yes…"
"I think I can make something work, then." Eugene grins cheekily, before his eyes grow dark once more. He guides her head back down to his level, making her look him in the eye. "What else?"
Taking a deep breath of courage, Rapunzel decides to be honest about all of the concerned thoughts she's been having today.
"I want you to be rough with me tonight. I want you to leave marks all over me." She demands, panting between words, breathless as he leans down to lick and nip at her neck, though he's always been purposefully careful, extremely careful – sure not to leave so much as a well-hidden hickey on her.
Eugene pulls back again, blinking at his sweet princess, surprised by her forwardness.
Did she just –
"What? You know I can't, someone will see them —"
"No, not where anyone can see them, silly. Please, Eugene, I just need —" Rapunzel fumbles with the buttons on his shirt hastily, desperate to feel his skin against hers.
I need to feel whatever Stalyan felt with you, whatever she was talking about earlier.
Eugene pulls a little further away, so that he can take in her entire face. Confused, he wonders where she'd learned about rough sex, because it definitely wasn't from him. As far as Rapunzel knows, at least from the information he'd provided to her, sex is meant to be nothing more than a gentle, soft experience – with the occasional headboard hitting the wall when things get a little out of hand. He'd never brought up the possibility of being anything but gentle with her in their loving making.
Because that's how he'd wanted it to be for her: gentle, and loving, and soft, because that's what a princess – well, a princess as sweet as his – deserves. Eugene knows that she doesn't deserve to be treated like a whore getting fucked quick and dirty above a bar, mostly because he genuinely loves her. Eugene had planned on slowly working them up to the more intense side of things, maybe – and that was a big maybe.
But he (wrongly, clearly) had assumed that she wouldn't be ready for that step in their sex life. After all, she'd only lost her virginity a little over a month ago now. And Eugene doesn't want to move them too fast, or make her feel like he'd ever cross a boundary before she's ready for it to be crossed, doing something she doesn't want without her consent. If she does want things to get dirtier between them, that would be just fine by him, but he'd assumed they would at least talk about it first, ever so slowly testing the waters of what she's comfortable with, just like they'd done for a year prior. Eugene hadn't expected the conversation to come about so suddenly, smack in the middle of fooling around.
"Rapunzel... where is this coming from?" Eugene looks at her pointedly, his voice gone stern, taking her hands into his, away from the buttons on his shirt. Though Rapunzel is good about being honest with him, she's also good at protecting the feelings of other people. Usually, that's a quality about her that he admires, but right now… "And don't lie."
"Well..." Rapunzel sighs deeply, averting her eyes, suddenly unable to look at him. Eugene notices this, and has a bad feeling that he's not going to like where this conversation is about to go. "Stalyan might've said —"
"Stalyan? When on earth did you talk to Stalyan?" He takes hold of Rapunzel's jaw, turning her face so that she has no choice but to look him in the eye. "What did she say to you? And whatever it was, please tell me that you took it with a grain of salt?" Eugene demands, unable to keep the concerned, irritated look off his face.
The princess sighs deeply, a slight irritation crossing her own face.
"She was in my bedroom earlier today, collecting the bedding to be washed. I think she was just trying to upset me, but she said..." Rapunzel looks away again, suddenly feeling incredibly silly for bringing it up at all. "She said that you used to leave marks all over her when... when you would make love to her." She finishes timidly, looking back to Eugene, visibly nervous to receive his response.
He doesn't seem angry, at least not at Rapunzel, much to her relief. But he does groan, loudly, letting his face fall into his hands.
This can't be happening to me. Not only is the love of my life married to another man, but Stalyan is here, holding blackmail over my head so that I can't make her leave. And not only that, but she's filling Rapunzel's brain with garage about my past sex life now, too?
"Oh, you've got to be fucking kidding me. I'm gonna find her, and I'm gonna —"
"Hey, its okay, Eugene. Really." Rapunzel rushes to change the subject, clearly embarrassed, her cheeks gone a bright pink color, though she shouldn't be the one feeling that way. "Let's just forget I even said anything at all. We can go back to what we were doing, and –"
She moves to guide Eugene's face back to hers, intending to pick up where they'd left off only a few minutes before. But he gently pulls away, snatching her hands back into his when she pouts at the rejection.
"No, Blondie, I think it would be a good idea if we talked about this. I've actually wanted to have this conversation with you." He squeezes her hands in his lap, cringing slightly. "I just… I'm a little upset that it's happening because of Stalyan."
"Well… it's not just because of her." Rapunzel admits, leaning in to rub his chest lovingly, as though she's not the one that should be getting comforted right now. "I've actually been wondering about it for a long time now, but was too afraid to ask. I've seen little bruises on some of the other maids before, on their necks and sometimes around their wrists, too, like..." The princess scrunches her nose cutely, searching for the appropriate words. "Like fingerprints. But when I ask what they're from... everyone just giggles at me, like they know something I don't."
God, in some ways, Eugene thinks to himself, she's still so innocent.
He likes that about her. But sometimes, like right now, it makes him feel a little sad for her, to know she'd been so sheltered for most of her life. He hates the way that her face falls as she states her confusion aloud, and Eugene isn't sure whether it's a chuckle that he's holding back, bubbling from deep within his throat, or the tears of second-hand-embarrassment. She's always been so smart, such a naturally clever girl, much smarter than him. So smart, in fact, that he often forgets: there's a lot about the world that Rapunzel still doesn't know. A lot of things that she probably shouldn't know, what with all of the stuffy, royal rules that she's expected to follow. Whether she actually follows these rules or not (she usually doesn't), she still looks to him for guidance, and Eugene realizes that he's failed her on this one.
Sometimes, Eugene forgets that he's really the only frame of reference she has – at least, in the world of sex and romantic relationships. She doesn't know anything other than him, and the information that she trusts him to provide. Eugene would like to keep it that way, which means he needs to take this conversation very seriously. Although they aren't on a quest to see the lanterns anymore, he's very much so still Rapunzel's guide in all of this, and she's trusting him not to totally screw it up for her.
He has to guide her through everything, really. It's always been that way, since they first arrived at the palace. Every kiss, every escalated make out session, and everything in between. It's not like she wasn't often the one to initiate their physical intimacy. After all, she'd pulled them into their first kiss, in the tower. But he was often the one who held the reigns, the one to bring them through to the other side, and they were both okay with that. Not because she isn't capable of learning things on her own, because she is. But because they both loved the fact that he was her teacher, relished in it. It's a large part of what had made their relationship so tightknit – in their first year in the palace, she'd had to learn how to trust him completely, and she did. Having to spend a little extra time and energy to guide her through such things, really isn't something that has ever bothered Eugene. This duty of being her teacher, both in day-to-day life and in the bedroom, is a role that he's rather proud to have.
Especially when it comes to this kind of thing.
Whatever it is that he's feeling, whether it be slight amusement or unadmittable pity for her, Eugene swallows it down, nodding supportively as Rapunzel explains her confusion. It's not her fault that she doesn't know any of this, and he would never want to make her feel like it is. It's that old witch's fault, for keeping the princess locked away for so long. Eugene silently thanks himself for chopping Rapunzel's hair, so that the bitch is dead, and can't hide everything about the outside world from her anymore.
But aren't you kind of doing the same thing, keeping her in the dark about these things? Well... yeah, but that's only to protect her… oh, shit –
"It's always made me think that those bruises are something that I should want. But Cass just tells me not to let you hurt me like that, because it's naughty."
Oh, Cassandra, always the perpetual cockblocker. Eugene can't help but smile a little at that. At least she's a good friend, always looking out for our princess. Even if it usually makes my life harder.
"And I just thought... well, when Stalyan said it... she made it seem like such a great thing, like it's something I'm supposed to be jealous of. Like those bruises I've seen on some of the maids, are meant to feel good. Then, I got to thinking about how you've never left marks on me like that before. And I thought that maybe it's just because you must be bored when we —"
"Oh, God, sweetheart, no. No, no, no. Listen to me, okay?" Eugene takes Rapunzel by the face, and the wide, concerned look in her eyes causes his heart to ache a little.
How can I explain this to her, as delicately as possible?
"With Stalyan, that wasn't... that wasn't making love. Not even close. That was... that was just mindless sex, okay? It didn't mean to me with her what it means with you, which means you have no reason to be jealous, about anything she says to you. I was reckless then, I didn't care about hurting her. I do care about hurting you, especially because sex is a pretty new thing for you, and it should be taken slowly. Not to mention, you're kind of the princess." He reaches over to tickle her side, and she ducks away, giggling. "And leaving hickeys and marks all over the princess, is a really good way to showcase our bad behavior to everyone who catches sight of you. Not to mention, it's a good way to get me kicked out of this place." Eugene sighs, suddenly feeling a bit guilty for not explaining everything to her a long time ago, like he should have. "That's why I've never given you any… marks before. Because it's not... it's not 'socially acceptable' or whatever, that we're fooling around outside of marriage. That's the only reason why. Not because sex was better with her. Because trust me, Blondie, it wasn't. You're the best I've ever had, you got that?"
"Oh. Okay. I think I understand." Rapunzel says simply, and he can see the gears working in her head, turning rapidly to understand.
"And if you truly want to try new things in bed, I'm more than happy to oblige, Princess. You can ask me for anything, okay? Never be embarrassed. Alright?"
She nods, hanging on to his every word, thankful that Eugene always wants her to feel safe with him. Though Rapunzel doesn't appreciate Stalyan's comments, the way she'd talked so intimately about Eugene and their past together, and the way it made her feel so incompetent, Rapunzel can't help being memorized whenever he teaches her about such naughty things. It always feel so exciting, like he's letting her in on a little secret, one only meant for the two of them to know.
"But I don't want you asking for something from me, just because Stalyan said I used to do it with her. The things I did with her... they don't even compare to the things I do and feel when I'm with you. I was a lost... lost man when I was with her. Okay?" Eugene cringes again, part of him wishing they didn't have to have this conversation at all. "I hate that she's here. I'm so sorry she said that to you, or that she made you think I could ever be bored with you." He chuckles a little, because the notion is so ridiculous, and because he's hoping to lighten her worried expression. "That's quite literally impossible."
Her concerns relieved, if only a little, Rapunzel crosses her arms with a huff, her expression shifting from jealousy to frustration.
"Why can't we just get her fired somehow? I am the princess, after all —"
Eugene sighs, rubbing a hand across his tired face.
"As much as I would love that, we can't do much about her being here."
"Why not? There has to be something we can do."
"Because she knows, Rapunzel. She knows about you and me. She knows what we're doing behind Charles's back, behind everyone's back. She backed me into a corner, the night she showed up here, and all but got a confession out of me. And I know Stalyan. Stalyan doesn't mess around. If she says she'll sell you out, she will, and she'll do it completely guilt free."
Rapunzel nods slowly, the gears in her mind continuing to rotate.
"So, what you're saying is... we're stuck with her here for as long as she wants to stay, unless we want everyone to find out about us?"
"Pretty much, yeah."
Rapunzel rolls her eyes, falling against Eugene's chest with a deep sigh of her own.
"I really don't like that woman, Eugene."
Eugene, despite feeling guilty about it for a little while, had always known there was a very good reason he'd ditched Stalyan at the altar – or rather, a long list of reasons, and this is one of them. When he considers the way his life could've been with the Baron's daughter, he can't help but shudder.
He'd also known there was a very good reason he'd been so relieved to fall in love with someone like Rapunzel, who is so starkly different from Stalyan. Mostly because Rapunzel isn't a blackmailing, manipulative woman, who yanks you around like a puppet on a string until she gets what she wants from you.
Well, except for that one time with the lanterns and my satchel. But that worked out for the best, and she hasn't blackmailed me since.
"Join the club, Blondie." Eugene mutters, running a hand through her short hair. "Join the club."
AN: I hope you enjoyed the chapter! This was a fun one to write. I really wanted to set the tone for how Stalyan is going to treat and feel about Rapunzel, and how her presence is going to affect New Dream. She really doesn't understand how Eugene could love someone so different from her, so she's convinced herself that he's staying in the palace, only pretending to love Rapunzel, all because he's plotting some grand scheme to steal something from the royal family. Boy, is she going to be in for a rude awakening when she realizes that Eugene truly loves the princess.
I hope to see you in Chapter 14. As always, thank you so much for reading! I appreciate you being here more than you know.