Chapter One

What do you get when you cross a guy who's seen it all with a girl who's seen… pretty much nothing?

Hold onto your hats and hide your satchels, you're about to find out!

…

Okay, not one of my best openers, but it's also not exactly one of my thrilling, death-defying escapades full of heart-pounding action and sword fights and mobs wishing they could skewer the infamous Flynn Rider! This is actually a bit of a… detour, before I ambled back to good ol' Corona for my most ambitious score in years: the Lost Princess's tiara.

As it turns out, I've met two princesses before they became royalty—or realized they were royalty, in one particular case. That makes me famous by association, ladies and gentlemen.

Who were these lovely ladies you ask? You already know the Lost Princess herself, Mrs. Rapunzel, Her Royal Highness of Corona—otherwise dubbed as Blondie, Goldie, and Sunshine by Yours Truly. The perkiest, most infectiously optimistic person you could ever hope to meet with the biggest heart in the world and one heck of a downswing. (You do not want to be on the other end of her frying pan, trust me.)

I also like to call her the love of my life, but, hey, I'm a little biased. I had to propose several times before she finally said "yes!" I'm not taking that for granted!

So who is this mystery woman, this other princess-to-be? Well, I'd be happy to tell you—

Ooh, nope, wait, I have an exposition planned. I can't believe I almost forgot! Suspense, people, it's a very important storytelling technique. Feel free to take notes.

Let me start again:

So who, may you ask, is this soon-to-be-snatched-up-by-a-nearby-prince mademoiselle? Well, I'd be delighted to show you…

After our spectacular carriage-wreck of a heist—where Lance got arrested for cockiness and I couldn't save him without becoming his jail cell roomie—I felt it was in my best interest to take a vacation in any other kingdom besides Corona.

I had to admit, it was hard being a thief without a partner-in-crime! When they say two buddies are "as thick as thieves," that was based on real life! In fact, I'm pretty sure that phrase was coined because of Lance and me.

See? My contributions are vast and varied!

Anyway, I went about trying to manage my way of life by myself, which, as much as I hate to admit—like, really hate to—it led to more failures than successes. That was when I started to dip my toes into the thieves' guilds that were dotted around the continent, typically underground in old—and rather rank—abandoned tunnels, caves, sewers, and anywhere else most civilized folks would never dare to tread. It took a bit longer than expected to prove how I am not a snitch, or a rat or a weasel—whatever rodent metaphor that area preferred—but once I did, I was able to make arrangements with fellow thieves, like the ideal scores around, what our plans of action were, who did what job, and how the profits would be split. I tried to stick to just one partner: the less people, the less of a need to divide the winnings.

For a bunch of pickpockets and cutthroats, they are sticklers about equality… Would you be surprised that I got cheatedby them?

So eventually, I gave up on the whole team player thing. I mean, what was the point of loaning out my unique brand of savvy and expertise to a bunch of second-rate crooks when I barely had anything to show for it? But being a lone wolf was easier said than done. I was so used to having a partner by my side that I could trust with my life. That was the only way I knew how to do this lifestyle. As it so happened, it was actually a painful adjustment to always be watching my back, because the hard reality was… no one was gonna watch my back anymore. I had to learn to play dirty. Anyone who I thought wasn't gonna follow through with our arrangement, I took the score for myself. Whenever that happened, I moved on to another country.

After a year of "thieving, betraying, repeat," I was exhausted. There had to be easier scores! No to little security but loaded with treasure, much preferred. Abandoned castles, maybe?

The thought was ridiculous. Who abandoned a castle? Sure, they could be drafty, but it's still a castle!

Turns out, there's a whole valley in France just full of castles! They call them "châteaux."

No, not like "chat-tay-uhx," like "sha-TOE." The only reason I know that is because I had to ask for directions.

So these châteaux are huge, elaborate, and full of goodies. For a couple of them, I was able to pull myself off as an architect or interior decorator looking for inspiration. (One thing that doesn't change from country-to-country is lords and ladies love getting their egos stroked.) While I was getting the VIP tour and pretending to take notes—in-between gushing about the tapestries, the rugs, the flying buttresses, yadda-yadda—I snatched some knick-knacks I was pretty sure they wouldn't miss and snuck them into my trusty satchel. I would then pawn them at villages several miles away to keep my trail cold.

And then I hit the motherlode. A few villages down my path of thieving, I heard talk of a haunted castle in a wolf-infested forest where not only howls broke the night, but roars of a ravenous monster with a special appetite for children. An "abandoned offspring of the devil," the townspeople called it. Boy, have I had my share of those.

At first, I laughed. I was ninety-percent certain that said monster was a local superstition that had gotten bigger and bigger as the generations passed. I stepped up to the old storyteller and asked for directions then and there, which got some gasps and looks of horror from his enraptured audience.

"Are you mad?" the storyteller balked. "That beast will tear you apart, limb-from-limb."

"I'm pretty good at keeping my limbs attached, but I appreciate the concern."

"Do you plan to kill it?"

Hmm… my good business sense was tingling.

I gave the bourgeois gentleman a confident pose, a one-sided smirk abroad. "Perhaps I do."

Whispers occurred among the enraptured crowd, and I took that moment to add, "But only if it's worth my while."

The storyteller scoffed. "You'll only be serving it an easy dinner."

I shrugged. "If I don't make it back, then you won't have to pay me. But if I bring evidence that it is dead… will I be fairly compensated?"

The gentleman stroked his goatee as the crowd murmured their growing consent. As it became more pronounced, the man waved his hands. "Fine, fine… You have yourself a deal."

With a salute, I replied, "It will be a pleasure doing business with you," and the crowd parted for me as I headed to my campsite outside of town to prepare for the perfect score. It was an actual abandoned castle. I wasn't going to pass this one up!

Astride my easy-going French mare, whom I called Frances for obvious reasons, I took off with supplies, strong convictions, and a dependably generous sense of self into a supposedly haunted forest. I get some valuables and fabricate the existence of a scary enough beast to present to a group of sheltered saps for a substantial bonus. What could possibly go wrong?

Based on what I'd heard from the old bat in the village, following the path less traveled, or just more ominous, led me right to the castle. Did I hear wolf howls on the way? Sure did! But I know how to camp to protect myself from wild, hungry animals. There's a reason I've lasted this long!

I either didn't interest them or they had also heard the tale of the infamous Flynn Rider. Who's to say which was the real reason? All I could think about was the fortune I'd find once I broke into the place. Maybe it'd be enough to buy a castle of my own, or a fashionable hideout... Hey, let a guy dream!

I'd only had to camp for one night before I found the stone walls surrounding the grounds of this crazy feat of architecture. I thought Corona's castle was a marvel, but this French castle miles away from decent civilization gave it a run for its money. I couldn't help but think it was a waste of real estate! Why build something this big and beautiful out in the middle of nowhere?

I had to shake my head. Location, location. No wonder it was abandoned.

The gate, however, was locked tight, probably from rust, and scaling the moss-covered stone walls four times my height was definitely not in my best interest. I might be agile, but if I can't see me finding a good grip again if I slip, I don't take the chance. So the only other option was seeing if there was a crack in the fortress.

As we walked the perimeter, it got into some brambly territory. Overgrown bushes and trees were everywhere. At some point, I had to dismount Frances and guide her through, which took us away from the wall. I always made sure it was in my sight though, since that was the entire point of us struggling through underbrush like this.

The sun was scraping the tops of trees by the time we found a chunk of the wall that was caved in. There was a clearing nearby where I set up camp. Since this was my first abandoned castle venture, I wanted to be absolutely sure this castle was, without a doubt, abandoned. I was going to watch for any activity to happen for the next two days, and if nothing moved… jackpot.

Camping out alone for two days doesn't go by fast. In fact, you end up having one-sided conversations with your horse. Not to say Frances couldn't have contributed if she'd really felt inclined, but at the time, she was quite content to watch me ramble incoherently for hours at a time. At least the weather was clear and balmy. Thank goodness it was summer.

Either way, nothing moved. Not a sound, not a stir.

Forty-eight hours later, I made my way in.

On the other side of the wall was an expansive set of grounds I could tell were once breathtaking. French gardens always seemed to be so organized and symmetrical. They didn't wind aimlessly. "In order, came beauty" seemed to be their belief.

Any tender love and care that once kept this place together was long gone. Flowers still lived, but in overgrown beds. Hedges bled onto the leveled pathways. My boots were crushing a lot of twigs and brush on the way. Multiple stone fountains were strategically placed throughout the gardens, and they were as dry and cracked as old bones. I couldn't help but feel something had been lost, like some… tragedy had happened. It was utterly depressing. Prior to getting there, the thought had crossed my mind to set up a living situation here, but after seeing the upkeep needed? No, thank you.

Call me paranoid, but even if I'm sneaking into somewhere deserted, going through the front door seemed cocky, even for me. There were entrances through the stables, too, but… I don't know about wandering through the halls. If I wanted to get to the good stuff, the good stuff would be where the royals had slept. I wanted to get to a room with a balcony.

What can I say? I like a shortcut.

Creeping vines had overtaken most of the castle walls, which was a welcome sight! I love not having to use a grappling hook. Those things clang, and you have to throw it just right to have it latch and even then, it was a toss-up.

I see balcony, I climb vine. Simple as that! And honestly, that was meant to be the hardest part. Once I hopped the balustrade and opened the doors leading inside, I saw I had ended up in a room with the royal treatment. A canopy bed with sheets tucked and made, a hefty wardrobe, a vanity, chaises for a sitting area, all perfectly preserved by a thick layer of dust. If that and the cobwebs had been gone, this room would have looked lived in.

My eyes landed on the vanity, where what looked to be jewelry boxes sat. I wasted no time in investigating, and I just so happened to be right. I love when I'm right!

Based on the jewelry, this looked to be a queen's or princess's wing. There were necklaces, bracelets, earrings, and brooches made of pearls, amethysts, emeralds, rubies, topaz, and gold. I brought a magnet out to test the metal to be on the safe side, but everything in this stash was real, even if the style was definitely decades-old. Geez, it looked like something grandmothers would wear.

But who cared! I was thrilled. I opened the drawer to see if there was maybe a crown or two somewhere.

Then I heard the creaking of wood.

I turned at the sound. I know it came from behind me, maybe in the direction of the wardrobe, but I couldn't be sure. The furniture could have been adjusting. Like I said, castles were drafty.

The drawers held no crowns, which didn't thrill me, but I wasn't going to snub what I'd found. I started loading up my satchel with the goods. Oh man, I'd be set for years!

"Oh, sweet, sweet deserted island, here I come!" I said.

Noises came from the hall, a scuffling this time, like metal on stone.

I froze. A light had appeared under the door that definitely hadn't been there before. Were there really caretakers here? They must not be getting paid very well considering, but no! This wasn't fair!

I stared at the priceless antique jewels in my hands and stifled a snarl. I had to be discreet about what I took in case they came to check. I'd have to be content with what I had and scramble.

Ever so carefully closing the rifled-through jewelry boxes, I swiftly and silently went back down the way I came. I only hoped they didn't look out the window, because if they did… I was a sitting duck. Maybe that was why the French made their gardens that way: there was nowhere to hide.

So I did what any sensible thief would do in that circumstance: Ran for my life. Granted, it wasn't the first time that's happened, but I didn't even know who or what I was running from.

I got to the wall and vaulted through its crack, but as I did, a distinctly un-wolflike roar penetrated the air. That kind of roar… was something I had never heard before. It not only made my eardrums ring, it shook my entire skeleton. What I felt in that moment was genuine fear. "Haunted," they said? "Cursed"? It turns out they were right.

I hate when I'm not right.

Frances was on the verge of getting spooked enough to leave me stranded, but I caught her reins in time. What supplies I had laying around, I left. I couldn't chance it, not with… whatever that was residing in a place I'd just cat-burgled, sounding very unhappy.

I leapt onto Frances and headed just away, whatever direction that really was. I could only pray I would land on a path.

The masses of trees and brush slowed down our escape, and that made me anxious. The sky was darkening with only glints of dark orange from the sunset remaining. I had to get out of this forest if it was the last thing I did. My brain was on the fritz from the unexpected hitch in my plans. Normally, I'm pretty good at improvising, but a monster actually living in a castle you robbed can throw you off your game, let me tell you.

I had gone south to get here. When I found a path, I had to head north… if I found a path.

No, no, I am a realist, not a defeatist! That wasn't the Flynn Rider way! Stay focused, Rider!

As we rode on, the dense mass of trees thinned and hallelujah, lo and behold a path! A whoop escaped me as I turned Frances north and kicked her sides. She sped right up, and I would bet she was as excited to get out of this forest as I was.

Another roar echoed, shaking crows from their perches above us, but it sounded distant. Was it even following us?

Frances's hooves pounded on the dirt in a rhythm that matched the pounding of my heart with only the glow of a half moon lighting our way. I glanced behind just to reassure myself that we weren't being hunted, not even by wolves. When you had a big bad making its presence known, I didn't exactly blame them for wanting to stay in their dark, cozy dens.

After what felt like ages keeping my nose to Frances's mane and ears tuned to anything that could eat me, we reached a friendlier road—one that had signs! The nearest village, some "M" name I couldn't pronounce at the time, was only a couple miles out. We headed in that direction at a walk, finally able to take some healthy deep breaths.

The moon had set by the time we left the trees. I could tell a village was down the river, but the lights were all out. I wasn't about to call attention to myself by being that chump who woke up the neighborhood.

Just across the bridge and past some fields, I could see a lone cottage planted at the edge of town. That looked promising.

Upon my approach, I saw stables and an active farm, with all the animals snoring in their pens. Another night sleeping on a haypile… yay.

I dismounted Frances, opened the oiled gate, and got her settled in an empty stall with some hay and water. With my stuffed satchel as a pillow, I made sure my set of hay was particularly fluffy. After a tense ride back, it didn't seem too bad. My eyes were already getting heavy.

I started to drift into a decent slumber, but my mind wandered back to the so-called haunted castle. Monster, huh? When I thought on it more, it could have been just a really big, old bear. If everyone in the area believed it to be haunted, then it would have made a nice little bear nest. No one would be bothering it, and think of all the protein from the local canine cuisine. I was becoming surer by the second that was why the wolves hadn't come out to chase me either. I've woken a bear from its nap before and they are cranky.

Yeah. That was definitely it. Logic and reason restored!

When dawn broke, I was going to take Frances and book it before whoever lived here even knew I was there. That was the plan.

But when does anything I want ever go as planned?

A/N:Hi everyone! This was an idea I've been percolating on for a while inspired by work done with my co-conspirator, LovelyLadyAllie, and I had to come up with an excuse for Eugene to end up running into Belle prior to their mutual canonical stories. To do so, I've decided to dive into Eugene's jaded, cynical, and endlessly entertaining head, where he tells this tale after he's happily settled with Rapunzel. If you liked how I've written him here, I hope you stick along for the ride! Thanks for reading!

And thank you to the lovely ladies from The Enchanted Rose Discord server for the wonderful beta-ing!