After that day, Hans and I were inseparable. We spent every possible second together, laughing and joking, stealing tiny intervals during parties and balls, exploring the castle and the grounds.

Before, I never knew how big or layered my home was. I suppose it should have been obvious, seeing as it rose above the island of Corona City, but the full extent finally hit me. Gothel rarely let me venture beyond the usual corridors, which consisted of: my bedroom, the dining room, the ballroom, the endless series of drawing rooms and parlours, the conservatory to practice music, the tutors' classrooms, and the tearoom. It sounds like a lot, but imagine spending eighteen years of your life in only those rooms! I did frequently visit the gardens, but only under her close supervision- once a week, if she was feeling generous- and the rare journeys beyond the palace gates were confined to a closed carriage.

With Hans, I discovered an odd, straight crack in the wall outside my bedroom that, when probed, revealed a secret passage between the walls. The passage was a short whitewashed hallway leading to a wooden spiral stairwell, winding down into the chilly darkness.

"Let's investigate, shall we?" Hans suggested, her voice suave and rich. His lush eyes sparkled in curiosity.

"It goes down too far," I said in a feebler, softer tone. "What if we get lost?"

"Then we vanish together."

"I don't think my governess would approve." I recalled my promise. I never broke my vows; my word was my life, and if I couldn't keep my oaths, I did not deserve to be queen. My father, not Gothel, taught me so.

Hans pouted slightly. "Don't take this the wrong way, but I think you let that woman control too much of your life."

"Excuse me?"

Hans shrugged. "She's nice and I'm sure she just wants to keep you safe, but that doesn't mean she has to control your every move."

"What's that supposed to mean? I do not want to get either of us into any trouble." Now I frowned as well, backing away from the secret entrance. "It's not a good idea to just go down some random passage, especially if it's been sealed off. It might be filthy or dangerous; we could get lost."

Now Hans's lower lip curled into an ugly scowl. I backed away even further. "I never thought you'd be afraid of a little adventure. Have you ever explored, or wanted to find something new and exciting? Something without reading it out of a book or asking your nurse?"

Now I glowered with fury. "Of course I have. I'm just not stupid enough to go into a sealed off hallway that no one uses; it's probably a boring dead end anyway." With a flounce of my skirt I stormed down the main, real hallway with carpet and wallpaper, back toward a more welcome, public room.

"Rapunzel, wait!" Hans dashed after me, his scowl vanished. "I didn't mean to offend you."

"Well, you just insulted my governess," I snapped, stopping where this hall met another leading to the conservatory and the gardens. "You have no idea how much she means to me; she's like-" I glanced around to make sure no eavesdropping servants were present. "-like my mother."

"Oh." An agitated hush dangled between us. Hans stared at the newly polished tips of his boots. "You must love her very much."

"I do." I sighed, regretting my harshness. He only wanted a bit of fun; I shouldn't have gotten so angry. Besides, what harm could possibly come to us?

"We don't have to go in there if you don't want to."

"No, no, it's alright, maybe you're right." I grinned cheekily. "She doesn't have to know everything I do."

His bushy auburn eyebrows perked up. "If you're sure-"

I chortled nervously. "Get a lantern. I want to see what's down that staircase."

000

Turns out, the staircase led to an antechamber, from which six hallways sprouted. The floor was only packed caramel dirt that gathered into thin mounds, shuffled together beneath our feet; a damp, rancid odor wafted from the stone walls. Columns of withering stones stacked together, green and gray from age and moisture, held up the heavy domed ceiling. The image of the rocks collapsing on us made me shudder.

"Sh, I've got you." Hans's gloved right hand encased mine as he held the lantern aloft with the left. "Which way do you want to go?"

"I don't know." A bullet shivered down my spine. Stories of servants getting lost in secret passages and starving to death, without ever seeing the light of day, urged me to run back up the staircase and head straight for the outdoors, where the sun shined without restraint, but I wouldn't chicken out on Hans. Hans is with me, Hans will keep me safe.

"I say we go down this one."

"Okay." I didn't bother looking, reckoning I'd probably scare myself out of it and alienate him for good. We trudged down the dirt path, the soil shifting slightly with wetness and sticking to our shoes. Gothel's going to kill me.

"Look Rapunzel, it's all harmless. It's quite fascinating, really." I looked; it wasn't that much different from the antechamber, save for the walls and ceiling curving over us in a menacing tunnel. Quite boring, to be honest.

"What if we get lost?"

"We won't get lost."

"You sound so certain. You've never been here."

"Feel how muddy it is?"

"Yes, we've ruined our shoes."

"I thought you didn't like shoes."

"I don't, but that doesn't mean I want to ruin them!" I laughed.

"I think that ship has sailed." He teased back. "I dare you to take them off."

"Hans! I don't know what we're walking in." The horrifying prospect of bats and their waste dawned on me. "Do you think there's going to be anything down here?"

"I doubt it. I just wanted to explore."

"I wonder if this goes all the way under the castle."

"What makes you think that?"

"Well, there's several tunnels and hallways, and they all seem to be leading somewhere. Besides, this castle is three hundred years old. It makes me wonder if there's a whole system of catacombs beneath the castle. Maybe an abandoned shortcut for servants."

"Or an escape route for times of trouble."

"I doubt you could find your way."

"Perhaps they had drills or something. But Corona's a pretty peaceful place; there hasn't been a war here since before your father was king."

"Yes I remember. Father said that after witnessing all the horrors, he vowed never to raise an army or declare war against anyone."

"There's no army?"

"Well, there's the guard and some militias. But we're not that kind of kingdom- not to insult the Southern Isles or other warlike places- I mean, places that have good militaries- oh, I'm so sorry." My shoulders slumped in disgust at myself. Just leave me here to rot; it's as good as I deserve, disobeying Mother Gothel and insulting you.

Hans released my hand. My heart froze, prepared to drop. Then it purred in relief as he threw his arm around my shoulders.

"No offense taken. I agree, my father has too many wars. He says it's necessary to protect our interests, but I think he's just trying to get the people to like him."

"With war?"

"It boosts public morale. Not too much war. After a while, the constant strain gets old and the people are less impassioned. But if you have a series of small skirmishes, the populace becomes fierce and spirited. They believe they're fighting for a great nation and are willing to do more for king and country." Hans smirked. "My father isn't really a king; he's a general. And his forte is on the battlefield."

"That's interesting." I couldn't conjure a clever response like Gothel. Father never did declare war; it was impossible for me to relate. "Is that good?"

"Depends on how you look at it." He puffed out his chest. "The Isles have always been a militant state. Every man is required to enlist in the army for at least a year. I am an admiral."

"You're an admiral?" I repeated incredulously. I pictured him in the tailored navy blue coat, adorned with golden braids, and the giant, rather cumbersome hat naval officers wore. He would look quite handsome in uniform.

"Aye. I've been in a few battles- nothing major. My brothers did all the real work." He stopped in his tracks. "To be honest, I haven't done very much in my life."

"It's alright," I consoled him. "Neither have I."

"Well, you're cooped up here with her your studies. Me, I've had my chances, and I threw them away." A doleful gaze captured mine. "It's one of the reasons my father looks down on me. He's certainly glad I'm not going to become king."

Poor Hans. I patted his shoulder gently. "Well, it may not be a popular sentiment, but I think you would make a great king. You could rule very well if you had the chance."

Hans hugged me. "That I could. That I could."

Our tender moment was interrupted by a rumbling. The thuds of approaching footsteps- a myriad- reverberated off the walls.

"Hans?" I pulled away from him, arms out defensively, not sure what was coming.

Torchlight gleamed on the stone walls. Demonic, distorted shadows writhed in the yellow glow. A familiar, blind bullet of liquid panic shimmied up and down my spine.

"Hans?" I cried, my voice shrill.

"Rider!" The Captain of the Guards and a handful of men burst around the corner, swords and torches in tow. Charging among them was… a horse? A white steed, neighing ferociously. His beautiful mane fluttered behind him.

"Stop! Stop!" Hans raised his hands. "We're not intruders!" I blessed him mentally for his sharp mind- a mark of an Admiral.

"Your Highness!" The guards halted and bowed. "And Prince Hans, of the Southern Isles."

"What's going on?" I demanded.

"We've been looking for you everywhere." Captain pointed from where he came. "Conli, take Her Highness and His Highness to the throne room. Quickly. There's been a robbery."

000

Our tunnel intersected with a staircase cut into the wall, which led to the servants' quarters. The stream of servants coming and going had not dwindled, even with a crime, and each of them made sure to bow or curtsy as we passed.

Conli guided us through a labyrinth of corridors until we finally reached the throne room. I never cared for the throne room; its blandness made it less beautiful than the conservatory and less grand than the ballroom. The marble paneled walls and gigantic stain-glass windows were alright, but the golden sun emblem of Corona was everywhere: on plum-hued dovetailed banners hanging from the ceiling, flags protruding from the wall, in violet and lime colored patterns of stained glass in the windows. The countless rows of pews reminded me of a church. At the front of the room, on a raised platform, two oversized chairs with amethyst cushions and gold leaf were erected. Normally my crown- a delicate golden tiara composed of a web of bejeweled vines woven together, all connected to three egg-sized teardrop diamonds- rested on a cushion between them, but today it had vanished. Instead, a troupe of guards formed a rectangle around the thrones, with numerous others carefully investigating the scene.

My father, sweet Papa, was off to the side, discussing something in a hushed tone with Elias. My mother clung to his arm. Gothel stood there as well, hyperventilating, but as soon as she saw us she stormed over.

"Where on earth have you been?" she snarled, roughing grabbing my wrist to haul me away from Hans.

"We were exploring." I stumbled over my skirt as she yanked me over to a corner. The embroidery I'd done on the hem disappeared under a thick layer of mud. I hated to think of my shoes.

"Why are you so filthy? You look like a sow in the mud. And why were you with him?"

"I was showing him the castle; he's our guest."

Gothel let go of wrist only to clench my shoulders. "What did I tell you about seeing that boy? They only want one thing. You are too young to be chasing after grown men, like a little trollop-"

"That's enough, Gothel." Father's firm voice pierced through her sardonic lecture. "I will take this from here."

"Your Majesty." Gothel curtsied. "I was only telling the Princess that-"

"Please." Father gestured to the exit. "I must speak to my daughter as her father."

"Very well, Your Majesty." Gothel curtsied a second time as she proceeded to scurry away. "I only want what is best for her."

Father stiffened. "I do not believe that calling her degrading names and limiting her contact with people is the right way of going about it."

Gothel's face simmered, but she obediently departed. Father shook his head, turning to face me.

"Father, it was nothing, she only wants to protect me," I explained, hoping to vindicate my governess. He held up his broad palm for silence.

"I heard you and Prince Hans were wandering through the catacombs. It's incredibly hazardous down there. What were you doing?"

"Exploring," I said for the thousandth time. "Honest. Nothing inappropriate happened. Mother Gothel is simply paranoid at times, that's all. I promised her I wouldn't do anything stupid."

"And yet you went into unknown territory with a stranger."

"Hans isn't a stranger. We're friends."

"Rapunzel," he uttered in a warning tone, "I've seen the way you look at that boy. He's a nice young man, I'll give him that, but you are not even eighteen. He is three years your senior and the last in line to inherit the throne."

"What does that matter?"

"I don't want to sound like Gothel, but the fact that you are the future queen of a prosperous kingdom may entice more than you like to think."

I fumed. I wished everyone would just stop with the subject of my inheritance. Being the princess didn't do much for me; I never received any training in statesmanship or diplomacy. I fumbled over sentences and courtly banters at engagements, making me an odd duck among peers. The pinnacle of my career consisted of visits to the poor, with bread and gifts, but even that felt superficial. Nothing stood out in my sheltered life, except for one beacon of light: Hans.

The more I thought about it, in the presence of Father, I realized how he was akin to a mirror. We were limited in our endeavours as royalty, with an illustrious family name to live up to. We spent our lives as the black sheep, unsavory elements to be kept out of view. His brothers' shadows covered him, while Gothel essentially sealed me in an ivory tower. We blew like refuse in the wind, searching, and now that we found each other to reflect ourselves, like mirrors, everybody seemed determined to take that away.

I yearned to say these things to Father, to make him understand, to let him know me better, but the words refused to form. These phrases sounded insipid, immature, so I remained silent, but burning. And dreaming. Was I always to simply dream, rather than do?

"Darling, I know these feelings are wonderful and confusing at the same time. And I don't agree with Gothel's methods at all. I think she's protective to the point of cruel. She repeatedly steps out of line. I think it is time you moved beyond the charge of a governess, to be honest. You are the next ruler of Corona."

"You're firing her?" Hearing his disapproval of Gothel gave me a mean satisfaction, but life without her? Unimaginable.

"No, but reducing her role. She's too controlling." I couldn't disagree.

"Won't she be upset?"

"Most likely, but her feelings are secondary to the wellbeing of my daughter." Father laid his hand atop my head. "I know I haven't been the most exemplary father, even among kings. But there is time to change that."

"What do you mean?"

"It means, my darling, that I fully intend on spending more time with you, teaching you the finer points of ruling a kingdom."

I gasped, wondering if I heard right. The image of me, next to him as he addressed Parliament, speaking with petitioners, pouring over documents, inundated my mind. It enlivened and bored me concurrently.

Father chuckled at my expression. "It is not as bad as it seems. I want you to be prepared to be a good queen. As for the boy-" he noticed my worried moue "-I will allow you to continue seeing him. To be honest, I rather like him. But, do not let him goad you into anything you don't want. Understand?"

I nodded avidly. He chuckled again, shifting his focus back to the robbery. "Now, about the catacombs. Did you see anything suspicious down there?"

"No. Why were the guards down there?"

"They were looking for a thief that was here today. There's a whole system of underground tunnels beneath this castle. It used to be an escape route for times of trouble-"

"So Hans and I were both right!" I recalled our conversation as we hiked.

"Don't tell him too much; he is not of this kingdom."

"Of course, Father."

"But we discourage any use of them today. They haven't been taken care of and are subject to collapse. They only lead to shortcuts in the servants' quarters or hidden entrances to the castle."

"Really?"

"Boat landings. Alternate routes to the dungeons." Father cringed. "That aside, there's something about the theft that I wanted to tell you."

"What, Papa?"

"Well, er-" The usual tranquility he wore drained from his face. He cleared his throat several times until finally muttering, "Your crown was stolen."

Yet again, I was appalled.

"The notorious thief, Flynn Rider, absconded with it half an hour ago." Father's mustache twitchted unpleasantly. "I have my best men on the hunt for him. We will get your crown back, I assure you. That man's earned himself a life sentence several times over. No one was hurt, thank goodness."

I held my tongue for all of thirty seconds before bursting out in hysterical giggles. My father, along with numerous guards, looked on disbelief.

It is funny how easily one balks at good fortune but laughs at the bad.

Oops! I contradicted myself in the last two chapters by saying Rapunzel is 17 and 18. To be clear, she is not eighteen: she is a few weeks shy of eighteen. But to her, and when it comes to telling Gothel she's a grown up, Rapunzel likes to think of herself as eighteen. Sorry!

Anyway, I hoped you enjoyed this chapter. I liked the parts w/ Hans, but my writing is shakier and of lesser quality later on. I'll try to do better. Please review and spread the word! Feedback is an author's fuel!