Chapter 5
It's quite difficult for Rapunzel to find time to research these things. Her tutors are starting to demand more of her and although she spends a great deal of time in the library studying history and literature, ethics and oration, law and philosophy, her tutors are always watching her and which books she's reading. Her busy schedule is such a change from her regular boring routine that she sometimes gets a headache. Sometimes she's so overwhelmed that she feels like crying.
She hasn't had time to work on the half started mural in her room, even though she has brand new paints that she's dying to try. She hasn't even had time to talk much with Eugene or Maximus, although they seem to be handling themselves quite well without her. She started sending notes to them with Pascal as currier. Eugene found this very amusing and they had a funny little back and forth before she was caught by her etiquette instructor and informed that passing notes was not appropriate. Pascal returned from his trip to see Maximus without a response. It turns out that the horse can't read.
It then occurred to her that she could send Pascal to gather the books she wanted, but they turned out to be too large for him to lift, and she couldn't bring herself to be disappointed about it because he was being very sweet for trying.
She finally finds time to pursue her own line of research one late night after most everyone has gone to bed. She sneaks down to the library in her fuzzy, blue robe, carrying a candle and Pascal, avoiding all the guards on their lazy nighttime patrols because she's pretty sure that what she's doing should stay a secret and because she finds that being sneaky is rather exciting. No wonder Eugene likes doing it so much.
Now with some direction to her search, she pulls down three anatomy texts, because she has given up on the encyclopedia ever since it failed to tell her what a whore was. She's about to make herself comfortable in her usual comfy study seat when she hears the guards coming her way. She snuffs out her candle and darts out of the library, down the hall, and away from the clanking patrol. Apparently reading in the library without being discovered is out. So is reading in her room, as she can't think of a place to hide her books that the maids don't know about – they keep her room stunningly tidy, especially considering how she likes to bring in flowers and dirt and paint.
She slips into a dark alcove to plan her next move. "We could go outside," she whispers to Pascal, but she's not enthusiastic about this suggestion and he seems to agree with her about that. "We could go to… Eugene's room! Do you think he'd mind?" The chameleon shakes his head and grins at her. Of course he wouldn't mind. What a fantastic idea!
Her books clutched to her chest, she snakes her way to Eugene's room, dodging the many guards that seem to congregate in the area. She reaches it with a grin, slides to a stop, reaches for the door handle and- and it's locked. She trades a confused look with Pascal. Why would Eugene lock his door? It wasn't locked last time. She tries it again just in case it's stuck, but she still doesn't have any luck.
Humpf. Well that just won't do at all. She stows the books behind a statue across from Eugene's door. It's the nude figure of a woman, made of gold, draped with emeralds, and placed there as a test to see if it will be stolen. A quick dash to her room and back and Rapunzel pulls out the lock picking set that Eugene gave her and showed her how to use on the condition that she keep it a secret just between them. She grins as she fiddles with the little rods, clicking the pins into place one by one. The lock snaps open and she's sure that Eugene will be proud. She grabs her books and slips into the room and draws up short, because in front of her stands Eugene, his hands on his hips, looking down at her with an eyebrow cocked as if he's been waiting for her. In retrospect, she hadn't been very quiet about picking the lock.
"You ever hear of knocking, Goldie?"
"I thought you'd be asleep."
"And you wanted to come in here and not to wake me up?"
"Oh," she shifts her weight and furrows her eyebrows together. "I didn't think about that." She looks down at Pascal, who admits that he didn't think about it either.
"Great. So what can I do for you at this ungodly hour?"
"I need a place to read and hide my books so no one finds them. Can I do that here?"
He blinks at her. "Reading?"
"Yes."
"Secret reading."
"Yes."
He considers this for a moment. On the one hand she really shouldn't be slinking into his room in the dead of night, and he is pretty tired. On the other hand he hasn't seen very much of her lately and there's a reason she shouldn't be slinking into his room at night, and that reason is awesome. "Do I have to be awake for this secret reading?"
"No."
"Good." He turns and walks over to the window seat, where he promptly pries off one of the cushions to reveal a compartment already holding three bracelets, a pocket watch, a knife, and the set of clothes he was wearing when he showed up at the castle. "You can store your stuff in here. Just be sure to seal it back up and don't tell anyone or get caught coming in here or I'll be in trouble."
She picks up the pocket watch and gives him a stern look. "Eugene, did you steal this?"
"No. Your dad gave it to me for bringing you home, and if you want to use my hiding place you should stop jumping to conclusions."
"Sorry."
He shrugs, glad that she didn't ask about the bracelets. "Are you going to let me in on the secret of what it is that you're reading?"
She grins and proudly holds up her first book. "Anatomy!" He takes the book from her and flips through it as she looks overly pleased with herself and rocks back on her heels. "You said there were books about it in the library and I've found them."
"Well this wasn't exactly what I-" He catches her look of growing disappointment and quickly changes direction. "But this is much better than what I had in mind. Smart thinking, Blondie." She smirks, which is a different look for her, one that is overly attractive now that he's noticing how her eyes shine in the lantern light and how she's not wearing that horrible corset. His fingers twitch and he wonders if she really needs that anatomy book.
Yes. Yes she does.
He clears his throat and paces back to the bed, where he collapses on his stomach and turns his head away from the lamp on his bedside table. He really should go back to sleep. He pulls the blankets over himself for good measure, because a blanket will definitely keep her away. Definitely. After a moment he reconsiders and turns down the blankets on the other side of the bed – he's not calling it her side of the bed, because it's not, it's just the side that's not his. She gives him a questioning look.
"You're going to get cold," he says. "Come read over here." She smiles and slips next to him, and he turns his head away from the light again. She's going to read and he's going to sleep and that's all there is to it. Seriously.
Sleep. Sleep sleep sleepsleepsleep. You know, like what he was doing before she picked the freaking lock to break into his bedroom. He peeks over his shoulder at her to watch her read, her brows drawn together in concentration, her lips twitching as she silently mouths the words. He can feel warmth radiating off of her, seeping into the sheets, into his skin. If he closes his eyes and thinks very hard, he can smell her. He gives up on sleeping and concentrates mostly on holding very still and counting backward from a thousand.
But then she starts whispering to herself – no, not to herself, to Pascal. Great. Now the frog's in on it too. If this were anyone else, he would be annoyed, but it's not just anyone, it's Rapunzel, and he's got a stupid soft spot for her wackiness, and he's secretly fascinated to hear her thought process.
"All men have it, Pascal. You see, Eugene's not special."
He resents that, but doesn't say anything as he's supposed to be both ignoring her and asleep.
"It's looks funny, doesn't it?"
Pascal agrees with a squeak, and she turns the book sideways to get a better look at the illustrations.
"Hmm. It's not a very good picture. We'll have to find a better one."
Chirp?
"No, I don't think he'll show us or he would have offered already."
Whirr.
"Maybe in the art collection in the library. I've seen a lot of paintings of nude women since we got here, there must be some nude men around."
Purr.
"I wonder why people don't like drawing men. Maybe because women are prettier and everyone agrees that this thing looks too silly to draw."
It takes a great deal of effort for Eugene not to laugh, but he manages, and imagines her face as she flips through old art books searching for pictures of naked men.
She's silent for a good fifteen minutes as she reads about the more technical side of the mechanics. The only reason he knows she hasn't fallen asleep is because every now and then she turns a page. Then she gasps.
"Babies," she breaths.
Eugene's entire body stiffens. Oh crap. Please, please, please don't let her get all baby crazy now.
"This is how babies are made, Pascal. It feels good because it's an evolutionary incentive for people to reproduce. That's interesting."
Chirp?
"It mixes genetic material from a man and a woman and gives that material to new person. We'll have to find a book on genetics next. That sounds fascinating. Oh, that must be why I look so much like my parents! I have their features!"
Purr!
"They mix their genetic material and then the baby grows inside the woman. Well, that doesn't sound very pleasant."
Growl.
He hears her turn several pages, flipping to the chapter on pregnancy. "I've never thought about where people come from before, but I guess they do have to come from somewhere. Have you ever thought about it?"
Squeak!
"Well I haven't. I've never even seen a baby before. Have you seen a baby chameleon?"
Rumble.
"Don't worry. I'm sure you will one day."
Purr.
She slips back into silence for a while.
"No. That doesn't sound fun at all. Do you think that's why Eugene didn't want to tell me, because he didn't want me to have to grow a baby?"
Whirr.
"Or maybe he just doesn't want to have a baby with me." She sounds immensely sad as she considers this.
Chirp?
"No, I'm sure he'd be a great father. He would laugh with her, and hold her, and play with her, and teach her new things, and she'd love him very much."
Eugene finds this conversation horrifying. Absolutely horrifying. So why is it that he's smiling? Uh oh. He needs to put a stop to the smiling and the warm feelings right now.
"He'd be like my father would have been. And we'd be a family and I'd be a-" Her voice cuts off abruptly and Eugene can feel her suddenly tense.
"No," she whispers, her voice almost frantic. An icy hand has clasped around her heart and it's suddenly very difficult to breathe. "Oh, Pascal, I can't be a mother. I can't. I don't know how!" Her voice breaks as she buries her face in her hands, and Eugene pulls her into his arms before he remembers that he's supposed to be asleep.
"Shh. It's alright, Rapunzel. It's alright." He rubs her back and runs a soothing hand through her hair, letting her cry against his chest again. "Shh. I think that's about enough reading for tonight. What do you say?"
She nods shakily as he moves her book from her lap to toss it on the bedside table and extinguish the lamp. He guides her down to sleep tucked up against him, and Pascal takes up a spot nestled against the back of his neck, and he thinks to himself that this position, this sense of comfort is becoming a bit familiar.