Chapter 32
In the following weeks, lessons about tax distribution turn into lessons about high court procedures, which turn into a crash course on everything you needed to know about the neighboring country of Artesia before they visit, which turns into preparations for a literacy campaign for the kingdom's children. There turned out to be a guy who was pretty fun in the Artesian envoy, and Eugene secretly enjoyed the literacy campaign, but the high court procedures were painful.
Lessons on how to keep his mouth shut progress to lessons on how to politely disagree, to lessons on how to command others. Eugene immediately put these skills to work ordering the guards to change their ridiculous patrol routes into something more threatening. It's a mixed blessing but at least they're keeping Rapunzel safe. He begins to settle into his corrected posture, and one day he formally introduces himself to Phil, whose name turns out to be Bill. He congratulates himself for being obnoxiously close for so long.
The queen doesn't speak to him for a week. No one else seems to notice this, but Eugene does. He understands that it's her job to be ticked at him, and underneath this show of disapproval she still likes him. The fact that he's still breathing and that she obviously hasn't told anyone else is evidence enough for that. Then one night he cracks a joke and the queen can't help but laugh, and things are all back to the way they were.
Rapunzel comes up with new ways to propose about every three days or so. They're starting to get really silly. It's a game at this point. She gives him some ridiculous reason to marry her, he turns her down by saying something witty, and then they make out until one of them has to go back to their stupid lessons or meetings or tea party. One day she shows up to her etiquette lessons flushed and giggling and her instructor decides that it's well past time to discuss the rules of courtship, just to emphasize that Eugene is doing it wrong. Rapunzel doesn't pick up on the slights against his character, and instead sees these lessons as some sort of step by step guide that she needs to relay to him.
"You're not supposed to hold my hand," she says, straddling his lap while he kisses his way down her neck. "You're only supposed to hold out and elbow when we're walking."
"Uh huh."
"And you're allowed to kiss my hand."
"I can do hand kissing."
"And we're supposed to stay - mmm – an arm's length apart. And keep our hands folded behind our backs."
He drops his hands to the small of her back and continues to kiss her collar bone, drawing out a giggle.
The king invites him along on a hunting trip, which turns out to be not so bad. It mostly involves drinking and insulting other members of the hunting party, and Eugene excels at both of these. He doesn't even attempt to hunt anything. It's a waste of energy, and Maximus has orders from the princess to keep him safe, making it impossible to charge after anything even if he wanted to. The horse acts very smug about the fact that he can control Eugene's actions, but Eugene gets him back when everyone on the expedition starts referring to Max as his horse.
"Boo ya!" Eugene shouts, pointing a finger in Max's face. "Take that!"
Maximus bides his time.
The queen is a big ball of nerves about the whole expedition. Not that anyone can tell. She never likes it when her husband goes hunting, and she likes it even less now that he's dragging Eugene into the mix. The moment they return home, she checks the king over for injuries, hugs him fiercely, then turns to Eugene to inspect his split lip (which is the horse's fault - the horse, and maybe a bit of alcohol.) She glares at him, then hugs him, then informs him that he's an idiot.
The first morning the snow melts, Goldie wakes him up and drags him off into town to celebrate. She's finally gotten tired of the snow, just the way he said she would, but she phrases it differently. "Look! You can see the sidewalk again! Aren't seasons amazing?"
It's the first day of the year that the street vendors are able to come out of hiding from the weather. They come out cautiously, like bears emerging from hibernation, blinking in the light and looking at their old spots as if they've never seen them before. There's an air of excitement about them – a new year, a new chance to begin. They display the new wares they spent the winter creating with a mixture of pride and trepidation.
They smile at Blondie and test out their latest slogans and jingles as she approaches. Some of them are kind of catchy. Some of them will never be used again.
She darts from vendor to vendor, flowers to taffy to carvings of ducks and back to the taffy again. She gladly chats with anyone who will talk to her, which is just about everybody, and Eugene tries to stay out of it as much as he can, occasionally stepping forward to move her along.
She catches sight of another vendor and pulls away from him to skip forward and inspect everything, rocking forward on her toes, clasping her hands in front of her to try to keep from touching everything. It's a jewelry cart, which means the trinkets are shiny, and as odd as it is to say it Blondie likes shiny things. For the most part the merchandise is mediocre. Nothing is worth even half of what the gold hairpins she pulled out of her hair and stuffed into his pocket are worth. Eugene knows. He has a discerning eye.
Her eyes lock onto a particular piece, and her face perks with interest. Her hands strain not to reach out and touch it.
"Something catch your fancy, Miss?"
Her head snaps up at the sound of the vendor's voice, and she pulls herself together a bit before speaking. "Oh, no. It's just…" Her gaze locks onto the piece again before darting up to Eugene. "Look." She reaches out to point at it, bringing her finger as close to it as she can without touching it, as though disturbing it will make the magic disappear.
It's a ring made from braided strands of spun gold, one of which is formed from a narrower braid. It's simple, unadorned by jewels, and thin and muted enough to not be overbearing.
"It looks like my hair, doesn't it." She pulls herself from her awe enough to qualify the statement with a wry quirk to her lips. "I mean the way it used to be."
The vendor plucks it up and holds it out to her excitedly. "Go ahead. Try it on."
She hesitates a moment, then takes it from him carefully, as if she's afraid of breaking it. She slips it onto her index finger, where it catches on the second knuckle.
"Oh." Her face falls as the magic around the ring dissipates.
It's terrible to see her so sad over something so silly, and Eugene finds himself rolling his eyes and taking her hand to slip the ring over a few fingers.
"Oh!" Her eyes light right back up. "It fits there. See?" She holds up her hand for Eugene to get a look (even though he already knows), then turns for the vendor to see it too. "That's funny. I'd never noticed that before. Do your hands do that?" She snatches up Eugene's hand to inspect the width of his fingers with a critical eye.
Before she forgets all about his wares, the vendor cuts in, saying, "That looks lovely on you, Miss."
"Thank you! It's very pretty."
"Thank you."
She grins and looks back down at her hand. Eugene has to admit, it does look nice wound around her pale, lithe fingers. She sighs once, and looks at it as though she's trying to remember it forever. Then, with a bittersweet smile, she slips the ring off and hands it back to the vendor.
"Wha- You're not interested, Miss?" He looks like he might cry.
"Oh, I am," she insists. "It's perfect. It's just that… I don't know. It seems too nice to buy it when we're just wandering around like this."
"Nothing's too nice for you, Miss."
She beams at him. "You're sweet. But I think if we bought this it would be the highlight of the day and we would have to go home, but I heard someone say something about kite flying later and I want to do that."
The vendor seems completely boggled by this explanation. Eugene wonders if it's a good sign or not that he understood it completely.
Then she catches sight of a kid with a kite and flits away to go ask him a million questions. She calls a farewell over her shoulder and waves.
Eugene watches her for a minute to make sure she's not going to run off too far, before he turns back to the vendor and gives him a cynical look. "Alright. How much?"
The man smirks, just a bit too pleased with himself. "Fifteen hundred crowns."
Eugene snorts. "I'll give you eight."
"Fifteen."
"Do I look like I have fifteen hundred crowns?"
The man's eyes dart over to the princess, who has fallen into a deep conversation with kite boy. "Yes."
Eugene crosses his arms over his chest and tries to look demanding and powerful. He hasn't really mastered it yet. Sometimes it works and sometimes it doesn't. "Eight."
"I've gotta make a living here."
He raises an eyebrow.
"Fine. Twelve."
This is still a stupid number so he marks it as a partial victory. For a moment he considers just grabbing someone else off the street and have them buy it for him. The price would be more reasonable for someone not affiliated with royalty.
"You know," he says, sneaking a look to make sure Blondie hasn't wandered away yet before leaning in and dropping his voice, "if the princess wears jewelry that you made, word will get around. Within a week you'll practically explode with popularity. That's worth knocking off a few hundred. Right, buddy?"
The vendor leans forward too, his voice lowering even further. "And if I were you, I'd consider throwing in a few hundred just so's I keep my mouth shut."
"Why would I care about that?"
"Wouldn't want word getting 'round that you've bought her a ring. Might ruin your big, romantic proposal."
Eugene blinks at him. "Huh?" All his pretenses of being commanding or persuasive die.
The man grins.
"Look, she likes the stupid thing. I want to get it for her. It's not like- I'm- No, no, no."
His grin grows. "Twelve hundred."
"Fine," he snaps. "I'll be back for it." And with that he chases off after Rapunzel wondering how he's going to come up with twelve hundred crowns.
He decides that hocking his belongings is a good solution. He doesn't really have that many belongings and he has even fewer that he's willing to part with, but this doesn't stop him from grabbing some crap, skipping dinner, and heading for the Snuggly Duckling.
Killer raises an eyebrow at him.
"What's with the man purse?"
"It's a satchel. And how much do you think I can get for it?"
The thug takes hold of it, sniffs it, then bites into the strap, causing Eugene to grimace. Does he have any idea where that thing's been?
"Real leather," Killer notes. He fingers at a fraying seem. "Kinda beat up." He peers inside the front pocket. "Got a place for your lipstick."
Eugene rolls his eyes.
"Eight crowns."
"Excuse me?"
The thug shrugs. "Not a lot of people want a man purse."
"It's a satchel. Everyone wants one. And this isn't just any satchel. It's my satchel. There's got to be someone out there who wants a piece of Flynn Rider memorabilia."
Killer eyes him skeptically. "Narcissism at its finest."
Eugene grins in a way that most people think is winning.
Killer just finds it annoying.
"I've got whole boat loads of fans. They'd be tripping over themselves, pulling each other's hair to get a hold of this baby."
Killer just raises an eyebrow and taps his long fingers across his crossed arm, drawing attention to a very impressive scar. Eugene thinks about commenting on it, but decides he should just press on.
"Not only is it mine - which really ought to be enough for anyone – but it's also got a history. The Lost Princess' crown was hidden in this rather expansive bag. " He pulls it open with a flourish so Killer can see inside. "Then Blondie stole it after she knocked me unconscious, and blackmailed me into taking her to see the lanterns before she would give it back. So you see, it's really all thanks to this very satchel that she was able to climb down out of her tower, find her way back to her parents, and – most importantly – meet you."
The thug's fingers tap against his arm again.
"I might also mention that she was secretly hiding this thing on her person the entire time. Or most of the time. I'm not really clear on that part. Not real clear on where exactly she hid it where I wouldn't notice. I kind of suspect it was stuffed up her sleeve or something."
"Or in her hair."
Eugene snaps his fingers. "You, my friend, are bursting with bright ideas. Seriously. I'm not being sarcastic. You're one smart guy."
"Shut up, Rider."
"So how much?"
Killer takes the satchel away from him again and inspects it once more. He traces the length of the strap again, as if looking for deficits, but Eugene can tell that he's pausing to chew over his words.
"Maybe I know a guy."
He grins. "Do you?"
"Maybe," Killer says. "Maybe he comes in here every now and then wanting to hear about Flynn Rider. Maybe we feed him some bullshit and send him on his way. Maybe he's wealthy, and maybe his unhealthy fascinations extend to include the lost princess."
When it's put like that it sounds a little creepy.
Eugene narrows his eyes. "How much?"
"Two thousand." Killer shrugs. "Maybe."
"Yeah, maybe. So when will you maybe have my money?"
"Come back next week."
"Good! Want a drink?"
"Not from you."
"Fair enough. See you next week."
A little more than a week later (because Killer is an ass) Eugene gets the money from his satchel, which is a little less than he had been promised (because Killer is an ass), but it's more than he needs so it doesn't really matter. It's only once it's gone that he realizes that he misses the old thing. He doesn't miss it terribly, and he doesn't regret selling one of his few precious possessions, one of the last physical ties to his old life, just so he can get something on a whim for his girlfriend. Maybe it's more like nostalgia, but that's not really it either.
It takes another week for him to find time to go see that jeweler, and then it takes a good ten minutes to assure him that he wanted the little braided ring and not the big assed, fake diamond encrusted necklace with tacky flowers. It takes a while after that to get the price back down to twelve hundred crowns.
"I hung onto this for you for way too long. I didn't know if you were even coming back. I could have sold it four times over for twice as much. You're a penny-pinching thief. That's what this is! Thievery!"
Eugene leans in, coming close to the little man's face while still somehow towering over him. His voice turns threatening. "You really want to see some thievery?"
He makes it all the way back to the castle with a happy spring in his step. The guards around him call it a stupid spring in his step, as he waves to them and comments on what a beautiful afternoon it is. It's not a beautiful afternoon. It's still cold and drab and the sky is still a dreary, cloud covered gray.
Something must be wrong with him. But that's nothing new.
He makes it half way up the broad staircase to the main entrance when it hits him. It hits him so hard that he stops dead on the stairs, making the guards wonder if he's alright and if they should do anything if he's not.
He just bought her jewelry.
He just bought her a ring.
That's not a gift that you just hand someone for no reason.
Especially someone who gets super excited over getting something as lame as a flag for a birthday present. And that was her birthday, which was just about the only (and thus biggest) holiday she knew about (the only other being Pascal's birthday, which was an arbitrary date and mostly an excuse to bake a cake.)
Now it's late February. There isn't another holiday for… months. (Actually, Pascal's birthday is a week and four days away, but Eugene doesn't know this and the occasion wouldn't warrant giving any kind of gift to Rapunzel anyway.)
And she's been taking lessons all about proper courtship lately. Didn't she mention something about a ring a few days ago? Did she? He wasn't paying attention. Trying to recall the memory only brings up an image of her giggling while wearing something skimpy.
Yeah, he definitely remembers the something skimpy.
What was he thinking? He even sold his satchel to a creepy stalker. He loved that satchel!
He looks down at the box in his hand.
It came in a box. A little ring box. With a hinge on one side. The kind you get down on one knee and open.
Shit!
Up in his room, he tosses the box into his window seat and slams the top back into place. He glares down at it and makes a firm resolution to quit being such a sucker.