V

I might live in a palace with people to wait on me and respond to my every whim now, but I'd gotten used to trading on my good looks. My handsome face and dashing figure had gotten me out of my fair share of scrapes, and when I stared into the looking-glass and saw someone stare back with darkened circles under his eyes and pillow creases across his face, I was vaguely nauseous, thinking about what this might mean for my future.

These birds were killing me. Between the cooing of the turtledoves, the clucking of the hens, and the warbling of the calling birds, I was lucky to get thirty minutes of sleep at a time. And the calling birds didn't get along with the rest of the bunch quite as brilliantly as the turtledoves and the partridge had originally done, so there was the constant threat of flapping wings, flying feathers, and an angry sounding chook, chook.

"Eu-gene," a voice called to me from outside my bedchamber and impromptu aviary. "Wake up, wake up!" the voice trilled, popping the final 'p'.

Striding to the door, I threw it open and met Rapunzel with an arched brow. "Oh, believe me, I'm up."

"Perfect," she chirped, pushing past me and flouncing onto the unmade bed.

I was supposed to keep my door open when Rapunzel dropped by—for propriety's sake, they'd assured me, as if her parents trusted me to do The Right Thing even behind closed doors, which maybe they did—but the unfettered turtledoves and partridge couldn't be expected to stay put, so I shut the door and followed after her, arms crossed over my chest in dreaded anticipation of what might greet me this morning.

"Are you ready for your gift?" she asked with a toothy smile.

I sighed, wishing I could manage to work up a little more righteous indignation, but she looked so hopeful again that all the annoyance from seeing my imperfect reflection a moment earlier drained right out of me. I was a goner.

"What do you have up your sleeve today?" I asked, nudging her so she'd make room for me on the bed which was, after all, mine.

"Hold out your hand," she instructed, as I settled alongside her, the bed dipping under my weight and causing our legs to touch. "And close your eyes."

I pictured a very small bird, small enough to fit into the palm of my hand and make a very small mess there, as I did her bidding without complaint, with noble resignation. The clink of cold metal in my hand was unmistakable, however, and I knew immediately that today's gift was not another bird, as the Queen had promised.

Although, I wasn't exactly relieved when I opened my eyes and saw a pile of gold bands in my hand. I jostled them a little, biding my time, because I was overwhelmed by unmanly terror at the sight of these rings.

This is a proposal.

She'd gotten it all mixed up, which was understandable, but it was a proposal all the same, and I didn't have a clue what to say in response. I didn't question loving Rapunzel—not when I'd willingly died for her—but I was pretty sure she wasn't ready for marriage, and I was pretty sure my palm was turning into a sweaty mess.

Looking sideways at her, I swallowed. "Rings."

"Five of them," she said, pointing. "One for each finger."

"If you have five fingers," I said with a weak smile.

Her shoulders came up to her ears in her excitement, as she cried, "Which you do!" She leaned into me slightly, until her chin rested on my shoulder, whispering breathlessly, "Put them on, Eugene."

I cleared my throat, "Should I? I mean, this is great, don't get me wrong, but don't we have plenty of time to think about this sort of thing? Sure, eventually, but today?"

"Don't be silly, Eugene. Tomorrow will be too late," she said matter-of-factly.

It was true that you never knew what tomorrow would bring. I'd thought today might bring more birds, and I was wrong about that, but I wasn't sure rushing into marriage due to uncertainty about the future was the best idea Rapunzel had ever had. It was on par with building a campfire in her bedchamber so we could roast marshmallows—that is, potentially disastrous.

And now that she was proposing, I felt inexplicably disappointed. This was supposed to be my job, and she'd beaten me to the punch. If she'd only given me the chance, I'd have given her an awesome proposal. I'd have knocked her socks off. I was genius at impressing women. It could have been my crowning achievement in romance. They'd have written odesabout it.

"Babe," I said, reaching up to tuck some of her hair behind her ear, "why don't we hold off on this for just a smidge. I'll get you the prettiest ring you've ever seen when it's time, okay?" I wouldn't even steal it.

Rapunzel stretched her hand across my lap to close my fingers around the rings. "You can do it next year," she said, looking rather stubborn, "but this year it's my turn. I thought of it first."

Competitive little Princess. Besides, the notion that she wanted me to propose a year from now was starting to make my heart beat unpleasantly fast again. I was thinking years, plural.

"So, this is uh, just us pretending then, right?" I offered, hopefully. "In the meantime? A little game?"

"Oh, they're real gold," she said with a smirk before prying my fingers back open and snatching one of the rings up in her fingers to demonstrate the legitimacy of the gold by biting down on it.

"Hey, don't uh, don't do that," I said with a quick shake of my head. "Gold like that is soft. It'll dent." I'd stolen enough of it to know.

"Oh!" she giggled, her face flushing pink. "I saw one of the thugs do that once," she said with a shrug, as she shyly deposited the ring into my palm. "It looked like fun."

Vlad had bitten down on a coin if I remembered correctly, and I really hoped Rapunzel hadn't started putting money in her mouth as a result. I made a face to myself.

"Did I ruin it?"

"Nope. It's fine," I answered without checking.

"Oh, good. These are your favorite gift so far, aren't they?" she asked, recovering from her momentary embarrassment to bat her lashes at me. "I know how much you like gold."

Maybe it was just about the gold after all, maybe I was overreacting just a tad and she didn't mean anything by it other than as a thoughtful gift.

"You're right, I do." It was perhaps an unintentionally terrifying gift, but it was certainly better than the flock of birds I'd gotten so far. "This is just the sort of thing I'd have asked for last year—piles and piles of gold."

I would have pinned my hopes on all of the gifts being shiny like this from here on out, except her mother had said something about more birds, and I was running out of roosting room. Soon they'd be stacked up to the rafters.

"But do you know what I like better, Princess?" I asked in a lower register, waggling my brows.

She shook her head, looking back at me innocently.

Maybe I could convince her that the best gifts don't require feathers and beaks. Of course I could. I could be pretty darn persuasive.

I moved into her personal space, looming over her, until she flopped back into the sheets, giggling as her fingers caught in my shirt.

"What are you suggesting?" she twittered, turning her head slightly to the side in sweet bashfulness.

"Why don't I show you?"