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“It’s very true, Mother,” I say, my mind wandering to the vampires that haunt the shadows.
Chapter Eight
Night arrives, and I’m on my floor, a lone candle lighting my way, flickering as I move, casting shadows and images on the walls. I settle into bed, wearing my old nightgown. I detest it. It’s itchy and too tight on my wrists, but I haven’t had the material to alter the dreadful thing. Oh well.
I stare up at the night sky, counting the stars, and naming the constellations when a face pops into view. My hands fly to my mouth, muting any yelps that might escape. Raúl knocks on the window, a mischievous smile on his face. I glance up the stairs, then open the window, standing in front of it. The starlight seeps in through the opening, shining onto my clothing. Raúl’s red eye darkens as he stares at my nightgown, and he has an expression on his face I can’t interpret. All I know is that my heart pounds against my ribs and not an ounce is from fear. I open my mouth to ask, but he shakes himself and smiles at me.
“I found your note,” Raúl says. “And the tart. It was delicious.”
I gasp. “You ate it? It was on the ground.”
Raúl shrugs. “I only ate the top part, of course. I wanted to see what it tasted like.”
I giggle, and my eyes widen. I’ve never heard that sound come out of me before. Raúl laughs. “I have something for you,” he says. He pulls a package wrapped in colorful red paper out from under his arm. He slides it into the window and I catch it before it falls.
I examine it and glance up at him. “Can I open it now?”
“Naturally,” he says with a smile.
Smiling back, I carefully untie the twine knotted around it, then slide my fingers under the seal. Inside the paper is a book and I grin when I read the title. The Actual History of Vampires. Underneath the title is a subtitle. Written by an Actual Vampire who was There, not a Werewolf Jealous of Our Superior Abilities.
I ran my fingers over the title, a smile on my face. “Thank you,” I say. “I’m excited to read something true.”
Raúl bows. “I’m glad you like it. Now, in exchange for the tart, you may ask one question about vampires, and I will answer truthfully.”
I put the book and paper down at my feet, keeping the twine in my hands. I twist it and think about a question. “I have so many,” I say.
Raúl grins and winks. “If you come to our castle, you may ask all the questions you’d like.”
I shake my head and laugh quietly. “I can’t.” I pause for a second. “What are vampires’ main weaknesses besides the sun?”
He laughs heartily, and I glance up my stairs in panic. When I turn back to him, he’s stopped and watching me with concern. I smile encouragingly. Raúl smiles back. “I laughed because that would be your question. As for the answer? Fire. It’s close to the sun, after all.”
He told me before it could harm him. I’m not surprised he doesn’t want to tell me others. “Will you visit again tomorrow?”
He smiles genuinely at me. “Of course, princess.”
He sweeps into another elaborate bow and I giggle before saying, “I’m not a princess.”
“You live in a castle tower. It only seems fitting to call you a princess.” He bows again before drifting down to the ground. He waves at me before becoming another shadow in the forest.
The next morning, I awaken with a smile on my face. I am glad that Raúl had stopped by my window. I haven’t had much adult interaction in my life, for obvious reasons. Not to mention he’s incredibly easy to look at. I roll to my side and examine the book he gave me, running my hand over the cover. Today, I know I’ll have time to read it. I slide it under my pillow, then hurriedly get ready for the day. Mother will need me to help her leave.
Upstairs, I make a quick breakfast out of porridge. Mother brought back a small packet of cinnamon, and I place it on the table along with a jar of honey. She also brought me a stack of books, including a manners book for young ladies.
I finish setting the table as Mother glides down the stairs. She takes one glance at me, then the table. I walk to the sink to fill up a small pitcher with water, then step around my hair to bring it to the table. Right as she sits down, my foot catches on an errant coil of hair and I trip.
The water from the pitcher flies out. I watch in horror as our breakfast turns into a watery mess, some splashing onto Mother’s clothes. Her eyes flash with rage and she rises immediately from her chair.
“How could you be so clumsy?” she says, her tone harsh and unyielding. “By the abyss, Rapunzel.”
She rages on and I stumble to my feet, head hanging down. “I’m sorry, Mother,” I say when she pauses. She continues her rant and my shoulders tighten as I stare at the wet tiles. “I’ll clean it up, Mother, I promise.”
She opens her palms and a stream of fire hovers over the tiles and table, evaporating the spilled water. “No need. I’ve already taken care of it. Wasting my power on your mistakes.” She tsks angrily, then clasps her hands close. I peer up at her through my lashes, not daring to look her dead in the eye. She stares at me and shakes her head. “What am I going to do with you, Rapunzel?”
Mother picks up her bowl and cup, then whirls around gracefully and heads upstairs. When I am sure she is out of sight and cannot hear me, I allow myself a single sob. Angrily, I swipe my tears away and clear out the table. I stand at the counter, eating my food. As I eat, I stare out the window, wishing from the bottom of my heart I was out there rather than in here.
Chapter Nine
