Read Online Rescuing Rapunzel by Candice Gilmer - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Candice Gilmer
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were.
She had been wrong…
The very idea made me shudder. If she could be wrong about the lightning bugs, what else could she be wrong about?
I forced myself to turn back to my new dress. Yet with every snip and stitch sewn, the green turned to blue and I saw his riding cloak. Saw his eyes. It took everything I had to focus and, even then, I would shift and see the stones he had given me, and a tear would creep into my eye. Before I realized it, I was crying, both for his kindness and my anxiety over his return.
Oh, what a fool I was.
How could I believe a word he said? He was an outsider, a male, one of the reasons I was kept here, tucked away for my own safety. I could not be trusted around people, I was too foolish.
Yet here I was, for the third day in a row, staring out my window as the daylight turned to twilight, for once not seeing any of the birds, trees or shrubs outside, my thoughts lost, wondering, hoping, praying for Nick to return. As terrified as I was to see him again, I wanted to.
A few of the pieces for the yellow blouse were sewn together and, while the fabric did not look like much yet, I could see its potential. I could almost imagine myself wearing the yellow and green ensemble. The hours I spent working on it seemed to take an age to slip by. Even the shadows crawled across the floor when the clouds in the sky did not block the sunlight completely, leaving me with very little idea of what time of day it was at all.
Tonight, the orange glow filling my room pressed home my disappointment. Yet another day had passed and Nick had not come.
A slow tune came to mind and I heard myself humming the morose melody, the sound soothing to my ears.
Words began to form and I let them flow around me, lift out of my chest, and I vented the story out of my heart and into the night. Even the trees and the breeze danced to the song. The birds of night, waking, added their own accompaniment, replacing the soft chirping of lively day birds.
I sang. Louder and louder to the orange sky.
“So not to dance, our chance gone, one fine eve’s twilight…”
“Rapunzel. Let down your hair.”
I let out a yelp, my heart hammering as I looked into the dusky night, making myself focus on the garden, awash in the orange light of sunset. There, standing below, was Nick, his blue cape like a patch of black in the light.
I froze, unsure for a moment what to do, merely staring down at him, hoping he was real, not some figment of my imagination.
“Rapunzel?” Nick called.
“Nick?”
He smiled at me. “Do you wish me to come up?”
“I…” I knew not what to say.
He did not attempt to climb on his own, merely stared back at me.
“I have something for you,” he said, holding up a small parcel.
I did not think, throwing my braids out the window. They slid over the windowsill, and I barely got my arm in place to brace myself before they stopped.
“Are you ready?” he called.
“Yes.”
In a moment, I felt him begin his climb. I gripped the window’s edge, but it was hardly necessary, because he climbed so much faster and caused far less pain than Mother. How he did it, I was not sure, but from what I could tell, he seemed to use the wall to help him. And he moved so fast, his arms working in a solid rhythm as he ascended.
With the wind blowing a little more forcefully as the sun set, I slipped to the side to give him entrance.
He straddled the window and was about to pull his other leg in when a gust of wind burst through, flipping his cape around. He started to lose his footing.
On instinct, I put one hand on his arm, the other steadying him by clutching his shirt. His body, so warm and solid, was still vulnerable. He needed my help, and it seemed a bizarre combination.
For the briefest moment, he was merely a breath away from me, and I met his wide, bright gaze. I felt his stare all the way to my toes and my cheeks grew hot, making me look away.
He shook his head, and took a few deep breaths as he
She had been wrong…
The very idea made me shudder. If she could be wrong about the lightning bugs, what else could she be wrong about?
I forced myself to turn back to my new dress. Yet with every snip and stitch sewn, the green turned to blue and I saw his riding cloak. Saw his eyes. It took everything I had to focus and, even then, I would shift and see the stones he had given me, and a tear would creep into my eye. Before I realized it, I was crying, both for his kindness and my anxiety over his return.
Oh, what a fool I was.
How could I believe a word he said? He was an outsider, a male, one of the reasons I was kept here, tucked away for my own safety. I could not be trusted around people, I was too foolish.
Yet here I was, for the third day in a row, staring out my window as the daylight turned to twilight, for once not seeing any of the birds, trees or shrubs outside, my thoughts lost, wondering, hoping, praying for Nick to return. As terrified as I was to see him again, I wanted to.
A few of the pieces for the yellow blouse were sewn together and, while the fabric did not look like much yet, I could see its potential. I could almost imagine myself wearing the yellow and green ensemble. The hours I spent working on it seemed to take an age to slip by. Even the shadows crawled across the floor when the clouds in the sky did not block the sunlight completely, leaving me with very little idea of what time of day it was at all.
Tonight, the orange glow filling my room pressed home my disappointment. Yet another day had passed and Nick had not come.
A slow tune came to mind and I heard myself humming the morose melody, the sound soothing to my ears.
Words began to form and I let them flow around me, lift out of my chest, and I vented the story out of my heart and into the night. Even the trees and the breeze danced to the song. The birds of night, waking, added their own accompaniment, replacing the soft chirping of lively day birds.
I sang. Louder and louder to the orange sky.
“So not to dance, our chance gone, one fine eve’s twilight…”
“Rapunzel. Let down your hair.”
I let out a yelp, my heart hammering as I looked into the dusky night, making myself focus on the garden, awash in the orange light of sunset. There, standing below, was Nick, his blue cape like a patch of black in the light.
I froze, unsure for a moment what to do, merely staring down at him, hoping he was real, not some figment of my imagination.
“Rapunzel?” Nick called.
“Nick?”
He smiled at me. “Do you wish me to come up?”
“I…” I knew not what to say.
He did not attempt to climb on his own, merely stared back at me.
“I have something for you,” he said, holding up a small parcel.
I did not think, throwing my braids out the window. They slid over the windowsill, and I barely got my arm in place to brace myself before they stopped.
“Are you ready?” he called.
“Yes.”
In a moment, I felt him begin his climb. I gripped the window’s edge, but it was hardly necessary, because he climbed so much faster and caused far less pain than Mother. How he did it, I was not sure, but from what I could tell, he seemed to use the wall to help him. And he moved so fast, his arms working in a solid rhythm as he ascended.
With the wind blowing a little more forcefully as the sun set, I slipped to the side to give him entrance.
He straddled the window and was about to pull his other leg in when a gust of wind burst through, flipping his cape around. He started to lose his footing.
On instinct, I put one hand on his arm, the other steadying him by clutching his shirt. His body, so warm and solid, was still vulnerable. He needed my help, and it seemed a bizarre combination.
For the briefest moment, he was merely a breath away from me, and I met his wide, bright gaze. I felt his stare all the way to my toes and my cheeks grew hot, making me look away.
He shook his head, and took a few deep breaths as he
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