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“I just have a few concerns,” says the minister, meaning, I have issues with every choice you have ever made.
“I see,” says Rapunzel, meaning, I regret ever letting you enter my kingdom, you long-winded old coot.
The minister smiles, unsuspecting of her insult. Eugene, sitting beside Rapunzel and looking quite dashing in his crown and kingly outfit, coughs awkwardly into one hand to hide a smile. He always has known her too well.
Rapunzel does not react. She sits there and smiles as pretty as she can, just as her mother taught her, and resists the urge to jump out the window. She’s great at spontaneous dynamic exits, she’d catch herself no problem, and it would, quite honestly, be hilarious.
Across the room, Cassandra catches Rapunzel’s eye and slowly shakes her head. No jumping out of windows, Raps, that’s what that means. Rapunzel scowls back and reluctantly looks back at the minister. He’s one of many, a leader of some far-off country Rapunzel can’t even remember the name of, and she has been sitting here for hours in a meeting she thought would take only a few minutes.
“First,” says the minister, in what promises to be a very long list of everything this old man thinks Rapunzel is doing wrong, “there is the matter of your choice in… company.”
“Hmm,” says Rapunzel, slouching in her chair.
“Not that I would object to a Queen’s decision! But ah, there are some… concerns, Your Highness, on what would inspire you to pardon a known criminal?”
It’s rather hilarious how quickly the kingdom has forgotten Rapunzel’s roots. Her husband—and their Prince Consort, technically nearly a king—was once a thief, her royal baker and pianist and many others in her court are former thugs of the Snuggly Duckling pub, and Rapunzel herself caused quite a stir way back when with her absolute refusal to wear shoes. Really, they should have seen this coming.
Also, known criminal? Who is this man kidding? Half the reason Varian was such an effective informant was that the only people that still remembered his crimes were the guards. And the royal family, admittedly; but this man is neither of those things.
Varian, standing to the left of her, who thus far has been absently fiddling with a new vial of some green concoction, must be thinking something similar, because he snorts and nearly drops the vial on Rudiger. The raccoon chitters at him and jumps up to his shoulders, and the minister gives them a sharp look, before ignoring them entirely, not giving Varian or Rudiger a second glance.
…Which, now that Rapunzel thinks about it, is another mark against the minister. So much for ‘known criminal,’ has the man even realized the criminal in question is standing right across from him?
Seriously. Rapunzel’s been dealing with these people for weeks. She’s already given her long-winded explanations, her stories and her reasoning, and yet the number of complaining royals seems to have only increased. Why, why do they just keep coming? It’s not like Varian attacked their kingdom!
“Very concerning,” Rapunzel agrees pleasantly, trying not to sound too eager to leave. Her fingers tap restlessly against her leg. “I’ll take those suggestions under advisement. If there is nothing else…?”
Cassandra, familiar with the former King’s favorite phrase, chokes on her breath, nearly dropping her halberd. Behind her throne, Rapunzel can hear Varian snicker.
If they give her away, Rapunzel is banning them both from the castle. She has dealt with too many of these people. If they subject her to another hour of this… Well! Drastic measures must be taken.
However, thank the Sun and Moon, the minister seems unaware of their mockery. His smile is slimy but genuinely pleased, and Rapunzel resists the urge to wrinkle her nose at him.
“Well, if you insist,” says the minister, sounding… far too high-and-mighty, actually, oh dear. Rapunzel turns her attention back to him, feeling a bit desperate, her heart sinking. “I do have a few other recommendations for how your castle should be running. First of all—" And here, he looks pointedly at Pascal, perched on Rapunzel’s head, before eyeing Rudiger up on Varian’s shoulders. “—this isn’t exactly a zoo, Your Highness.”
Rapunzel goes absolutely still. Beside her, Eugene sighs openly, clasping a hand over his face. Varian clutches Rudiger to his chest and gives the man a dirty look. Even Cassandra looks offended, one hand rising to pat Owl on the head.
Pascal, turned yellow-white with shock at the audacity, gives a little gasp.
Rapunzel closes her eyes, inhaling deeply. Then she exhales slow and careful, and fixes the man with her best smile. “Quite right,” she says, her gaze boring into him. The minister starts to look at bit nervous. Rapunzel keeps on smiling. Her teeth are grit. “This is no zoo, it’s a castle. Therefore, sir, I implore you to treat these animals with respect, and assume they are here for a reason.”
The minister looks startled, and then offended, opening his mouth again. Eugene flies up to his feet before a word can pass through his lips. “Well!” he says loudly, grandly, one hand flung out to the sky. “That was positively riveting! Thank you, kind sir, for your marvelous advice. So helpful! But, alas, it is time for lunch. Can’t ignore the bell.” He grabs Rapunzel’s arm, smile wide and bright and a little desperate. “Ta-ta, see you later! Or never! Or whichever works, really! Come along dear, I think the steak is calling for me.”
He tugs into her into a half-way spin and drags her bodily down the hall and out of the throne room. As if following an unspoken cue, Cassandra and Varian tag along behind them. Cassandra is grinning. Varian is petting Rudiger and muttering under his breath.
Rapunzel closes her eyes and shakes her head, trying to reorient herself. Oh, darn it. She hadn't meant to lose her temper. Still... at least it got her out of that room, at any rate. She doesn't think she could've lasted another hour.
“So,” Rapunzel says dryly, once the throne room is out of sight, in lieu of thanks. “Steak can talk now?”
Eugene blinks down at her and then flashes a winning smile. His arm comes around and squeezes her shoulder. “Well, now, you never know! Maybe Varian used the kitchen for his alchemy.”
“Um, objection,” Varian says, jogging slightly to catch up to them, before slowing down to walk at their heels. He crosses his arms, chin tilted up in false offense. “That is sloppy. I am never sloppy.”
“Anymore,” says Cassandra, slyly.
“Do you know what flynnolium does to steak?” Varian asks her. “I mean, even for me— sloppy.”
Cassandra raises an eyebrow at that, looking curious. “What does flynnolium do to steak?”
Varian brightens, pushing back his goggles up further on his head and starting to grin. “Well—”
“I do not know,” Eugene says, speaking loudly over them. “I do not know, and I hope I never find out, because wow that is a terrifying thought.”
“Ah, spoilsport,” Varian mutters, but drops the subject without further prompting. Behind Eugene’s back, noticeable only in the corner of Rapunzel’s eye, Cassandra nudges at Varian's shoulder. She points between Varian and herself and then towards the direction of the royal kitchens, eyebrows raised in a silent question. Varian gives her an ok-sign back in return.
Rapunzel has a feeling she is going to receive a report on what happens when raw meat interacts with deadly chemical very, very soon, no matter what Eugene wishes. She hides a smile behind her hand and looks ahead, feigning innocence. If Cassandra and Varian want to make things go boom in the castle kitchens, Rapunzel isn’t going to stop them. She confesses to being bit curious herself, honestly.
Besides. Maybe it will give those old coots something else to gossip about. It’s been nearly a month, after all—they’ll have to move on from Varian’s pardon eventually. Maybe this is just the nudge they need.
Rapunzel loops her arm with Eugene’s, grinning outright at the idea, ignoring his concerned expression. “What was that you said back there? Lunch? Lunch sounds amazing.” She peers over her shoulder at a guilty-looking Cassandra and Varian and winks. “Shall we head for the kitchens?”
Cassandra grins back with all her teeth. Varian bounces once on his heels and mouths, Explosions. So many explosions, at her with an expression akin to a kid in a candy store.
Don’t get caught, Rapunzel mouths back, and Varian gives her a little salute.
When she turns back to Eugene, his face is downturned but his eyes are resigned. “For the love of—" He sighs, suddenly and loudly, and shakes his head. "Oh, well. It’s past time we had new gossip in here anyways. The pardon was getting pretty stale.”
There are no ministers here, no nobles or guards or anyone Rapunzel needs to pretend around. She is surrounded by her friends and family, surrounded by those she loves. Her greatest threat now is dealing with annoying dignitaries, rather than evil sorcerers, and Rapunzel—Rapunzel couldn’t be happier.
She takes Eugene’s hand, throws back her head, and laughs. “To the kitchens!”