Chapter Text
“What am I doing… To my home… My friends… Rapunzel…”
Cassandra sat with her arms wrapped around her knees, the last name barely leaving her lips.
For one brief, treacherous second, she was somewhere else. Not in the woods. Not with the Moonstone pulsing cold and heavy inside her. She was holding Rapunzel again, trapped in one of those hugs the princess never seemed to get enough of.
Cassandra had never thought she would miss them.
The warmth. The weight of Rapunzel clinging to her like letting go was a personal offense. The way Cassandra always pretended to endure it longer than she wanted to.
Would she ever get the chance to do that again?
If only she hadn’t stormed off two days ago. If only she hadn’t been so angry, so certain.
What if that had been her last chance?
“I…” Cassandra swallowed, then forced herself to her feet. “I’ve gotta fix this.”
The words came out rough, but they were enough to make her move.
She had to try. She had to find Rapunzel and make her understand. Cassandra was on the wrong path—there was no pretending otherwise anymore.
But becoming the villain of the story had never been her goal.
Maybe it was not too late to stop. Maybe Rapunzel would listen. Maybe, somehow, she would still find it in herself to forgive her.
Even after the truce. Even after the mine.
Cassandra was not sure she deserved the forgiveness she was hoping for.
She straightened, her heart pounding around one fragile, desperate possibility.
Then voices drifted through the trees.
"Princess? Princess Rapunzel?"
"Where are you, Princess?"
"Princess Parunzel?"
Cassandra frowned.
The pub thugs?
Running into them this close to the Snuggly Duckling was not exactly shocking. Finding them wandering through the woods and calling Rapunzel’s name, however, was another matter.
Keeping beneath the cover of the trees, Cassandra moved toward the voices, careful not to let herself be seen.
Attila, Ulf, Vladimir, and Shorty were making their way through the undergrowth, peering behind bushes and around tree trunks as they called for Rapunzel again.
Was she nearby?
Cassandra knew Rapunzel liked wasting time with that bunch of idiots at the Snuggly Duckling sometimes, but this felt different.
“Oh, look!” Shorty cried, pointing straight at her. “I found a princess!”
Cassandra froze.
Of course he had seen her.
Attila turned, then squinted. “That’s not the princess! That’s Cassandra!”
Shorty clasped his hands together, beaming at her. “More like the princess of my dreams, beauty.”
Cassandra’s face twisted before she could stop it.
Disgusting.
Still, Shorty was not the dangerous one. None of them were, really. Not to her.
She stepped out from the shadows and raised her hands slightly, palms open.
“I’m not here to fight,” Cassandra said. “I’m looking for Rapunzel too. I—”
“You heard her!” Vladimir shouted, lifting his weapon. “She’s after the princess! Get her!”
Cassandra stared at him. What a bunch of idiots.
But beneath the irritation, something colder stirred.
After the princess.
Was Rapunzel in trouble?
The thugs charged, clumsy and loud. Cassandra lifted one arm, and a broad slab of black rock burst from the ground between them, forcing them back before they could reach her.
She did not want to fight them. Not because she was afraid. Because she was tired of hurting people who had once been on her side.
The rock held firm as the thugs stumbled and shouted. Cassandra stepped closer, her patience snapping thinner with every second.
“Enough.”
Her hand curled into a fist. More black rock shot up from the earth, wrapping around their legs and pinning them in place before they could scatter.
Cassandra’s pulse beat hard in her throat. She needed answers. Now.
“What about the princess?” she demanded. “What’s going on?”
Attila swallowed.
“Uh… she’s been missing for over two days. Everyone’s looking for her.”
Cassandra went still.
For a second, the woods made no sound at all.
Over two days.
No.
That was not—
That was when—
The mine.
The rocks around the thugs’ legs shattered into dust. None of them had time to move. None of them had time to ask what had happened.
Cassandra was already gone.
She knew where to look.
She knew exactly where to look.
Fear tore through her so sharply it almost did not feel like fear at all. It felt like instinct. Like fire. Like something had reached into her chest and yanked her forward.
She ran. Branches snapped against her arms. Bushes tore at her boots. She vaulted over stones and roots without slowing, following the path she had taken two days ago.
The path she had left by. The path Rapunzel should have walked out of after her.
She did not stop until a familiar shape appeared on a branch ahead of her.
Cassandra stumbled to a halt, breath burning in her throat.
“Owl?”
Her voice came out smaller than she meant it to.
The sight of him should have warmed her. For one fragile heartbeat, it almost did. Her oldest companion. Her one constant.
But Owl only stared down at her from the branch, silent and stern, as if he had been waiting there for her to finally understand.