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“It’s not a secret!” Rapunzel insists, over and over.
Secret, it seems, is close enough to lie in her mind to make her uncomfortable.
Cass doesn’t really mind being a secret. She can see the practicality of Eugene being presented to the public as Rapunzel’s partner— they’re a more traditional match, after all, and they’ve been together longer— plus he has no other reason to be in the palace. She has her work.
“You know it doesn’t mean I love him more?” Rapunzel checks earnestly each time it comes up.
“I know.” She’ll promise for the millionth time.
And, she does. Rapunzel has the biggest heart of anybody she’s ever met, and there has never for one moment been a doubt in Cass’s mind that she has enough love for both of them.
She’s happy enough to trail behind her princess at public events and watch her and Eugene put on their show, so long as she gets her share behind closed doors.
Closed doors like the large, ornate set currently separating the world of the princess’ bedroom from the rest of the palace, and shielding the lovers inside from prying eyes.
The world is quiet, Cass has a set of soft arms wrapped around her waist, and a freckled face beaming up at her as if she’s the most precious thing in the world. Her own face lights in turn, and she’s left wondering once again how she got so lucky.
“Being your secret does have some perks…” Cass smirked, letting her fingers trace down freckled skin.
If the king had any idea about this she’d never be allowed into this room again; hell, she’d more than likely find herself packed off to a convent before she could make any argument in her own favour. How lucky for them, then, that her presence is not only allowed, but encouraged. She’s the princess’ guardian and chaperone, entrusted to keep her virtue safe from overzealous suitors.
Her lips quirk into a slight smirk at the thought.
“You’re not my secret, Cass.” Rapunzel insists. “You’re my—“
“I know, Raps.” Cass says, clearly amused, “I was teasing you. Well, that, and thinking about how jealous Eugene probably is right now.”
“Oh, don’t tease him about it—“ Rapunzel groans.
“He gets to kiss you whenever he wants!” Cass protests, “I have to use the advantage I have.”
Rapunzel pouts up at her, and she laughs, leaning forward to try and kiss the discontent away.
It works.
“You two are so mean to one another.” She sighs, though a slight smile lingers on her lips from the kiss.
“Of course we are. How else would we know we love one another?”
Rapunzel’s forehead creases, and she looks ready to ask a question, but then a knock sounds at the door and the outside threatens to push into their private paradise.
Both women are on their feet in an instant, scrambling for clothes which they’d none-too-carefully discarded.
“Rapunzel, honey?” Comes a voice from behind it.
“Mom—“ Rapunzel mouthes, even as Cassandra drags her chamise back over her head.
Her curls are sticking up every which way, and she can’t even remember if she’d been wearing her veil when she arrived, but it isn’t immediately obvious in the mess they’ve left on the floor so her chances at covering it seem slim.
“Just a minute!” Rapunzel calls in a panic. “I’m…changing?”
Her voice gives away that she’s lying immediately, and Cass has to bite back a groan.
She looks over to see Rapunzel attempting to squeeze into her stays, which are plainly not going to fit in spite of her best efforts.
“Sweetheart, what’s wrong? Are you okay?”
Great. Rapunzel is a horrible lie and her mother is paranoid about her safety. Cass has to remind herself that the queen has good reason to be, before irritation threatens to overwhelm her entirely.
“I’m fine, Mom!” Rapunzel calls, and Cass has just about managed to drag herself back into her dress, despite Rapunzel still holding onto her underthings.
The door handle rattles, the door opens, and time stands still.
“Mother—“ Rapunzel squeaks, breaking the tense silence with an expression like a startled rabbit.
It might have been cute if a one way trip to a convent wasn’t laying itself out in front of her.
They’re both covered, but what has happened is plain from their messy hair and their rumpled bedding— there’s no way of passing it off as her just helping the princess to dress, as much as she’d love to.
The queen stands horribly still in the doorway, and the moment drags on far too long before she finally seems to collect herself.
“I’ll give you two a moment.” She says, stiffly. Disappointment practically radiates from her, and Cass sees Rapunzel shrink under its weight.
The door closes, and both women exchange looks, before quietly dressing themselves.
The missing veil is found, the underthings are exchanged, and gentle touches tinged with fear are shared between lovers suddenly forced to confront ther fact this may be the end of their affair.
“Are you decent?” Queen Arianna asks, and her voice holds a chill to it that Cass has never heard from her before. Her husband, yes, but never from her.
“Yes, mother.”
“Yes, your highness.”
The door opens, and they’re both supplied with a look to match her frosty tone.
“I would like a word alone with my daughter.”
Cass glances over at Rapunzel for her dismissal, getting a smile that promises she’ll be okay, though she doesn’t look certain.
Noting her hesitation, those cold eyes land back on Cassandra.
“Don’t you have duties to attend to?”
“Yes, your highness.” She responds, uncharacteristically meek as she hurries out of the room, leaving mother and daughter alone.
“Mother, it isn’t what it looks like.” Rapunzel tries, as soon as the door has closed.
“You’re a terrible liar, Rapunzel.” Her mother snaps back, standing near the door way. “How long has this been going on?”
“A few months.” Rapunzel says in a small voice, taking a half step closer to her mother, and fixing he with a pleading look. “Please don’t tell dad. He’ll send her away.”
“You can’t expect me to just keep this quiet.”
“You’re upset.” She says, because while she isn’t always great at reading people, her mother is an open book in that moment.
“I’m disappointed in you.” She says, putting on that stiff, regal act that just screams queen.
Somehow, that’s worse than anything else she could have said, and Violet recoils as though she’s been slapped.
She straightens her back, and sets her features into as best a match for that haughty look as she can, though she doesn’t have the years of practice.
“I love her, mother.” She says, “I know it isn’t conventional, but—“
“Do you really think that’s my problem here?” Arianna cuts her off, sounding almost offended.
Rapunzel pauses.
“Isn’t it?” She asks, “Cass says that people have problems with two women…”
“Some do.” Arianna concedes. “But I grew up with your aunt Willow.”
An awkward beat passes between them.
“So…” Rapunzel clears her throat. “What’s the problem with Cass and I…?”
“Eugene!” Arianna supplies, exasperated.
Realisation finally dawns for the princess.
“That man adores you, and I raised—“ her breath catches, and Rapunzel see the slip up.
I raised you better than this.
But, she hadn’t, had she? She loved her daughter, but she had no way of knowing just what that monster had raised her or be “…you are so much better than breaking someone’s heart by sneaking around—“
“Eugene knows.” Rapuzel says, to break the sudden tension.
Another pause.
“Eugene knows?” She asks, suddenly looking less annoyed and more confused. “So you and him— is it some kind of cover up?”
“No.” Rapunzel shifts uncomfortably. “I love him too. I love them both.”
“And…” the queen pauses, clearly trying to understand. “And they both know?”
Rapunzel nods.
“…I suppose your aunt didn’t prepare me for anything.” Arianna mutters, trying to gather her composure. “Are the two of them—“
She giggles at that and shakes her head. “They’re really not interested in one another like that.”
“…Right.” The queen says, before seeming to decide not to push further. She signs.
“Are you happy?” She asks, after another moment of quiet.
“Happier than I’ve ever been.”
“Are they?”
“I hope so.” Rapunzel says, smiling, now, “I think they are.”
Arianna looks over at her daughter, and lets out another sigh.
“Then suppose, for now, I can keep this to myself.”
Within a moment there are arms wrapped around her, and her stern act fails. She hugs her daughter in turn, and is smiling by the time she leaves— Rapunzel seems to radiate sunshine, and it’s hard not to smile when she’s happy.
Unconventional, She had said. Unconventional is certainly the right word for it, but if these people make her little girl this happy, well maybe that’s worth one little secret.