Rapunzelle: an Everland Ever After Tale (13 page)

“That’s enough, Mr. Volkov.” Jack’s voice was deep and harsh and not a little threatening, but Dmitri wasn’t about to back down.

“No sir, it’s not. You see, shortly after we returned home, we got word that the little girl’s father had died, and his place had been usurped by a distant cousin, who was infinitely better-suited for rule than an infant princess. My parents wrote and encouraged their friend to come stay with them in Russia, but the princess’s mother—Lady Sophia—wanted to travel. She took her daughter back to England, knowing that not only was there no place for her in Bavaria, but that the little girl would be in danger if she stayed. They remained in London for a year, but since Sophia’s family was all dead and the Earldom had passed on to a cousin, they decided to travel again. My parents received one letter from New York City—which I have in my possession, as well as the others, in case you doubt my story—detailing how happy she was to be in this strange new land… And then they didn’t hear from her again. Ever.”

There was a moment of stillness. Zelle was sitting ramrod-straight, her beautiful green gaze locked on his face, her expression showing none of what she felt in reaction to his story. Did she understand? Understand that the lost princess was likely
her
? The woman pretending to be her mother pressed against Zelle, her arms tight around the younger woman, her expression worried and not a bit sick-looking. Jack was still stoic, but finally opened his mouth, probably to demand Dmitri stop his tale.

Dmitri forestalled him. “My parents hired detectives and investigators, who eventually uncovered a death notice of Lady Sophia, my mother’s friend. She’d died in New York, in a hotel. There was no mention of her little daughter. My mother died, after a short illness, believing that she’d failed her goddaughter. I was in London for school at the time, but when I returned, my father gave me all of the information he had on the case. When he passed away in January, he made me give him a deathbed promise.”

“Your quest.” It was the first she’d spoken since entering the room, since he’d begun his story, and Dmitri couldn’t ignore her.

Turning to meet her gorgeous, haunted eyes, he nodded once, willing her to understand, to believe that he would never purposefully hurt her. But she had to know. “My quest.” He took a deep breath, not releasing her eyes. “My father tasked me with coming to America, with finding the lost princess. And I believe I have.”

Zelle exhaled at the same time he did, her shoulders slumping, her eyes filling with tears as she twisted away from the woman she believed to be her stepmother, towards Jack Carpenter.

“You bastard.” The older man’s curse was a low whisper, and Dmitri heard the hate and pain there. “You think this is how we wanted her to find out?”

“Find out what, Papa?”

Both men ignored her for now. “I don’t know how you intended, sir, but I’m not leaving here—this room or Everland—until she knows.”

“You’re leaving? Until I know
what
?”

The man calling himself Jack Carpenter pushed away from the mantel, and crossed to the settee, ignoring everyone but Zelle. He dropped to his knees beside her and took her delicate hands in his. “I’m so sorry, Zelle. Your mother and I, we talked about it… We didn’t know how you would react, so we decided… We were going to tell you at your next birthday. When you turned eighteen.”

Dmitri wasn’t going to let that pass. “Wilhelmina Gertrude would’ve turned eighteen on June fourth of this year.”

Meredith closed her eyes on a moan as she turned away, and Jack cursed again, under his breath. But his eyes never once left Zelle’s, and from this angle, Dmitri was a little disturbed to see the love, the desperation, on the older man’s face. “I’m sorry, Princess. August first was just a date your mother chose when we realized that you needed a date to celebrate. We would’ve told you, I swear.”

In the half a year since
Otets
had given him this burden, Dmitri had imagined plenty of scenarios; that he’d find proof of the girl’s death; that she’d been raised in some filthy hell-hole her kidnappers had dropped her in; that she’d disappeared entirely. He’d never
once
considered that she’d been raised by caring and loving parents who only wanted the best for her.

But in this moment, seeing proof that the Carpenters had lied to her all of these years, he didn’t feel relief. Didn’t feel elated, to know that he’d solved a fifteen-year-old mystery. No, he’d thought of the way this revelation would devastate
her
, but never considered how her parents would feel.

Because, looking at the pain on the Carpenters’ faces, he knew they were devastated too.

“What, Papa?” Her whisper was faint. “What would you have told me?”

That’s when the older man’s eyes filled with tears, and he looked towards his wife. Meredith squeezed Zelle’s shoulders, and said simply: “That we’re not your parents, honey.”

“I know you didn’t birth me, but you’re still my mother.”

Jack’s forehead dropped to Zelle’s knees, and he clutched her hand like it was a lifeline. Seeing this pain made Dmitri feel like an interloper. A terrible person, for bringing this pain. But Meredith just shook her head slightly and met Zelle’s eyes. “You’ve been my daughter for more than fifteen years, honey, since I met your father. You were the part of him that I fell in love with instantly. He wasn’t what I’d expected, traveling way out here, and I nearly turned around and went home. But seeing you, seeing how much he loved you… I knew that any man who loved you that way was a good man.”

A muffled noise from the older man, and Dmitri saw his shoulders shake. Zelle extricated one of her hands and brushed it against Jack’s hair. “I don’t understand, Mother. Papa?”

“I love you, Princess.” Jack sat back on his heels then, tear tracks down his cheeks. “Never doubt that.” Zelle nodded, hesitantly, and the older man swallowed, and look down at the hand he held. “I wasn’t married before Meri, Zelle. I’m not your father. You came into my life when you were about a year and a half, and I knew that I couldn’t let you go.” His voice dropped to a whisper as his chin dropped to his chest. “I loved you from the moment I set eyes on you.”

Her hand had stilled, and she whispered “Princess,” ignoring Jack’s flinch. “You’ve called me ‘Princess’ my entire life, Papa.”

Another flinch from Jack. “Because you
were
my Princess, Zelle.”

“Honey, we knew that you were special, but we had no way of finding your real parents, and there was danger for you back East. So your father and I, we…we decided that you would be better here, not knowing. Believing that we were your parents.” While speaking to Zelle, Meredith turned her haughty glare on Dmitri, still standing in front of the windows. “We’ve tried to protect you, honey. From anyone who would come here and hurt you.”

For a long moment, none of the three of them moved or spoke. But then, Zelle’s fingers slowly smoothed across the hair of the man she’d called ‘Papa’ her entire life, in a sort of benediction. “There, you see?” The face she turned to him was lacking any sort of emotion at all; nothing at all like the Zelle he’d come to love. “My parents took me in and sheltered and loved me, when no one else would, Mr. Volkov. They’ve kept me safe, when no one else could.”

And Dmitri felt his stomach clench.
Mr. Volkov.
Of course, of
course
she would choose the couple who raised her over him, his story. Of course. And he should be thrilled that she was finding a way to come to terms with this revelation; watching Jack’s shoulders slump, Dmitri knew the couple were relieved to hear her words. But somehow, it wasn’t enough. There was more here, and even though he’d already lost her regard—
Mr. Volkov
, indeed—she needed to know.

Jack and Meredith Carpenter weren’t her parents, but was she the missing princess? Was she
really
Rapunzel?

If her “father” was the one who’d kidnapped her, all of those years ago, then he was responsible for Dmitri’s parent’s misery.
Otets
’ ghost demanded the truth. So he directed his question to the man who was only now pulling himself to his feet beside Zelle:

“Are you John Gothel?”

Papa—because surely he was still her Papa, right?—slowly stood up, her hand dropping from him, and met Mother’s eyes over Zelle’s head. And then turned away. She leaned against Mother, twisting her own fingers through each other, and tried to make sense of the revelations of the past few minutes.

She’d known that Mother was actually her stepmother, she’d always known that, to explain why they looked so differently. But to find out that Papa hadn’t actually sired her? …Did it matter? He’d loved her, and cared for her, in his infuriatingly protective way, for all of her life. That made him her Papa, as far as she was concerned.

And just because she’d been abandoned as a child and raised by two people who weren’t her real parents, just because she happened to have a strange name that sounded a bit like this princess’, just because Papa had called her his little Princess her entire life, didn’t mean she
was
.

But now?
John Gothel was a petty crook
. She remembered Dmitri’s description. How could he
possibly
think that her good and kind father—he was the town doctor, for heaven’s sakes!—could be a crook? A kidnapper? Her father, who’d done everything in the world to protect her and keep her happy, for as long as she could remember?

No. She’d known Papa her whole life. He was a good man. This man, this imperious stranger who stood in their living room, whose shoulders were thrown back arrogantly and his hands clasped behind his back… How could she have thought that she loved him? He was here in Everland to ruin her life.

And briefly, Dmitri met her eyes. She’d expected to see triumph there, knowing that he was completing his father’s quest…but instead she just saw pain. But she couldn’t let herself be distracted by how utterly touchable his jaw looked, clenched like that, or how much she wanted to place her palm against his cheek and will his pain away. No, for now, her parents needed her support, and this moment was most definitely them against him. He should be ashamed of what he was doing.

With what might have been a sigh, Dmitri turned from her, turned from them all. “My story isn’t complete.” A deep breath, and she definitely did
not
notice how his chest expanded to fill his jacket, before he began to pace. “My father’s detectives found proof of Lady Sophia’s death, under suspicious circumstances. Her lady’s maid, a servant who’d come from England with her, was the prime suspect, but the maid had disappeared. Along with all traces of the daughter.” Mother’s arms tightened around Zelle’s shoulders, and she let herself sink into the embrace.

She didn’t want to hear this. Didn’t want to hear any more of this. But
oh no
, it wasn’t over.

“I reviewed the detectives’ notes when I arrived in New York, and even met with them, but the ‘trail’—as they called it—had gone cold. So I went to the places they hadn’t looked.” Dmitri halted, his back to them, staring at the lace curtains she’d made so long ago. His hands were locked behind him, in almost-military precision, and she could
see
the tension in his grip. Was it possible that he was uncomfortable with this task of tearing apart everything she knew?

“I went to the alleys, to the underworld. To the criminals and the lawbreakers.” He took a deep breath. “I found word of a sale. From a woman who spoke with a British accent, to a man named only ‘Witcher’.”

“Oh, thank God.” Her mother’s fervent exhalation was a mere whisper, but Zelle turned to ask what could possibly be worth thanking Him about at a time like this. Mother’s forced smile was watery as she explained, under her breath. “We thought your
mother
had been the one to sell you, all these years. That’s what he told us.”

Zelle’s eyes widened, and she hissed back: “
Who
told you? You
knew
about this?”

But Mother didn’t have a chance to reply before Dmitri began to speak again, and instead she just shook her head and pursed her lips. “The British maid, who I never found more record of, sold the little princess to Witcher, a big man in the New York crime world. A boss, if you will. Witcher had plans to re-sell the girl, to…” He took a deep breath, as if steeling himself for a unleasant task, but then turned his head just far enough for Zelle to see his magnificent profile. “Well, it doesn’t matter.” There was more there, but Zelle was suddenly completely sure that she didn’t want to know it.