Frosted (Frosted #1 | Jackunzel)

{ Chapter Two }

"I'll be back in two days."

Rapunzel Gothel barely had time to slide the heavy book underneath her bed before Mother strut inside the common room and, as it had become exactly nine years ago, Rapunzel's now-bedroom. Mother's cape was draped over her broad shoulders, an obvious reminder of her approaching departure. Rapunzel shot up to hang her legs over the edge of the mattress, still not quite long enough to brush the lightwood floors. As she was approaching her eighteenth year, she highly doubted she'd grow enough for them to eventually touch. But Rapunzel had always dared to dream, regardless of Mother's ill thoughts on the subject, and she'd not cease to do so even with this, no matter how slim the odds were for her.

"Did you pack up the basket, Flower?" It always amazed Rapunzel how fast Mother's moods could spin from black to white and back again. She made it seem as if Rapunzel had never regretfully asked to go outside only minutes prior, and as if Mother hadn't just threatened her death by holding her out of the tower window by her head. Rapunzel still felt the remnants of pain prickling numbly at her scalp, the only evidence that Mother's shattered temper had been a very real thing.

"Yes, Mother," she said quietly, nodding to the basket sitting on the kitchen counter.

Mother smiled a wide, wicked grin as she flicked the lid open with a slender finger. "Wonderful," she commented, dropping her blade inside. It was the only one in the entirety of their tower, Rapunzel knew, and Mother kept it locked up someplace Rapunzel had yet to discover. Mother turned to her. "Have I mentioned how much I love you?"

Rapunzel pulled a shy smile. It was the most she could manage now. She had been finding it harder and harder of late to portray faked happiness so shortly after Mother's tantrums. Around her wrist, Rapunzel twirled a piece of long, golden blonde hair as she listened to her mother's words. She knew the speech by heart now. She spoke of the same old things every time she went out on her supply hunts.

It's a cruel world out there, crueller than you'll ever know, she'd say. I never thought I'd miss having a simple chat with a sane human being until everything turned to dust. With someone other than you, that is. Mother's laugh had always been bright, strong, and contagious.

But something nagged at Rapunzel on this particular day. It surprised her how much courage she still found within herself, even after earlier events. Perhaps her talk to Jack Frost really did help her moral.

"You never told me how it happened," Rapunzel started, the all-too-familiar lick of curiosity spurring her words. "The earth's decay, I mean."

Mother rolled big, grey eyes as she waved Rapunzel's question away. "Oh, it's a long story that even I don't remember all that well. Must you really ask me this now when I'm in such a hurry?"

Rapunzel stopped her slouching to sit up straighter. "But, as the only humans left in all of Corona, it's our duty to write down history! Once life returns, it's only right for someone to document how the Decay happened. How it was to experience living inside of it."

That seemed to peek Mother's interest. She straightened as well and took a few ambled steps toward Rapunzel. "And who would write this precious book of history down, Rapunzel? You? You don't even know how to write!"

Rapunzel felt warmth flow into her cheeks. "I could learn," she said. "It isn't as if I've a lack of time to teach myself. While you're gone—I mean, if it's not too much to ask—could you perhaps look for a blank notebook, since you don't like my painting the stone? Or perhaps a book that teaches writing! I'm sure they were made at some point in time."

Mother suddenly went still for a few seconds, so long that Rapunzel thought she wasn't going to say anything at all. Finally, to Rapunzel's complete relief, Mother seemed to soften. "Okay," she gave in, hopefully thinking of her earlier treatment toward her daughter. "I'll check for those things if I can, but only because I love you so dearly."