Rapunzel and the Lost Lagoon Read online

  Copyright © 2017 Disney Enterprises, Inc.

  All rights reserved. Published by Disney Press, an imprint of Disney Book Group. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any formor by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without written permission from the publisher. For information address Disney Press, 1101 Flower Street, Glendale, California 91201.

  Designed by Kurt Hartman

  Cover design by Kurt Hartman

  Cover illustration by Caroline LaVelle Egan

  ISBN 978-1-368-00229-5

  Visit disneybooks.com

  Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Part One

  1 Rapunzel

  2 Cassandra

  3 Rapunzel

  4 Cassandra

  5 Rapunzel

  6 Cassandra

  7 Rapunzel

  8 Cassandra

  9 Rapunzel

  10 Cassandra

  11 Rapunzel

  Interlude

  Part Two

  12 Rapunzel

  13 Cassandra

  14 Rapunzel

  15 Cassandra

  16 Rapunzel

  17 Cassandra

  18 Rapunzel

  19 Cassandra

  20 Rapunzel

  21 Cassandra

  22 Rapunzel

  23 Cassandra

  24 Rapunzel

  25 Cassandra

  26 Rapunzel

  27 Cassandra

  28 Rapunzel

  29 Cassandra

  30 Rapunzel

  Part Three

  31 Cassandra

  32 Rapunzel

  33 Cassandra

  34 Rapunzel

  35 Cassandra

  36 Rapunzel

  37 Cassandra

  38 Rapunzel

  About the Author

  For Henry, and all of our adventures ahead

  —L.H.

  “All right, Pascal. If I can get just a little higher, I’ll have the perfect view to paint,” I said as I hooked my leg over the tree branch.

  If my hair were still seventy feet long, I’d use it to climb this tree, probably reaching the top branches in seconds. But now I had to use my legs. I jumped up and caught a low branch, then pulled myself onto it. Slowly and steadily, I stood up. Pascal, my pet chameleon—who was perched on my shoulder and clinging to my neck for dear life—let out a small gasp.

  “It’s okay, Pascal! I’ve got you! And anyway, since when are you afraid of heights?” I teased. Pascal groaned—after all, we’d spent nearly eighteen years in a tower—but out of the corner of my eye I could see his little grin. I balanced on the tree branch, reaching for a leafy bough above. As I stretched up I felt myself wobble, and Pascal tightened his grasp.

  “Whoa!” I said with a laugh as I teetered for a second before grabbing hold of the branch, feet dangling. Pascal yelped. “No way am I turning back now, I’ve waited all day for this moment.”

  I truly had. I’d felt so out of place all day in my new role as princess, and I was hoping painting an inspiring view would be just what I needed. The castle guards my dad had instructed to follow me everywhere didn’t help me feel any more at home. I pretended not to see them watching me as I pulled myself up.

  “Wow,” I said when I found the perfect perch. “It’s beautiful!”

  The landscape unfurled in front of me like a dream come true: distant mountains, rolling green hills, and a winding river that glinted in the sunlight.

  As I reached for my brushes and paint, Pascal tugged on my newly short hair. “Oh, no! I forgot my sketchpad?” Pascal nodded. I’d been so focused on getting out in the fresh air and painting that I’d actually forgotten the paper! Pascal looked a bit relieved and pointed at the ground. “Okay, fine, but we’re coming back up here as soon as I get it!”

  I carefully sat down on the branch and swung my legs over the side of the big limb. The first thing I saw when I looked down was my new shoes—the ones I’d kicked off as soon as I’d gotten outside. They were the most uncomfortable shoes ever. Within seconds, the bevy of guards rushed toward me, one with a ladder under his arm.

  “I’m okay! I’m okay!” I said. “Really. I can get down on my own.”

  “Princess, we can’t take any risks,” a well-meaning guard said as he leaned the ladder against the tree, two other guards securing it with a firm grip.

  “Um, thanks for the option, but I was actually looking forward to jumping,” I said with a smile.

  Before they could protest, I did it. Pascal shut his eyes tight as I leapt to the ground and landed, as always, on my strong bare feet.

  It was my first week in Corona and I was still getting used to all the changes. Having so many wishes come true at once was exhilarating. I had parents now. Actual parents who adored me and cared for me! Not to mention true love with Eugene—sweet, funny Eugene! Oh, and then there was my new home, the stunning castle with its meringue-shaped turrets and lush gardens. And yet something wasn’t right. Something was missing. I was hoping painting would help me find whatever that was, or at least help me end the afternoon on a happy note.

  All day, Friedborg, my mom’s lady-in-waiting, had been teaching me royal manners. Mom had explained that Friedborg was helping me only until I had a lady-in-waiting of my own. I didn’t think I needed one. Up until now, I’d taught myself everything, including advanced astronomy! But I was starting to realize that princesses have to do everything differently.

  Earlier, Friedborg had spent hours instructing me on how to sit down properly. And then we’d spent the rest of the day practicing how to open a door. I wanted to do my best, but I was struggling to even have a conversation with Friedborg, since she’s not exactly a big talker.

  “So I guess you’re to show me how to sit?” I asked with a tentative grin as she stood in front of me, pointing to a chair.

  She gave me an abrupt nod. Then she shifted her skirts, moved her knees to one side, and dropped into the chair as though she had lost feeling in her legs.

  “Like this?” I asked, keeping my back extra stiff and lowering the bottom half of my body as if it were completely disconnected from my torso.

  She grunted and frowned, then signaled for me to rise.

  “Um, okay,” I sighed, wondering how sitting down could be such an art. Was I going to have to learn everything from scratch? Would tomorrow’s lesson be about how to stand up? What about walking? It was overwhelming to think about everything I needed to know. I took a breath and tried to focus on the positive. Maybe Friedborg could be my friend if I just tried a little harder. I decided to start with the basics. “So which do you like better, vanilla or chocolate?”

  She stared at me for a moment as though I’d just asked her something too personal, like what color her bloomers were. Oh, gosh, I thought. I have so much to learn!

  I guessed that she wasn’t up for small talk, so without any conversation at all, I practiced standing and sitting until my feet swelled in my toe-pinching shoes. Three hours and two blisters later, not only had I learned how to sit down like a lady, but I also knew how to close a door without ever turning my back to my company and how to properly hold a teacup. Pascal snuck into the room toward the end of the day and just shook his head as if to say, Manners are overrated. I had to agree.

  I’d landed on the ground in a low crouch, and when I stood up I couldn’t believe my eyes—Eugene was there, presenting me with my sketchpad as though it were the most perfect rose.

  “Eugene, you brought me my paper! How did you…?”

  “I know you well,” Eugene said with a smile. “T
he paints and brushes were gone, and I thought, ‘What do you bet my girl is missing this?’”

  “Aw, thanks,” I said as he handed me the notebook. My shoulders dropped a half inch and warmth flooded my heart. I hugged him. For a split second, I wondered if I had done that properly, but then I remembered it was Eugene, the person I could truly be myself around. Eugene gave the guards a look and they backed off—a bit.

  “Do you notice anything different?” he asked, turning in a slow circle and striking his “handsome man” pose, though he doesn’t need to posture. Eugene’s warm brown eyes and mischievous smile are irresistible from any angle.

  “Hmm,” I said, checking him over. “Is it the new shirt?”

  “Nope,” he said.

  “Have those boots been polished?” I asked.

  “Well, yeah, but that’s not what I was hoping you’d notice,” he said.

  “Did the barber give you another haircut?” I asked. Eugene had had a royal grooming treatment every day since we arrived at the castle.

  “Getting warmer!” Eugene said, lighting up.

  “Hmm,” I said. “If you’re talking about the swoop of your bangs being a little ‘swoopier,’ then I don’t think that really counts as a change.”

  “What do you mean it doesn’t count?” Eugene asked. “The steeper swoop totally changes the shape of my face! Adds a touch of sophistication, don’t you think? Does the word debonair come to mind?”

  “Eugene, you always look great. Now, how about I race you to the top of that tree?” I said, drawing a starting line in the dirt with my foot.

  “I can’t,” Eugene said with a sigh.

  “Why not?” I asked, raising my eyebrow in a challenge. “Afraid I’ll beat you?”

  “Never.” He winked. “Actually, your dad really wants me to brush up on laws against criminals…and the punishments for breaking them. He says it’s part of the, er…formal education I may be lacking.”

  “Oh,” I said, unable to hide my disappointment.

  “I can’t let your dad down,” Eugene said. “Having my face on wanted posters for the past few years still seems to bug him. You would think that bringing home the lost princess would absolve me of all of that forever, but…oh, well!”

  “Sorry about that,” I said.

  “Sorry? For what? For giving me the chance to spend the rest of my life with you, my most favorite person in the whole world? For sharing this life of haute cuisine and endless spa treatments? For providing me with a suite in the castle? For offering me a future as a prince, seated next to my best friend?” he said, lifting my chin. “I’ll study foreign fancies and diplomatic decorum and macro and micro economics—even microscopic economics, if I have to.”

  “Is that a thing?”

  “I don’t think so, but my point is that I’ll join a dishwashing club or participate in a meatloaf-eating competition if that’s what it takes to make your dad accept me. I couldn’t be happier, Rapunzel.”

  “Good,” I said, biting my lip.

  “You want a boost?” Eugene asked, nodding toward the tree.

  “That’s okay,” I said, gently punching him in the arm. “You know I love an adventure, no matter how small.”

  “See you at dinner,” he said, grinning at me as he turned to go.

  I watched Eugene walk back toward the castle. Why couldn’t I be as happy as he was? I wondered. We had everything anyone could ever want. Was there something wrong with me? It was almost like I didn’t even know I was lonely when I was in the tower, but everything had changed now. I could feel the places inside me that had been empty for so many years and I wanted to fill them all up. I took a deep breath and resolved to enjoy myself. After all, it was a perfect afternoon, and I was a girl with a pocketful of paint and a sketchbook full of paper.

  I decided to approach the guards and ask them for a moment of privacy.

  “So, I’m in a garden, one with a big wall around it….Do you think I could just have a half hour by myself?”

  They shook their heads, but I noticed the beads of sweat dripping from their foreheads. Under all their armor, they must’ve been roasting.

  “It’s such a warm afternoon,” I said. “And that fountain in the main garden looks like the perfect place to take a little break. Maybe dip your feet in the cool water? I’m just going to be sitting in that tree, having a quiet moment of reflection. Do a little painting, you know? I bet a refreshing splash would really feel good. Are you sure you can’t take just a little break? It would make me really happy to see you happy.” One of them cracked a smile, and then the others did, too. “Go on! I’ll see you in just a little bit.” And they left, giving me a precious few moments of privacy.

  Pascal rested in the shade below as I quickly made my way back to my perch. I was just about to pull out a brush when I saw her. There was a girl in a small hidden field. I craned my neck. She had some kind of sword or something, and it looked like she was fighting the air.

  Who, I wondered, was that?

  It wasn’t easy to fence by myself.

  You might think otherwise because there aren’t any stakes.

  I lunged and no one retreated. I struck the air and no one struck back. I couldn’t lose, but I also couldn’t win. That took some fun out of it. And then there’s all the imagining. I had to pretend there was another person there. I was not into playing imagination games. But how else was I supposed to practice until I was the best? Or prove that it was my destiny not only to be in the guard, but also to one day succeed my father as the captain?

  I was supposed to be doing needlework with other ladies of the court. Nightmare. I’d rather shovel sheep dung than mend clothes and gossip. I’d found this hidden spot the week before using my maps of the ancient underground tunnel system. It was about a hundred paces behind one of the far gardens—close enough to the castle that I could go out there often, but remote enough that I didn’t have to worry about anyone catching me shirking my duties.

  Fencing helped me deal with all of my frustration. My father was driving me crazy.

  “I’m ready for the guard and you know it,” I’d said the night before at dinner. “Just give me a chance to at least try out.”

  “No,” he’d said.

  “On the winter solstice you said you’d consider it,” I pointed out, my mouth full of mutton stew.

  “Mind your manners,” he said, taking another sip from his chalice. “And anyway, that was then and this is now. Everything has changed.”

  “Because of her,” I said.

  “The return of the lost princess is the best thing that’s happened to Corona,” my father said. He raised an eyebrow. “Surely you share in the happiness of this moment, Cassandra. I would expect no less.”

  “I guess,” I said, looking through the window and gazing out over the arena, where the latest recruits would begin their formal training the following day. I deserved to be one of them. I bet half of them don’t even know how to hold a sword, I thought as I watched the royal flags flutter in the wind. I resolved to keep training and working as hard as I possibly could so that soon it would be impossible for my father to deny me.

  “I’m sorry to cut this conversation short,” my father said. His chair scraped the floor as he stood up from the table. “There’s a strategy meeting in the great hall. Now that the princess is back, the king wants us to have her covered at all times.”

  “What?” I said. “If someone chose to invade us right now, no one would even notice because the entire guard is following that girl around.”

  It was true. Ever since the princess had returned, the whole force was focused on Rapunzel’s every move, even if all she was doing was eating a cupcake or making a wish on dandelion fuzz. Did the king think that the nearby nations of Antipe—or even worse, Dionda—wouldn’t notice that our borders weren’t being securely guarded? That our army was distracted to the point of uselessness because of a girl’s sweet tooth and her penchant for glorified weeds? If there was ever a time to att
ack Corona, it was now. Could the princess, who was no longer a little girl despite the way everyone was acting, really be so naïve? Did she not get the danger she was putting the kingdom in? I opened my mouth to speak, but my father cut me off.

  “Have you forgotten that the king took his eyes off of her for a moment eighteen years ago and she was taken?” His voice was even, but the vein at his temple throbbed.

  “She was a baby then,” I said.

  “Well, ‘that girl’ is the princess of Corona. You’re going to have to meet her sometime.”

  Not if I can help it, I thought.

  My father gave me a stern look and shut the door behind him.

  Now, at my practice ground, I thumbed through the pages of my training manual. The book naturally opened to the page I’d read the most—the one with the description of the Winged Beast, the warrior move that was guaranteed to get someone in the guard. The only problem was it required more than one person to pull off. Unlike fencing, it was totally impossible to do alone. I sighed and decided to try the shot put. Throwing the heavy sphere a great distance was one of the first requirements for joining the guard, and I was planning on setting a record.

  I lifted the shot, assumed the position, and threw it as high and as long as I ever had.

  “Aaaah!” a voice cried.

  I looked up and saw someone in a tree. She scrambled down after the shot. Even though I was a hundred paces away, I felt in my bones that it was that girl.

  Rapunzel.

  Of all the things I was expecting to happen in the garden that afternoon, having a mini cannonball thrown at me was not one of them.

  As the black sphere hurtled toward me and landed with a thud in the grass, I stared at it in wide-eyed wonder for a half second and then shimmied out of the tree to inspect the foreign object.

  “Whoa,” I said to myself as I picked it up, not expecting it to be as heavy as it was. Pascal and I glanced at each other. He shook his head—obviously he didn’t know what it was, either. “She’s strong!” I said. He nodded. When she’d thrown it, it had seemed as light as an apple. But this was no piece of fruit! It was some kind of weapon, or something for a sport. I tucked it under my arm, and with a lot of effort, climbed back up the tree. I wanted to show the girl that I had her cannonball thing, but she was gone. Totally out of sight. She was strong and fast and mysterious. Now I really wanted to meet her.