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The Kingdom of Corona had been celebrating for three days straight, but for Rapunzel, the best part of her nineteenth birthday was the quiet afternoon in the royal family’s private solar.
It had been exactly one year since she had returned home. One year since the lanterns, the tower, and the sacrifice that had turned her seventy feet of magical golden hair into a cute, choppy brown bob. Rapunzel loved her new life. She loved her parents, she loved her kingdom, and most of all, she loved the man currently shifting his weight from boot to boot by the fireplace.
Still, every now and then, she found herself staring up at the high vaulted ceilings of the palace, her fingers twitching with the phantom memory of golden strands wrapped around her wrists.
"Alright, alright, gather 'round," Eugene announced, clapping his hands together. He flashed that easy, crooked smile—the one that still made Rapunzel’s heart do a little flip. "Your Majesties, Captain, frog—"
Squeak.
"—chameleon, my apologies, Pascal. It is time for the main event. The piece de resistance. The Eugene Fitzherbert Birthday Spectacular."
King Frederic chuckled warmly, exchanging an amused glance with Queen Arianna. The Captain of the Guard, standing strictly by the doors, merely crossed his arms, though the harsh scowl he usually reserved for Eugene had softened into a state of perpetual, mild suspicion.
Eugene stepped forward and presented Rapunzel with an oblong wooden box. It was polished mahogany, inlaid with the sun crest of Corona in gold.
"Happy Birthday, Rapunzel," Eugene said softly, the theatrical bravado dropping away entirely, leaving only the profound, tender adoration he reserved just for her.
"Oh, Eugene..." Rapunzel traced the sun crest before undoing the brass latch. "You didn't have to—"
She opened the lid. The words died in her throat.
Resting on a bed of crimson velvet was a grappling hook.
It was a masterpiece of blacksmithing, forged from gleaming, lightweight steel, with leather-wrapped prongs to prevent scratching whatever it latched onto. Attached to the ring at the base was a massive coil of braided silk rope—thin, incredibly strong, and dyed a brilliant, vibrant purple.
Rapunzel stared at it, her green eyes wide.
The silence in the room stretched.
"Is that..." the Captain of the Guard began, his voice dropping an octave as his hand instinctively drifted toward the pommel of his sword. "...a burglar's tool?"
"Eugene," King Frederic said, his brow furrowing as he leaned forward. "I know adjusting to palace life has been a transition for you, but are you... gifting my daughter a mechanism for unauthorized procurement?"
"I believe the street term is 'breaking and entering,' dear," Queen Arianna murmured, though the corner of her mouth was twitching.
"Whoa, hey, let's not jump to conclusions!" Eugene held up his hands defensively. "Okay, yes, historically speaking, in certain circles, a grappling hook is used for light trespassing. But let’s look at the craftsmanship! Look at the leather padding! It’s bespoke!"
"It is a thief's hook," the Captain stated flatly.
"It's freedom," Eugene corrected, turning his attention back to Rapunzel, whose fingers were now gently brushing over the braided silk rope. He knelt down in front of her chair, catching her gaze.
"Listen," Eugene said softly, ignoring the heavy stares of her parents and the Captain. "I see the way you look at the rafters in the ballroom. I see how you look at the tall trees in the courtyard. You’ve got the spirit of a bird, Rapunzel, and for eighteen years, you used your hair to fly. I know you don't miss the magic, or the tower, but... I thought you might miss the swing."
Rapunzel’s breath hitched.
He had noticed. Of course he had noticed. Eugene saw everything, especially when it came to her. He had taken the very thing that made him a notorious thief and repurposed it into a set of wings just for her.
"Eugene," she whispered, a brilliant, blinding smile breaking across her face. "It's perfect."
Before anyone could say another word, Rapunzel snatched the grappling hook from the box. With a fluid, practiced motion born from eighteen years of wielding seventy feet of hair, she spun the hook by the rope.
"Princess, wait—!" the Captain gasped.
Whoosh—Clank!
The padded steel caught perfectly over the thick wooden crossbeam of the solar's ceiling. Rapunzel didn't even hesitate. She took a running leap, kicked off the edge of a velvet settee, and swung in a massive, glorious arc across the room.
A peal of joyous, ringing laughter echoed through the solar. She swung back, flipped gracefully at the apex of the arc, and landed perfectly on her bare feet right beside Eugene.
Pascal, who had hitched a ride on her shoulder, pumped a tiny green fist in the air.
King Frederic had half-risen from his chair in panic, while the Queen was now openly laughing. The Captain looked like he needed a strong drink.
"You see?" Eugene looked at the King and Captain with a smug, vindicated smirk. "Not a thief. Just an acrobat. Though, I gotta admit, the footwork is a lot faster without seventy pounds of blonde dragging behind you."
Rapunzel laughed, reeling in the silk rope with practiced ease. She threw her arms around Eugene’s neck, the cold steel of the hook pressing against his back, and kissed him fiercely.
Eugene stumbled back a half-step, pleasantly surprised, before his arms wrapped around her waist, pulling her close.
"Thank you," she mumbled against his lips.
"Anything for you, sunshine," he replied, resting his forehead against hers. "Though, just to be clear for his Majesty's sake, we are not using this to steal the crown jewels."
"Of course not," Rapunzel giggled, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "Just... maybe to sneak out to the kitchens for midnight cupcakes?"
Eugene grinned, his signature smirk settling perfectly into place. "Now that is a heist I can get behind."
Later that evening, the stars were scattered across the Corona sky like a handful of diamonds. Eugene was standing on the high balcony of Rapunzel’s bedchamber, leaning against the stone railing, when a soft thwack sounded above him.
He looked up just in time to see a purple rope pull taut. A moment later, Rapunzel lowered herself upside-down from the tiled roof above, hanging by her knees from the silk rope, grinning at him.
"You know," Eugene said casually, crossing his arms, "most princesses use the door."
"Most princesses don't have the best boyfriend in the world to buy them a grappling hook," she countered. She released her knees, doing a neat backflip to land softly beside him on the balcony.
"Careful, or I'll start thinking you only love me for my criminal ingenuity," he teased.
Rapunzel stepped close to him, leaning her head against his shoulder as she looked out over the glowing city. "I love you because you gave me my freedom," she said, her voice turning soft and serious. "Twice now."
Eugene’s teasing smile faded into something remarkably soft. He wrapped his arm around her shoulders, pulling her against his side, and kissed the top of her choppy brown hair.
"Happy birthday, Rapunzel."
"It really is," she sighed happily, her hand resting on the hilt of her new grappling hook. "Now... do you think we can make it to the bakery roof from here?"
Eugene looked at the terrifying gap between the castle and the lower town, then looked at the girl he loved, whose eyes were filled with the promise of adventure.
"Only one way to find out," he smiled.