Coronation Part 1: Bad Dreams

"Your Highness, please, we mustn't dawdle."

The palace butler Jasper wasn't the only person tailing Rapunzel today. As the Princess ran through the corridor in her bunny slippers, lifting her satin-silk dress up above her ankles so that she may run without tripping, a whole entourage of royal makeup artists scrambled after her.

Fussy hair-maestros were braiding the stray tresses in her jungle of mahogany hair, maids were clamoring over the frills in her royal gown, and young flower-girls were skipping alongside, playfully twirling the long waterfall cape that trailed along on the marble tiles, blissfully mistaking all the panicking commotion to be some form of giddy excitement. A frantic flurry of activity buzzed around the delicate flower that was Rapunzel, though she looked a far cry from the barefoot, high-strung ingenue that came knocking on the palace doors a year ago. Take a look at the numerous mirrors hovering in front of her face by servants' hands and you'd see it too. Despite being nineteen, she still looked too young for make-up - her cheeks had been puffed and powdered to a rosy tint. Her eyes were glowing with thick mascara and dark smoky kohl, and on her lips was a luscious, metallic sheen of cherry-red. Gone were the lingering baby fat and coy girlish demeanor as well, here in its place was a young lady. A strong, confident, beautiful, young lady, who always carried herself with the elegance and grace of true blue blood. Today though, it was kind of difficult to see it.

"This isn't happening. This isn't happening." She hadn't looked this anxious since her first visit to the Snuggly Duckling last year. Only this time, instead of ruffians, thugs and men with pointy teeth, the thing that was scaring the death out of her was regal affairs.

Jasper was exploding, "Two hours ago, you were supposed to be greeting the guests at the congregation hall in the left wing. Half an hour ago, you were supposed to be rehearsing the oath recital with Tutor Hendrick, and fifteen minutes ago you were supposed to be meeting with your parents in their chamber! And now you're late for the ceremony!" The poor balding man threw his hands up in exasperation, "Mercy me, your Highness, if you're going to keep this up, at least learn how to be in two places at once first!"

"I know, I know!" Rapunzel pulled at her stray locks of hair in an attempt to rip them out, much to the screaming horror of her hair stylists, "I can't believe I'm going to miss my own coronation! Oh, why did I let Eugene set the alarm for me!"

They barreled the large doors open into the stately halls of Corona Palace. Rapunzel was hoping for a silent entrance, and that was exactly what she got - the moment she burst inside, buggy-eyed, hair in shambles, and her diamond tiara lop-sided, all eyes turned to look at her.

The horrendous gasps from the nobles were quick to follow.

"I'd dare say!"

"My word!"

"An outrage! A disgrace!"

Her eyes darted back and forth, watching her princess friends on the pews laughing quietly, the disapproving glares of the lords and princes, and the prim and prosy Countess Cruella, who was grimacing with a high dudgeon that condemned her very presence, as if to say, 'Filthy rube!'

Rapunzel tried to curtsy, and ended up tripping over her waterfall cape and falling onto the floor with a surprised yelp. More laughter ensued.

"This is the princess of Corona Kingdom?" Cruella scoffed, "She's not even fit to be my milk-maid!"

"We're very disappointed in you, Rapunzel."

She struggled to get up, "Father? Mother?"

"Our daughter is not so clumsy, or sloppy, or underdressed-"

"-or immature, clumsy-"

"How can you say that?" Rapunzel cried out, blinking back hot tears, "Stop! Stop it!"

Everyone in the room was joining in the ridicule song now. "-gullible, naive, positively grumpy-"

"Stop it!" Rapunzel collapsed to the ground, burying her face in her hands and sobbing, and then . . .

A gentle hand came down on her shoulder, shaking her gently. "Rapunzel?"

". . . positively grumpy . . . ditzy and a bit . . . hmm, whaa?" Rapunzel murmured sleepily, blinking and staring off into space blearily. The halls of Corona Palace disappeared along with the mocking crowd of royalty and nobility, and instead of the monstrous rictus of her parents, she saw the most loving face staring down on her, the kind a mother would look upon with onto her child. She was in her bedroom . . . right, it was just a dream . . . "Oh . . . erm . . . hello, your Majesty."

The queen concealed her expression expertly, not a flinch came out of her. "Bad dreams?"

She nodded pensively and buried her face into her pink laced pillow, "About tomorrow."

"I see. The coronation."

"I overslept and then I was late for the ceremony, and everyone was staring at me, and there were songs, and you were there, and Jasper-"

"Who's Jasper?"

Rapunzel racked her brain for a memory. "I don't know."

And she withdrew back into her pillow, sobbing silently.

"Rapunzel, you'll do fine," she assured her, and there was such faith in her voice it made Rapunzel lift the pillow just enough to peek. "I think you'll make a wonderful princess."

She stifled her sobs, "But what if I messed up my lines or tripped on my dress? What if they don't like me?"

"We're all human. Everyone makes mistakes," she said, then went on to add with a sporting smile that promised a great tale, "Did I ever tell you about how my coronation day went?"

Still hiccuping, she shook her head.

"I threw up on my father's clothes just as they were about to set the crown on my head." She smiled as Rapunzel gasped with plate-wide eyes.

"That's horrible!"

"I thought so too then," she confessed, "But now that I'm older, I can look back at those days and laugh about them, just like how I'm doing it with you now. All will come to pass, Rapunzel. Whatever happens, happens, but nothing will ever change how I feel about you."

"What's that?"

She planted a kiss on her forehead, "That I love you with all of my heart."

Rapunzel nestled her face into the refuge of the Queen's bosom, feeling her warmth seep through her and lay waste to her anxieties. But then something else prodded her thoughts. She turned to look up at the Queen. "Your Majesty?"

"Yes, Rapunzel?"

The girl half-hid her face behind her blanket, "You don't think I'm . . . clumsy, do you?"

She smiled back demurely, "I think you're perfect just the way you are."

"Really?"

"Really."

Rapunzel looked on, still a nervous wreck.

"Really really?"

The Queen laughed, and instead of replying in same, she did something better. She leaned in closer, held Rapunzel's finger in a pinky swear, and said with an unshakeable conviction that was all too maddeningly familiar and, without a doubt, hereditary . . . "I promise."

And something in her mind was instantly put to rest. Rapunzel smiled with satisfaction by the answer, then yawned, suddenly feeling a lot sleepier. She turned to her side, snuggling her bolster tightly, and slowly her eyelids fluttered shut. Within seconds, Rapunzel was snoring peacefully, her blanketed body moving up and down in a peaceful rhythm. The Queen tucked her in. "I love you, Rapunzel," she said, not expecting a reply.

But one did come. Rapunzel mumbled something in her sleep. "I love you more . . ."

Confusion managed to break through the Queen's impassive mask for just the fraction of a second, but she regained her composure, and running a finger through her daughter's hair once more - before gold, now forest brown, a symbol of all the time they had lost and the change she never got to see - she blew the lamp out and closed the door, leaving Rapunzel to sleep.

No creepy old witch was going to steal her from out the balcony this time. Starting tomorrow her daughter will finally get to live the life she had been missing out this whole time. A normal life.

Boy how wrong she was.