Chapter One

"Rapunzel, sweetie, it's that time of day again!" The queen called, sending Rapunzel into a flurry of sighs. She hated 3:00 in the afternoon. It was the time when all of the sick or injured people from the village came to be healed by the princess.

She had heard the story many times. Every time the rulers from other kingdoms came, the story was repeated again. How a crazy old woman by the name of Gothel had tried to steal the young princess. Queen Victoria had walked in on Gothel singing a song and seeing Rapunzel's hair glow. Of course, Victoria had screamed, and the guards took Gothel to a cell in the prison, hanging her the next day.

But, instead of ignoring the glowing hair and everything that happened, Victoria and her husband, Oliver, had done many experiments to see exactly what magical qualities her hair possesses. When they found out that Rapunzel's hair could heal injuries, sicknesses, and even keep you young, they knew what to do.

They taught their daughter to sing the incantation, and brought in the sickest citizens of Corona. Rapunzel healed them, and word spread quickly of the princess's healing powers. And that is how, eighteen years later, every day at three in the afternoon Rapunzel trudges from her bedroom to the Healing Room.

"Rapunzel, this is Mrs. Flowers. She has an undetermined illness." Rapunzel shook hands with the woman, who was shriveled up and sickly.

"Thank you so much, Princess Rapunzel." She wheezed. Rapunzel smiled softly at the old woman.

"It's no problem." She sang her little ditty, her mother and father looking like the proud parents they are.

"I was just healed by the princess! Thank you, thank you!" Mrs. Flowers was so happy, Rapunzel thought she might explode.

The doors to the Healing Room burst open. A palace guard stepped in, bowing to the king and queen.

"One of our prisoners has come down with a very contagious illness. WE were wondering if he could see the princess to be healed." Victoria and Oliver were indignant.

"Absolutely not! No criminal will ever be in the same room as my daughter!" Oliver bellowed, scaring little old I-was-just-healed-by-the-princess Mrs. Flowers, who was being escorted out of the room. Victoria just nodded, agreeing with what her husband had to say.

"Why don't you ask what I have to say?" Rapunzel chipped in quietly.

"Why would you even ask such a question? That is the most ridiculous thing I have ever heard!" Oliver was still shouting, making Rapunzel angrier and angrier. She was going to be eighteen tomorrow, for goodness sakes! She can make her own decisions.

"I am going to see the prisoner!" She shouted, causing everyone in the room to stare in awe at the usually reserved princess. She stomped out of the room, gathering her seventy foot long golden hair as she left. "Tomorrow!" She added, running fast.

Rapunzel slumped on the floor of her room. She grabbed the paints from their spot on the dresser. The paintbrush, covered in hues of gold, grey, and blue seemed to be an extension of her arm. Her biggest masterpiece was almost finished.

"Finally!" She shouted, throwing her paintbrush on the floor, making it splatter on her dress. It was perfect: her long hair streaming out of a window of a tower.

"If mom and dad had seen this, they would have said it was a creative look at the way many teenagers feel. But not you darling, your life is amazing!" An almost psychotic laugh escaped her lips. "Isn't that right Pascal?" Her little green chameleon said, scurrying out from his hiding place.

She walked onto her balcony, which was almost directly above the village. She didn't like coming out here much. People were always watching. Like right now. Everyone was waving and smiling and shouting things to her. She loved the people of Corona-her people—but she wanted everyone to stop watching her. She gave a small wave and a smile, before strolling back into her room.

"Pascal? Do you think it's bad that I want to leave?" He whirred a little, and gave her what she thought was a shrug. She rolled onto her bed, sighing.

She really just wanted a week off from healing everyone. And an idea struck her.

"Pascal, its scheme time!" She squealed as her chameleon whirred.