My Name is Rapunzel(81)

The tears coursed down my cheeks and dripped from my jaw. “How can I—?”

“How can you forgive me?” Henry stared at the dirt. “Maybe you cannot. Perhaps that’s asking too much of any mother.”

I smiled softly and cupped his chin, forcing his eyes to mine. “No. How can I help you get over the regret? Henry, my love, I know you’d never have hurt Luke intentionally. You were only trying to protect us—even him. I hold no bitterness toward you for a mistake you made as a dragon. I only wish you could have known him as I did.”

“I did know him. And I loved him.” Henry let out a shuddering breath as though releasing his guilt then leaned forward and planted a delicate kiss on the tip of my nose. “I know I've asked before, but I wanted to do this properly. Once and for all, if you don't mind.” He gripped my hand as he dropped down on one knee.

This day was here. Again. Could he hear my heart beating?

Henry smiled and lifted my left hand to his lips. He placed a gentle kiss on the top, then turned it over and kissed my palm.

Shivers raced through my body and tiny bumps covered my skin.

“Rapunzel, will you do me the honor of becoming my wife and making me the happiest man on this earth?” He gazed into my eyes.

“Yes! Of course, yes!” I yanked Henry to his feet and drew him close.

Henry pulled back until our eyes met. Before I could utter another word, he kissed me for the third time in over two hundred years. I closed my eyes and the sounds of the forest disappeared as my heart took flight.

Henry moved his lips beside my ear and whispered, “A happy life is having you as my wife. I love you.”

“I love you too.”

“Shall we leave then? Together?” Henry asked, just as he had so long ago.

I nodded and slid my hand into his. We finally had our happily ever after.

As we walked through the forest, a clump of my hair snagged on some fallen branches and jerked me to a halt. I walked closer to the branches, then tugged and pulled. It was no use. My hair was too strong.

“Let me help.” Henry bent down and pulled on the tangled hair. It snapped free.

I gasped at the snarled hair wound through the twigs. My hair. The curse was broken.

Henry leaned in, concern lining his face. “What's wrong?”

“Nothing. Nothing is wrong. Everything is perfect.” Forever.





CHAPTER FORTY-TWO




Fairy Tales are Real

By John Jenkins



Dear Readers,

Welcome to the seventh full moon article this year. I'm sure you're well aware of my last article and how this one is contradicting. This, my dear readers, will be the last article I write, for I am off to live my own fairy tale.

Recently I've come to realize that some fairy tales are indeed real. Not only are they real, but also magical in every sense of the word.

Fairy tales are not just fun stories told to children in grade school. They exist all around us. Love is the happy ending that will break any curse, and we can all find it.

I've never met Little Red Riding Hood. Nor have I dealt with Rumpelstiltskin.

But I have, however, met the real Rapunzel, seen a dragon, and gone up against a witch.

I will never be the same, literally and figuratively, so I’m off to live my own fairy tale.

Farewell my dear readers. May all your own fairy tales come true!