“I can take you home.” His grip upon my fingers loosens. “But will I be able to see you again?”
Once again, I am on the horns of a dilemma. I want to tell him yes, of course, to bring him home to my father as my future husband. But was it too much to ask him to raise another man’s baby?
I look at him and see he is holding his breath, anticipating my answer. I know the answer to my question as well. Yes, it is too much to ask. But if I ask, he will say yes.
“Yes,” I say. “I want to see you, not merely on Thursdays, but every day.”
“Really?”
“Really. And you would take care of me, and the baby?”
“Yes. I may be only a poor clerk at a bookseller’s, but I can spin straw into gold.”
“I would be happy even if you could not.” With that, I hug him, and then his lips are on mine. It is a different kiss from the ones I shared with Karl. Karl’s kisses were demanding, insistent. This kiss is soft, something he is giving to me, rather than something he is taking away. He whispers, “Can it really be true?”
“It is true,” I say, thinking how fortunate it is sometimes, not to get what I want.
With that, he releases my hand and walks to the spinning wheel. In no time, he has made a long rope out of the straw, like the one he told me about. He places it upon the ground, then picks up a small, thin strand of straw.
“What are you doing?” I ask.
“You will see.” He feeds the wisp into the wheel. It is so small I can barely see it, but when he finishes, he takes it out and holds up the perfect little ribbon of gold. Then he stares at it until it moves. It breaks in half, then forms two unbroken gold rings. He holds one out to me to see, but before I can take it, he slips it into his pocket.
“Soon, my sweet Cornelia.”
He starts to pick up the rope, but first, he takes me into his arms once again. I feel him shivering, or maybe it is me.
“I do not even know your name,” I say.
“It is an ugly name, I’m afraid. At the foundling home, they had to name so many, so many who did not survive, that they ran out of names. They couldn’t name us all Hans. So it is the silliest—”
I place my fingers upon his lips. “I have to know what to call my husband.”
I remove my fingers, and he says, “Rumpelstiltskin,” looking down.
“It is a lovely name,” I say, and I kiss him again. At that moment, I think it the most beautiful name I have ever heard, if a bit long.
Finally, we break apart, for time is passing, and it is best not to stick around when a king will be angry. My reading of history taught me that. We pick up the rope Rumpelstiltskin spun. It is slim, but heavy and strong. He hoists himself up to the high window ledge, then helps me up. We leap down into the courtyard, hand in hand, and disappear into the night.
Kendra Speaks At the very moment my clerk, Rumpelstiltskin, was sneaking the miller’s daughter out of the king’s barn, I finally saw something I recognized in the mirror when I looked for James. Finally, he was not in battle. Instead, he was walking by himself along the riverbank, and I saw in the background a majestic building, made of brick, with four large turrets visible. It flew the British flag.
The Tower of London!
James was in London!
It had been many years, more than a century, since I had been there. A great deal had changed. But the Tower of London had been there since before I was born, and so had the river, the Thames.
James was in London, and now I would be there too. I would find him!
9
Cornelia
Seven Months Later
For seventeen years, my life was like the Isar River, which flows past our mill, beautiful but all too consistent, always the same.
Then I had a grand adventure. In hindsight, it is possible to see it that way. I met a man I thought I loved. And I met a man I do love.
Rum, for that is what I have decided to call him, takes me back to my father’s mill. He says he came upon me, lost and alone. This is not quite a lie, as I was lost when he found me.
“Was anyone with her?” my father asks.
“No, she was quite alone,” Rum says. This is true also.
My father peers at me. “What happened, Cornelia? Were you harmed?”
I know what he means, and I do not know how to answer.
Rum says, “I believe she is unharmed, sir, but her ring and her necklace were stolen from her.”
I forgive him this lie, for it makes the story more believable. And he will give me a new ring, soon enough.