Princess Rumpelstiltskin | ONC 2024

Chapter Nine

Rosa's eyelids flutter open, lashes brushing against stony cheeks as she awakens to the unfamiliar sounds of the city. Stretching her arms above her head, she lets out a contented sigh, relishing in the warmth of the bed beneath her.

She snuggles deeper beneath the covers before a trickle of alarm prompts her to race out of bed and yank the rag serving as a curtain aside. A stony wall greets Rosa. But the stream of light from above indicates the sun has risen and has been up for several hours.

Rosa rolls of the bed and surveys the room. It's a modestly cozy room. Empty, except for the bed, a small dresser, upon which lies a small handheld mirror and razor, and a small wooden tub of water sitting in one corner. Stained and chipped oak panels line the walls.

Rosa's clothes and cloak are exactly where she left them, neatly folded on top of the bag beside the bed. The shirt and pants are put back on easily, although Rosa struggles with the many buckles on the boots.

The water in the tub is cold, but it serves its purpose in washing away the last vestiges of sleep from Rosa's face. Rumpelstiltskin's face.

Curiosity wells within her. When she met Rumpelstiltskin, the veil blocked their face. After the switch, they hadn't seen a mirror.

The handheld mirror looks comically tiny in their large, clawed hands. Rosa tilts her head this way and that, gazing at the face looking back at her from the mirror's surface.

The familiar features are there, but there's an otherworldly quality to them, a hint of something otherworldly lingering in the depths of those cat-like eyes. Their stone-like skin is littered with a spiderweb of tiny cracks; a larger crack splits their lower lip and strikes through their left eye. Their face is thinner than Rosa expected them to be. Surrounded by long unkempt sage-green hair.

I don't look ugly. Rosa re-examines that thought. I mean Rumpelstiltskin doesn't look that scary. I wonder why they insisted on the veil.

A smile tugs at the corners of Rosa's lips as she traces the lines of Rumpelstiltskin's face with her fingertips. There's something mesmerizing about seeing a new face in the mirror.

Without the ribbon of the veil and the hood keeping it contained, clumps of hair keep falling into their eyes. Rosa pulls the strands back out of their vision, once, twice, three times. She rolls a particularly matted clump between her fingers before she comes to a decision.

The veil is tied around their forehead, but the cloak is left in the room. Rosa skips down the stairs and approaches the owner at the bar counter downstairs.

The grizzled woman wears a tired but bright smile. "Good morning, sir. Anything I can do for you?"

"I need help cutting my hair. Is there a stylist you would recommend?"

The woman laughs. "A stylist?" She puts a hand on one hip. "Tell you what. For a groat, I'll cut it for you. Cheaper than any stylist."

Rose nods, "Alright," and bounds back up the stairs. They fish around in their coin pouch, pulling one of the golden rose-stamped coins out.

The owner arrives shortly after. A comb and scissors poke out of the top of her apron pocket. A small stool is tucked under one arm. "Alright, sir. Take a seat."

Rosa sits and holds up the coin. "Here's your pay?"

"You're paying a noble, for a haircut?" At the owner's words, Rosa whirls around.

"Is this not a groat?"

The woman looks between the coin and Rosa. "Who told you that?"

"The boy. Last night."