“Oh no, I’m exactly where I need to be.”
Gretchen stared with her mouth agape as the maiden stepped into her kitchen and brushed off a stool with a delicate hand before perching on its edge.
“You must be going to the shindig over at the estate?” Gretchen cocked her head. “Hexes aren’t my forte, if that’s what you’re after. And I refuse to deal in love potions after the last debacle.”
The woman tittered and waved her hand like Gretchen had made a joke.
“Do I look like I need a love potion to get the man I want?” She unwound the scarf around her head, and her face sobered. “No. I’m here because that harlot sheared off my hair.”
As the lady folded the scarf in her lap, Gretchen circled around her to inspect her cropped golden locks. Perfect coils hung to her chin, a little shorter at the back, which suited her long neck strung with baubles.
“Can’t say I see the problem here. Looks nice if ya ask me.”
The woman thrust her chin in the air and glowered. “Of course, it looks nice. But do you know who I am? I’ve a reputation to uphold.”
Gretchen smacked her lips and shrugged.
“I’m Rapunzel, you nitwit! The Rapunzel from the Tallest Tower franchise.” She clicked her fingers. “You know… ‘A retreat among the clouds. Leave your troubles at the door’? You get it? Because there is no door?”
“Those swanky hotels?” Gretchen nodded slowly. “I’ve seen the posters. You're the one with her hair hanging out the window?”
“I am the brand of the empire. If I turn up to that party with my hair looking like this, I’ll be a laughingstock!”
“I see.” Gretchen rubbed her chin. “And ah, this ‘harlot’ is?”
“Little upstart from up north,” Rapunzel sneered. “Trying to sell spa packages in those stinking swamps she calls ‘clay pools’. Fiona’s her name. I mean, who would look to an ogre for beauty treatments?”
“I’ve heard a good mud bath does wonders for the skin. Of course, it was never popular when I was a youngster—” Gretchen clicked her teeth shut at Rapunzel’s glare and thrummed the table with her fingers.
“Can you make a hair potion or not?”
“Well,” Gretchen’s eyes boggled as she remembered her potion over the fire and grabbed a pair of tongs to lift it clear. “I have plenty of hair potions in my kit, but probably not the kind you're looking for.”
“I’ll take anything. Please, you have to help me.”
Gretchen prodded her potion with a spoon and poured the goopy liquid into a waiting jar. After setting the cauldron in the sink, she crossed to Rapunzel and yanked a few strands of hair from her scalp.
“Hey!” She put a hand to her head with a wince.
“I presume you want to grow more of that hair and not an impressive rug on you back, hm?” Gretchen grabbed a clean cauldron and clucked her tongue at the dimming light outside her kitchen window. At the rate she was going, she wouldn’t see her bed this side of midnight, and they hadn’t even settled on a price yet.
“This will take a few hours to get right. Best you stop by in the morning to pick it up. And for these kinds of unplanned commissions, I expect twenty gold coins.”
Rapunzel drew a sharp breath through her nose. “That’s extortion! If you expect repeat business after taking advantage of a girl who’s clearly over a barrel, you’re out of your mind.”
“I doubt there would be any repeat business. If I’m going to forgo a decent night’s sleep before the pumpkin competition, you can be damn sure I’ll make it worth my while.” She rubbed the strands of hair between her fingers and thumb and quirked an eyebrow. “So, what’ll it be?”
“A pumpkin what?” Rapunzel screwed up her dainty features. “Growing oversized vegetables is more important to you than garnering a high-profile customer? For what? Do you get a smoked ham or something if you win?”
“Nah. Just a crappy ribbon and the satisfaction of wiping that smug look from that Mildred’s face. A whole year’s worth of gloating. Of course, I can’t be awful to her until after she hands out her pumpkin pies, those things are amazing, but next time she gives me the side eye at the market—”
“Enough.” Rapunzel held up her hand. “You’re right. There would have been no repeat business. I’m not sure I could have stood the banter. But I can't be seen in public like this. I will wait in my carriage until it is ready.”
She tugged her fur-trimmed cloak close as she swept out of the kitchen and into the dusk. Gretchen harrumphed and set to work gathering what she’d need to put the potion together. Grumbling as she measured powdered antler, she lamented wasting the de-hair potion on Ewan. It would have served that chit right if she got to the baron’s party as bald as an egg. After adding the ingredients carefully, she pulled out one last bottle with care. Just a single drop, any more would—
The explosion blasted Gretchen to her rump, and she sat on the flagstone floor spluttering as a noxious cloud of smoke rose from the cauldron. She should have expected the girl would have all kinds of oils and waxes in her hair to make it shine like that. She picked herself up cursing and marched out to her yard to get another sample.
“More?” Rapunzel recoiled into her plush carriage seat and held a hand to her chest. “At this rate I’ll have none left.”
“You’re lucky I don’t insist on dousing it with alcohol first.” Gretchen rubbed a hand over her singed eyebrows. “Now, are you going to do it, or shall I?”
Rapunzel fetched a purse from beside her and drew out a small pair of golden scissors.
“I don’t think so. I’ll need its roots and all.” Gretchen reached in through the window
