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Mmmm, pudding.

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Rolan takes his time with his pudding, because it is amazing.

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Rapunzel is not nearly so patient.

She traipses off in the direction of her room when she's through.
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"Anything going on I want to know about?" Cearl asks Rolan.
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"You know, I'm really not sure," he says. "Is the fact that I'm in love with her the sort of thing you want to know about?"

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"Mm-hm."

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"Well, I am. And I've told her so, and that if she wanted to marry me, I would. And now I plan to go on being friends with her until she decides differently."

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"You want my job, or just her?"
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"I'm not especially interested in your job, and even less so since getting it would traditionally involve you dying. I don't think a kingdom would be more responsibility than I can handle, but I do think it would be more than I want. I'd just as soon let you go on being king forever; I don't have any complaints about your approach."

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"And Rapunzel you've known for a day and a half longer than we have and already you want to marry her."

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"Yes, and?"

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"Even princesses don't usually see things that - folktaleish in their lives. It's somewhat peculiar."

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"I'm a somewhat peculiar person," he says.

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"Noticing that. Wondering what all kinds of peculiar you might be and whether I ought to worry about them."

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"Well, I don't think you need to worry about me. For whatever that's worth."

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"How much it's worth depends on what kinds of peculiar, doesn't it?"

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"True. But if I were particularly trying to hide anything from you, I think these conversations would be a lot shorter."

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"Depends on how good you think I'd be at noticing."

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He shrugs. "I could have hidden how I feel about Rapunzel, if I'd wanted to. I don't. I don't particularly want to hide anything."

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"What has you so keen on her?" wonders Ranae.

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"She's sweet and funny and she has a hell of a mind. And she's just - herself. I don't think I can explain it any better than that."

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"Hmm."

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Cearl seems to have run out of questions.

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In that case - after waiting another moment to make sure - he smiles at both of them and goes off to see about borrowing that plant.

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Rapunzel, meanwhile, is writing. She's obliging herself to do it entirely in cipher to get used to it. She might be losing some detail by going that slowly, but she's okay with that under the circumstances.

The moss does not have any affordances whatsoever for lying.

Omission, sure, if it's used that way, but not lying.

He really loves her.

She might really be - safe. Maybe she can really trust him as much as she wants to. Maybe nothing bad will happen.

She's not completely... settled about it, but she can't think of an intellectual reason not to be. She's just been burned in the worst way.

But Gothel would've made up an excuse not to use the moss. It wouldn't have been hard, even, the way Rapunzel recoiled from it. Would have been plausible to pretend the same alarm.

And he didn't. And he loves her.
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