" An orphan who was kept as a prisoner in a tower with plague signs to keep away?" Gina gently teased. "Seems like a lot of work. Nahh, I bet you're a princess of some sort."
Rapunzel stared at her. Then she began guffawing: big, hearty barks of laughter.
"She doesn't sound like one," Flynn observed.
"She wears a pretty dress like one," Gina pointed out.
"Your skin is creamy and perfect," Flynn said. "I mean, um, I guess."
"You have a crown," Gina said.
"It's not my crown," Rapunzel shouted, still laughing. "I grew up in two rooms... not a giant castle. I don't have any servants, or ladies-in-waiting..."
"... or crowns you didn't steal," Flynn added.
"... or a white horse, or velvet capes, or a scepter..."
"You do have that magnificent hair, though," Flynn pointed out. "I mean, just look at it. It looks fancy and expensive and royal. A normal person, even a lord or lady, couldn't manage locks half that long. Even if it ever came in silver, which seems reeealllly unlikely."
He leaned forward to get a better look, and at first Rapunzel did nothing, suddenly aware of his closeness. Whatever he said about her skin, Flynn's was also clear, healthy, and peachy. He had a little bit of hair on his chin (not a full beard like she had seen in pictures), a tiny feathery thing that she kind of wanted to touch. "

― Liz Braswell , What Once Was Mine